Ten years ago this week, Venezuela was convulsed by a spasm of violence and instability that still colors public life today. In an extraordinary 72-hour period, the nation witnessed the largest protest in its history, which ended in a massacre just steps away from the presidential palace. It saw the military chain of command crumble and key officers openly rebel against orders that would have set off an even larger massacre. It saw President Chávez hand himself over as a prisoner. He was then replaced by a reactionary cabal of business leaders and hard-right military officers, flown off to a remote Caribbean Island and then, shortly thereafter, brought back to power by a group of loyalist officers who never agreed with the decision to depose him in the first place.
Once all that dust had settled, there was little doubt who the hero of the hour was: General Raúl Baduel, who was instrumental in the collapse of the coup. As commander of the army’s elite 42nd Paratrooper Brigade in the nearby city of Maracay, Baduel led one of the few genuinely battle-ready bits of Venezuela’s creaking military establishment. A die-hard Chávez loyalist, he sprang into action when the coup plotters made their move. Rallying the entire 4th Division, of which his brigade was a part, he sent his troops to pick up the deposed president from the tropical island that the plotters had chosen as a jail.
The paratroopers’ show of force was enough to forestall any actual outbreak of violence. Within a few hours Chávez was on his way back to the presidential palace. The bullet casings from the massacre of two days before were still lying on the street; there hadn’t even been time to clean them up. (The photo above shows Chávez shortly after his restoration to power, with Baduel at far right.)
And so General Raúl Baduel is, without doubt, the man who saved the chavista revolution. Chávez, indeed, subsequently rewarded him for his good works by promoting him to Minister of Defense. So you would expect that he’d be celebrating the tenth anniversary of his exploits at a palace gala this week. But you would be wrong.
Instead, the general greeted the occasion with a forlorn video smuggled out of the jail cell he has called home for the last two years:
Convicted by a military court on corruption charges that are widely viewed as spurious, Baduel meekly pleads for his rights under the law. As punishment for making the video, prison authorities raided his cell, withdrew all personal comforts, and imposed a far harsher regime of prison isolation. How far Raúl Baduel has fallen.
In truth, he should have seen it coming. He should have realized how dangerous it is to be known as the man who saved the revolution.
President Chávez, he must have realized, can’t abide to play second fiddle, to be seen to owe his position to anyone. Soon after the coup attempt, the government began spinning a yarn about how the revolutionary masses had risen up throughout the country to demand the president’s return. It was a narrative that reduced Baduel to the role of courier, the man who merely arranged transportation back to the palace. As all but the most rabid chavistas realize, the reality was exactly the opposite: the crowds only came out in force once it was clear the coup attempt had unraveled.
Baduel’s real offense, however, was his misplaced sense of duty. The key moment came in December 2007, as the nation voted on a key referendum to end presidential term limits, vastly expand the power of the presidency, and officially commit the country to socialism. The reform, meant to pave the way to the realization of a chavista utopia, was rejected by the voters by the narrowest of margins. As results trickled in to the pliant electoral authorities, President Chávez threw the mother of all presidential tantrums, indicating his readiness to overturn the results and plough ahead with his reforms.
At that key moment, General Baduel — by then retired, after having climbed to the very top of the military chain of command — balked. He was in a key position to mobilize military opposition to Chávez’s power-grab. Having once defied the entire military to preserve the constitution and save Chávez’s presidency, he thought he was entitled now to defy Chávez to preserve the constitution and save the military’s prestige. Outfoxed, a furious Chávez had no choice but to relent, allowing the news of this humiliating defeat to be broadcast to the nation and acknowledging what he called the opposition’s "victory made of shit."
Baduel had won the night, but had clearly sealed his fate in the process. Within months he’d lost his job; within years, his freedom.
Sentenced to eight years, he’s now reduced to pleading with international human rights bodies to review his case. It won’t do any good: Upstaging the president to save the revolution was bad enough, but contradicting him to save the constitution was just going too far.
Shane Harris is a senior staff writer at Foreign Policy, covering intelligence and cyber security. He is the author of The Watchers: The Rise of America's Surveillance State, which chronicles the creation of a vast national security apparatus and the rise of surveillance in America. The Watchers won the New York Public Library’s Helen Bernstein Book Award for Excellence in Journalism, and the Economist named it one of the best books of 2010. Shane is the winner of the Gerald R. Ford Prize for Distinguished Reporting on National Defense. He has four times been named a finalist for the Livingston Awards for Young Journalists, which honor the best journalists in America under the age of 35. Prior to joining Foreign Policy, he was the senior writer for The Washingtonian and a staff correspondent at National Journal.| Exclusive |