What really ought to concern us about Hugo Chávez is not his strident anti-Americanism, his burgeoning friendship with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, or his flirtation with nuclear technology, but his dangerous incompetence.
When Hugo Met Mahmoud: You had me at “Death to America!”
Unlike the security-weary Venezuelans queuing at Caracas’s Simón Bolívar International Airport for a regular American Airlines connection to Miami, travelers booked on the weekly Iran Air Flight 745 to Tehran enjoy a refreshingly different experience. On Saturday afternoons, the Iran Air passengers are whisked past the X-ray machines and immigration control straight to their seats. Similar consideration is provided to those on the Friday inbound flight, the so-called “ghost plane”: no passport stamps, no baggage checks.
Among the inbound luggage there might be the odd flying carpet bought by the more outlandish visitor to Tehran’s Grand Bazaar. But Venezuela’s main international airport is buzzing with rumors that the “ghost plane” comes and goes laden with artifacts that would make a TSA official throw a fit: automatic weapons, electronic gadgets, and suspect lead crates.
The mystery that shrouds the Caracas-Tehran air link is symbolic of the sinister but also bizarre relationship that is being swiftly cemented between Hugo Chávez, Venezuela’s quixotic president, and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iran’s anti-American leader. Last month, during a fleeting visit by the Iranian president to Caracas, Chávez heaped praise on Ahmadinejad and described him as “one of the greatest anti-imperialist fighters.”
Why are Chávez and Ahmadinejad striking such a cozy relationship, and why, if at all, should it be of concern in Washington?
One reason for the alliance is oil. Iran and Venezuela are the second- and fifth-largest producers, respectively, in OPEC, so it’s not unreasonable to expect them to be allies. But unlike Saudi Arabia, which can produce far more oil and favors pumping more barrels at a more modest price, in recent years Tehran and Caracas have become the dominant “hawks” within the oil cartel, with both seeking ever-deeper output cuts to drive prices higher.
Yet, while surging oil prices have showered a foreign exchange bounty on both Iran and Venezuela, paradoxically it is these countries—rather than the oil-import-dependent economies of the United States and Europe—that are facing nasty economic consequences. Ahmadinejad and Chávez are, for example, both fighting losing battles against galloping inflation, while the staple goods consumed by the people they claim to care for become scarce as a result of Soviet-era price controls. No need to topple a government that’s doing a good job shooting itself in the foot.
If both have faith in the economics of smoke and mirrors, their governments also share foreign policies oozing with anti-Americanism. Yet there are subtle differences.
Ahmadinejad’s war of words with Washington stems in part from the cultural traits and geopolitics of the Middle East, and in part from the clash over Tehran’s serious nuclear program—which is drawing Iran into an ever greater potential conflict not only with the United States, but with Europe as well.
In comparison, Chávez’s verbal jousting with the United States is anti-Americanism “lite.” The seeds of anti-U.S. sentiment in Latin America were sown almost 200 years ago, when the Monroe Doctrine collided with the politics of South American independence hero Simón Bolívar. Chávez fondly portrays himself as Bolívar’s 21st century reincarnation.
But in Venezuela, appeals to anti-Americanism fall on largely deaf ears compared with elsewhere in the continent. Culturally, the average Brazilian, Argentine, or Colombian has a more vocal suspicion of Uncle Sam than does his cousin in Caracas. Quite simply, the average sun-loving Venezuelan dreams of shopping at a Miami mall, munches on hot dogs, and loves baseball—unlike his neighbors’ penchant for soccer. A report released by the Pew Research Center in June found that 56 percent of Venezuelans had a favorable view of the United States—far more than Brazilians or Argentines. Even Chávez was (and still is) a baseball fanatic before he began his conspiratorial innings in the military.
So, although Ahmadinejad may count on some support from Iran’s Revolutionary Guards, when Chávez urges his “subjects” to resist an “imminent” U.S. invasion on Venezuela’s beaches, he’s more likely to find them spreading sun-tan lotion than cocking a rifle.
But in the nuclear arena, something sinister may be afoot. Emulating his soul-brother Ahmadinejad, Chávez has voiced his regime’s desire to acquire nuclear technology, and Iranian officials have said they would oblige. And that may already be underway. In recent months, there have been persistent whispers in intelligence circles suggesting that Iranian scientists and engineers are prospecting for uranium ore in the granite bedrock under the southeastern jungles of Venezuela, a region rich with mineral deposits. It’s difficult to see why Chávez would want nuclear technology for peaceful, energy-producing ends: Venezuela has the largest hydrocarbon reserves in the Americas and it already makes good use of its ample hydroelectricity generation potential.
Still, in this regard what should really concern Washington, Venezuela’s neighbors, and the rest of us is the Chávez regime’s prize-winning record of managerial incompetence. Since Venezuela’s opposition-aligned executives abandoned the state oil company and left the keys in the ignition, Chávez’s cronies have transformed it into an industrial time bomb. Fatal explosions and “accidents” occur at refineries with frightening regularity. Transfer that administrative track record into the area of gas-centrifuge plant and nuclear reactor supervision and you have a potential Chernobyl redux on your hands.
To be sure, it may be many years before Chávez is able to morph into a tropical Doctor Strangelove and poise his finger above the red button—and his regime may well have collapsed long before then, snared in a thicket of economic distortions. But, if and when that day comes, it may be lead-lined coffins that are discreetly loaded onto the “ghost plane” that is Iran Air Flight 745 from Caracas to Tehran.
