There is a longstanding joke in many Latin American nations: “Why has there never been a coup d’état in the United States? Because there is no US Embassy in Washington to support it.”
That joke has now become an ironic statement.
The world watched in shock on Jan. 6, as a mob of armed right-wing thugs stormed the US Capitol. Mexican cartoonist “El Fisgón” illustrated the idea of US imperialism attacking the US itself. He drew Trump standing before the Capitol, with the caption, “They thought I would start a war in Iran or Venezuela … But no, I think big.”
Thankfully, the putsch in Washington, D.C. was unsuccessful. The death count was low, many of the terrorists are being prosecuted, and the entire event will go down in history as a bizarre photo op for a shirtless fanatic wearing buffalo horns.
As calm returned to the US Capitol, meanwhile, analysts across Latin America used the occasion to reflect on the historical coups inflicted upon the region. The scene was disturbingly familiar, reminiscent of so many other violent coups of the past hundred years. There is one key difference, though—the coups in Latin America were often sponsored by the US government, imposing its interests on countries that had elected a progressive government.
Two days after the attack, Chilean intellectual and political analyst Marcos Roitman Rosenmann considered the long history of Washington-sponsored destabilization. (“Estados Unidos, la democracia que nunca fue,” La Jornada, Jan. 8, 2021, p. 13.) He explained how US presidents from both parties have routinely violated democratic principles.
“Those senators and representatives who had gathered in a plenary session,” he wrote, in reference to the Congressional session that the mob interrupted, “are, with a few exceptions, the same congresspersons who, regardless of their political party, have endorsed the annexing of territories, wars, invasions, coups d’état, embargos against countries, consolidated tyrannical regimes, and financed autocratic governments, in contradiction of their ‘respect and love’ of democratic values.”
Roitman Rosenmann’s own homeland suffered one of the worst terrorist attacks of the 20th century. On Sept. 11, 1973, the Chilean military stormed the presidential palace and murdered socialist President Salvador Allende, beginning a 17 year-long nightmare of dictatorship. It happened in Guatemala in 1954, when President Jacobo Árbenz was overthrown for daring to tax the United Fruit Company. In more recent years, it has happened in Honduras and Bolivia.
It’s a predictable pattern. When a Latin American nation elects a progressive leader, Yankee dollars flood into the coffers of subversive opposition groups. Military and paramilitary forces are trained in sabotage and torture. Economic elites use their privilege to destabilize the government. Once critical mass is reached, armed men storm the Capitol. And, unlike the Trumpist minions of Jan. 6, they stay there.
A recent dystopian Mexican film portrays the savagery of a military dictatorship. Director Michel Franco’s “Nuevo Orden” (“New Order”) imagines a near future where Mexico’s military takes control of the country. The subsequent horrors—summary executions in the streets, rape and torture of prisoners, poor neighborhoods transformed into walled-off ghettos—are appalling.
When I watched it in the theater in Mexico City last October, it turned my stomach. It wasn’t just the gore and violence; I’ve seen my share of slasher films. No, it was the fact that this was not imaginary violence. It was the true, living nightmare that far too many nations have lived through in recent history. Most recently, Myanmar’s military has seized power once again, after a few short years of civilian rule.
As Latin American leaders reflected on the violence in Washington, many of their messages were supportive and notably restrained. This was even the case with Venezuela, which experienced a coup attempt as recently as 2002, supported by the administration of George W. Bush.
Venezuela’s Foreign Minister Jorge Arreaza expressed his country’s concern about the violence, even while expressing hope that “the people of the United States will be able pave a new road toward stability and social justice.”
Other nations in the region condemned the violence as well. Alberto Fernández, the center-left President of Argentina, condemned “the severe acts of violence and the violation of the Congress which took place in Washington. We trust that there will be a peaceful transition which will respect the will of the people, and we express our most firm support for the President Elect, Joe Biden.”
Argentina itself suffered six different military coups throughout the 20th century. The most recent, in 1976, ushered in a dictatorship that remained in power for six years, openly supported by Henry Kissinger.
The Washington attack was also condemned by the presidents of Colombia, Chile, Ecuador, and Uruguay. The former President of Brazil, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, described the attack as a “warning sign” of what could happen in his own country as well. Perhaps the most significant comments came from former Bolivian President Evo Morales, considering the Washington-sponsored coup against him just over a year ago.
Morales poignantly compared the Washington violence to the coup that ousted him from power in November 2019. “The racist, violent far right in the United States,” he tweeted on Jan. 6, “behaved in the same way as their political operators in Bolivia. This is why they attacked the Congress of that country after losing the election, making unfounded claims of fraud.”
As the country’s first president from the majority indigenous population, Morales set out to fight inequality. During his 13 years in power, he cut Bolivia’s poverty rate in half, all while maintaining consistent 5% economic growth. This was an unforgivable sin for Bolivia’s elites and their international partners.
When the right wing opposition challenged his victory in the 2019 election, Morales agreed to a second round of voting. The US-dominated OAS refused, despite international observers who found no evidence of fraud. As tensions rose in Bolivia, the armed forces and the national police demanded his resignation. Morales was forced to flee the country, and conservative senator Jeanine Áñez was named interim president of Bolivia, in a legislative session without quorum. Áñez was famous for making overtly racist statements against President Morales and his culture.
In a later tweet, Morales called on people everywhere to defend democracy from the threat of “racist and fascist groups that use force and violence to push forward coups d’etat, ignoring the will of the people.”
After fleeing Bolivia, Morales was offered political asylum in Mexico by the center-left administration of President Andrés Manuel López Obrador. This was to the great chagrin of Mexico’s own right wing elites, some of whom have suggested that similar violence be used against Mexico’s own democratic government. Their disturbing comments echo those of the far right in the US, where violent overthrow is still considered a legitimate, viable option.
This is no time for complacency. While the dust settles over the US Capitol and Washington returns to business as usual, let us not forget those nations for whom the dust never settled, for whom dictatorship is more than a bad dream, for whom the flames of insurrection continue to burn.
David J. Schmidt is an author, podcaster, multilingual translator, and homebrewer who splits his time between Mexico City and San Diego, California. He is a proponent of fair and alternative forms of trade and is co-host of the podcast To Russia with Love. See holyghoststories.com and Twitter @SchmidtTales.
From The Progressive Populist, March 1, 2021
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