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As Trump Alights in Israel, Palestinians are Descending into Darkness
As Trump Alights in Israel, Palestinians are Descending into Darkness
Venezuela: A Blueprint for Strife
Venezuela: A Blueprint for Strife
Palestinians walk on a road during a power cut in Beit Lahiya in the northern Gaza Strip, 12 January 2017. REUTERS/Mohammed Salem

As Trump Alights in Israel, Palestinians are Descending into Darkness

President Trump plans a 22-23 May visit to Israel and Palestine in pursuit of the “ultimate deal”. But behind the scenes, rising tensions between Palestinian factions may be drawing Gaza and Israel closer to a new war.

President Donald Trump makes a 26-hour visit to Israel on 22 May to discuss the “ultimate deal” — a peace agreement between Israelis and Palestinians — with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Jerusalem and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas in Bethlehem. With his eyes on the big prize, Trump risks neglecting a critical element of any agreement: the Palestinian territory of Gaza, where a new bout of war is potentially brewing.

Gaza’s 1.8 million Palestinians are administered by a third force, Hamas, labeled a terrorist organisation by the U.S. and others, and the isolation of the territory, imposed by Israel and Egypt, is pushing the population dangerously into dire straits. At the end of April, the inhabitants of the narrow coastal strip saw electricity supplies drop to only a few hours a day. The economic lifeline of government salaries has been sharply cut. Access to the internet is slow and irregular. Medicines are critically short.

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One reason for this is the policy of “closure” exercised by Gaza’s neighbours, Israel and Egypt, who are trying to make the other take responsibility for one of the planet’s most overpopulated, oppressed and traumatised places. This policy prevents the vast majority of the territory’s residents from leaving, and greatly increases their sense of entrapment and desperation.

Tensions are being aggravated by an intra-Palestinian feud over taxes, salaries and legitimacy between Hamas, rulers of Gaza since 2007, and President Abbas’s Palestinian Authority, administrators of parts of the West Bank. This month’s change of leadership in Hamas, and its attempt to put a softer face on its armed struggle with Israel by publishing an ambiguous new political document, is unlikely to change its isolation. The general Palestinian mood is also turning rebellious, with West Bankers and Gazans united in overwhelming support of a hunger strike of over 1,500 Palestinian detainees for better conditions in Israeli prisons.

It is unclear what President Trump can do to mitigate any of these inter-related conflicts. Both Netanyahu and Abbas have now visited Trump at the White House, and both are in discussions with the new U.S. administration about its still nascent plans to restart peace negotiations. Though Israelis and Palestinians are sceptical that anything can come of such negotiations, Abbas and Netanyahu feel obliged to show goodwill toward the new and highly unpredictable U.S. president.

The perception that Trump is capricious offers him some leverage that other U.S. presidents might not have had. He is feared by leaders of both sides.

The perception that Trump is capricious offers him some leverage that other U.S. presidents might not have had. He is feared by leaders of both sides. Palestinians worry that he could radically alter, to their detriment, U.S. positions on the core issues of a peace settlement. Trump has been extraordinarily vague about his vision of what he calls “the ultimate deal”, has given the impression that he is not particularly concerned about the details of a would-be accord, and has gone so far as to state that he could “live with” either one state or two.

Trump’s ambiguity concerns the Israelis too. They worry that if he approaches the Israeli-Palestinian conflict like a real-estate transaction, he may, in order to close the deal, apply pressure on them. After all, he has proclaimed political partiality to the Jewish state, but not demonstrated visceral affinity for it. Another concern, for both sides, is what Trump will do if and when he decides that one of them is the primary obstacle to his achievement of a deal that he has prioritised. Could he turn vindictive and isolate, even punish, one or both of the parties?

The ticking time bomb of Gaza

While Trump, Netanyahu and Abbas position themselves for the next round of discussions, a time bomb is ticking. A number of Israeli security analysts and former Israel Defence Forces generals are warning that Gaza’s misery is reaching intolerable levels, as was the case prior to the summer 2014 war that killed 2,139 Palestinians, 64 Israeli soldiers and six Israeli civilians. In fact, the situation in Gaza today is worse than it has been at any time since Israel conquered the territory in 1967, fifty years ago next month.

[The] situation in Gaza today is worse than it has been at any time since Israel conquered the territory in 1967.

In “normal” times, Gaza suffers electricity blackouts of roughly twelve hours per day. Its chronic power shortages have worsened considerably in recent months to 20 hours per day. In January, residents turned out in very large numbers to protest the blackouts and the horrible effects they had on hospitals, water, and sewage. To alleviate the crisis, Qatar and Turkey donated fuel to Gaza for a three-month period, which expired in April.

There are three main sources of electricity for Gaza: about one-tenth comes from Egypt, on three power lines that have been repeatedly shut down in recent years; about one third from the local Gaza power plant, currently working at half its capacity (in part due to fuel shortages); and the rest from Israel. Together these add up to 207-212mw, which is less than half of the power Gaza needs.

Gaza’s electricity supply is complicated by internal Palestinian feuding over who should pay for it and how, and the end result merely underlines how powerless the Palestinian sides are compared to Israel. Days before Abbas’s visit to Washington, the PA said it would stop paying for part of Gaza’s electricity. But the PA cannot actually carry out its threat to stop paying for electricity in Gaza without Israel’s permission.

That’s because goods entering Palestinian territory — including fuel for the Gaza power plant — are taxed by Israel, on behalf of the PA, for a 3 per cent collection fee, which is then transferred to the PA. But before the transfer is made, Israel deducts what the Palestinians owe for electricity in both Gaza and the West Bank. In May, to the PA’s chagrin, Israel carried out its usual deductions for electricity from PA tax revenue and continued to supply Gaza with the same amount as in previous months.

Israel does this not only because it is obliged to do so under existing agreements, but also because it has little incentive to see Gaza descend further into darkness. Israel recognises that the territory’s worsening humanitarian situation might drag it and Hamas toward a new war.

Little help from the neighbours

Keeping up basic services to Gaza’s population is further complicated by the way the territory’s two neighbours, Egypt and Israel, have engaged in a years-long struggle to foist responsibility for Gaza onto the other. Egypt has largely won. Almost all of the goods entering and exiting Gaza now go through Israel, as do most of the small number of Gaza’s residents whom Israel allows to leave (the majority of them are merchants, and the next largest category, which is much smaller, is medical patients). Egypt does not wish to revert to a situation in which it has relatively more responsibility for Gaza, and it is not interested in helping Hamas establish a successful, nearby model of Islamist rule by the Palestinian offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood.

Israel fears that improving conditions in Gaza could strengthen Hamas and undermine the authority of the [Palestinian Authority].

Israel’s Gaza policy is the outcome of several conflicting interests. First and foremost, it wants to keep Hamas weak so that it does not come to pose a greater military threat to Israel and, as importantly, does not grow in power in the West Bank at the expense of Fatah, which is the largest political faction in the PLO (the umbrella organisation for the Palestinian national movement) and the most influential force in the Palestinian government, known as the Palestinian Authority (PA). Israel fears that improving conditions in Gaza could strengthen Hamas and undermine the authority of the PA, by stabilising Hamas rule and making the PA appear less unattractive. Second, and in tension with the first, Israel wants to avoid a new war, which means ensuring that conditions do not become so dire that Hamas believes that violence is its only means of escaping from slow suffocation. Third, Israel wants to avoid reoccupying Gaza. Doing so is seen as too costly in blood and treasure, and there does not appear to be any viable exit strategy. None of the potential alternatives to Hamas appears strong enough to take and retain power in Gaza – not the PA or Fatah, and not Salafi-jihadist groups, which, even if they weren’t too weak, would be seen as too dangerous.

Palestinian feuds

The humanitarian crisis is not just aggravated by Israel and Egypt, but by the Palestinians’ own internal divisions. The latest move in the PA’s campaign to squeeze Gaza was a decision by the PA health ministry to stop supplying Gaza with medicines and baby formula. There is a severe shortage of medicine in Gaza, and over 90 per cent of cancer medicines are totally absent. The PA, which typically ships medicine to Gaza every two months, has not sent medicine in three months. The PA claims that whatever shortages exist in Gaza also exist in the West Bank, though there is no comparing the state of health in the two territories, and it says a new shipment will be sent in the coming days.

The [Palestinian Authority] has consistently tried to leverage its relationship with the U.S. to sideline Hamas.

The PA has consistently tried to leverage its relationship with the U.S. to sideline Hamas, partly by attempting to show itself to be a useful weapon against Hamas. Ahead of Abbas’s latest visit to Washington, this took a dangerous turn: the PA decided to drastically cut payments to its employees in Gaza. These were cuts of at least 30 per cent in each employee’s total compensation. Since Hamas’s takeover of Gaza in 2007, many of these employees have been paid to sit at home, as the PA hoped that it could topple the Gaza government by forcing civil servants, who are largely identified with Fatah, to refuse to work.

Ten years on, this strategy has failed. Hamas hired its own employees, as well as some who had worked for the PA, and many of the PA employees took second jobs. Others sat at home, where their idleness and in some cases drug addiction often had destructive effects on their families. But though these people were not productive, their government salaries were critical to the functioning of the Gaza economy. The PA constituted Gaza’s single largest funding source, with far more “employees” than those hired by the actual, Hamas-run government or by the UN.

When the largest employer in Gaza removes at least one-third of the compensation to its employees, the effects are disastrous, especially when the second-largest employer, the Hamas-led government, has been paying half-salaries for several years. Palestinians refer to the PA pay cuts as the “salaries massacre”. In Gaza, many protesters contend that Abbas’s primary motivation for the cut was simply to show Trump that he was doing what he could to weaken Hamas and bring Gaza to heel. The PA was also motivated by Hamas’s March 2017 decision to set up a formal, parallel administrative committee for overseeing Gaza. Doing so appeared to undermine the 2014 agreement between the PA and Hamas to form a “government of national consensus”, which has only been partially implemented.

The PA justified the cuts by stating that donor aid to the PA had dropped, which is true. But it is also a rather partial and -in this context-  misleading account of PA finances. Before President Sisi took power in Egypt in 2013 and shut nearly all the tunnels under the fences on the Gaza-Sinai border, goods that entered Gaza through the tunnels were taxed by the Hamas-run government. Now that the flow of goods entering Gaza has moved to routes through Israel, Hamas has lost its main source of revenue, while overall PA revenues have increased.

Hamas struggles to evolve

Hamas won general Palestinian elections in 2006, lost a struggle for control of the West Bank to the Western-backed Palestinians now running the PA, and then seized effective control of Gaza in 2007. It is now trying to present a new face to the world. It unveiled a long-expected, more moderate-looking new political document just before Khaled Mish‘al stepped down as leader of Hamas in early May. (Internal Hamas bylaws prevented him from running for another term.)

The specific timing of the press conference to announce the new document does seem to have been influenced by Abbas’s meeting with Trump. Prior to heading to Washington, Abbas had threatened to take new and unspecified steps against Gaza, and, just like Abbas and Netanyahu, Hamas has every reason to fear what the new U.S. administration’s policy toward it might be. Most worrisome is the possibility that Abbas could further squeeze Gaza, with the approval of the U.S. and its Arab allies. The day after Abbas’s meeting with Trump, U.S. Special Representative Jason Greenblatt attended a meeting of the Ad Hoc Liaison Committee, a group that coordinates development aid to the Palestinians, and placed sole responsibility for Gaza’s electricity crisis on Hamas. Israeli security officials, by contrast, put much of the blame for the humanitarian situation in Gaza on the PA.

Hamas had been trying for many years to downplay the significance of its charter and dissociate itself from it, but a full renunciation was apparently a bridge too far.

The political document does not contain Hamas’s 1988 founding charter’s anti-Semitic or conspiratorial elements, it denounces ethnic and sectarian extremism and bigotry, and it places greater emphasis on Hamas’s nationalist, rather than Islamist, character. During his remarks at the launch press conference, Mish‘al clearly tried to suggest that the political document, and not the charter, now represents Hamas’s vision. But Hamas has not said it is a new charter, and nor does it abrogate or supplant the founding charter. Hamas had been trying for many years to downplay the significance of its charter and dissociate itself from it, but a full renunciation was apparently a bridge too far.

Even so, the document contained no surprises. It is highly cautious, hinting at moderation while still adhering to Hamas’s hardline tenets. It clearly rejects the so-called Quartet principles, the three conditions on diplomatic and financial support to any PA government: recognising Israel; renouncing violence; and abiding by past agreements (the document explicitly rejects the Oslo agreements). At the same time, Hamas wanted the document to be interpreted as a sign of moderation and a potential opening for engagement with governments that have boycotted it.

In attempting to please all, the document risks pleasing none. It hints at compromises in such a tepid manner that, on one hand, hardliners were not too angered, and, on the other, Western and Arab governments were not too impressed. The document fell short of expectations that the movement had itself helped set: dissociating Hamas from the Muslim Brotherhood (which would have been a positive signal to Egypt); accepting a Palestinian state on the pre-1967 lines without recognising Israel; and endorsing so-called “popular” or more-or-less unarmed resistance as a legitimate tool.

The document’s ambiguous circumlocutions are open to many interpretations. Despite the lack of explicit dissociation from the Muslim Brotherhood, some see significance in the fact that the words Muslim Brotherhood do not appear in the document, or the vague affirmation that “Hamas stresses the necessity of maintaining the independence of Palestinian national decision-making. Outside forces should not be allowed to intervene”. The much-promised acceptance of a Palestinian state on the pre-1967 lines was not an acceptance but rather an assertion that “Hamas considers” the establishment of such a state, without recognising Israel, “to be a formula of national consensus.”

The document emphasises continued armed resistance to Israel, and offers less than expected to those hoping Hamas might embrace nonviolent tactics and accept a two-state settlement. The text only makes a weak allusion to non-military methods: “Managing resistance, in terms of escalation or de-escalation, or in terms of diversifying the means and methods, is an integral part of the process of managing the conflict and should not be at the expense of the principle of resistance”.

Senior Hamas leaders had publicly made far more explicit statements in support of compromise than the ones appearing in the document. More than five years ago, Mish‘al himself offered more clearly and strongly worded support for both popular resistance and a Palestinian state on the pre-1967 borders: “Now we have a common ground that we can work on … the popular resistance, which presents the power of people .... We have political differences [with Fatah and the PLO], but the common ground is the state on the ‘67 borders. Why don't we work in this common area?”

For years, political forces seeking engagement with Hamas and those seeking its continued boycott and isolation have screamed past one another without changing many minds. Those in favor of engagement remain a minority, and the new political document is unlikely to boost them. They will point to the document’s clauses on the pre-1967 borders, but those upholding the boycott of Hamas will point to the clauses on liberating all of Palestine, from the river to the sea. Those in favor of engagement will point to the allusion to “diversifying the means and methods of resistance”; their opponents will point to the document’s emphasis on armed resistance. The debate will continue, and the document will now be cited by both sides. It’s hard to see what will change as a result of it.

Trump’s trip

The majority of observers expect that when President Trump eventually encounters serious difficulties, as he inevitably will, he will give up and turn to another issue. For now, though, it is deeply troubling to both the Israeli and Palestinian leaderships that unpredictable outcomes are even possible.

What that means for the Trump administration is that he may have more coercive power than other U.S. presidents have had in getting the parties to agree to talks and accompanying confidence-building steps. In March, when Netanyahu threatened to dissolve the current government, the Israeli press was rife with speculation that one of his primary motivations in considering early elections was to buy time — from the moment an election is called until the next government is formed can take over half a year — in order to forestall a new Trump-led peace process. This might include demands on Israel that would be difficult for the present government to accept but also risky to reject, since Trump’s reaction to Israeli intransigence is wholly unknown. Elections could also potentially allow Netanyahu to form a governing coalition that would give him greater freedom to meet challenging U.S. requests.

When Trump was first elected and during the early weeks of his administration, the PLO leadership (it is the PLO, not the PA, that engages in negotiations with Israel) appeared quite nervous because, as was widely reported, it had difficulty establishing contact with senior members of the new administration. Those fears subsided considerably after Central Intelligence Agency Director Mike Pompeo’s visit to the West Bank in mid-February, the March visit to Israel and the West Bank by Jason Greenblatt, Trump’s Special Representative for International Negotiations, and, especially, the phone call in which Trump invited Abbas to the White House.  

The other important thing for the Palestinians is to show goodwill to the U.S., to assure this administration of the PA’s utility to the U.S., and to make sure that the PLO is not seen as the obstacle to Trump achieving a historic agreement. The Palestinian leadership is keenly aware that U.S. officials view the PA primarily through a security and counter-terrorism prism. The U.S. spends a large portion of its aid to the Palestinians on training, equipping and otherwise supporting its security forces in the West Bank, and the primary aim of this support is to thwart attacks against Israel and more generally minimise friction between Israelis and Palestinians. When talking to U.S. officials, PA leaders typically emphasise their close and ongoing coordination with Israeli security forces, as well as the fact that the Palestinian security forces are praised and valued by Israel. PA leaders also contrast the PA and PLO with Hamas and argue that support to the PA can strengthen self-identified Palestinian moderates and help the U.S. achieve its broader counter-terrorism aims in the region.

Trump seems determined to start a new peace process and, for now, the parties seem determined not to openly upset him.

For his part, Trump seems determined to start a new peace process and, for now, the parties seem determined not to openly upset him. On 9 May, Abbas said that he told Trump that the Palestinians “were ready to collaborate with him and meet the Israeli PM [Benjamin Netanyahu] under his auspices to build peace”. It took President Obama nearly two years to get Abbas and Netanyahu to launch a very short-lived set of direct negotiations. If Trump’s visit secures that alone, it will be a success for him.

Whether Abbas and Netanyahu are any more likely to reach a peace agreement once they do start negotiations is another matter, as is the question of whether a new war over Gaza may overtake them all.

Opposition activists and riot police clash during a protest against Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, in Caracas, on 3 May 2017. JUAN BARRETO / AFP

Venezuela: A Blueprint for Strife

Two developments are propelling Venezuela faster along a route that has already led to dozens of deaths in the last few weeks: the first is an undemocratic proposal for a new constitution; the second is increasingly isolated Venezuela’s withdrawal from the Organisation of American States.

CARACAS, Venezuela – Amid the tumult on the streets of Venezuela, which has cost dozens of lives in the past six weeks, two crucially important, and related, events threaten to spur even greater violence and eclipse all possibility of international engagement aimed at redressing the country’s plight.

One was the announcement on 23 April by Foreign Minister Delcy Rodríguez that the country would withdraw from the Organization of American States (OAS) in response to what the government of Nicolás Maduro sees as “interference” in Venezuela’s internal affairs. The other move, which immediately incensed protesters and brought widespread foreign repudiation, was a presidential decree of 1 May convening an assembly to rewrite the country’s constitution.

According to Maduro’s blueprint, half of the assembly’s members are to be elected by organisations, such as trade unions and peasant groups, which in all likelihood will be satellites of the ruling United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV). The other half would be elected at the municipal level, under a system (yet to be fully explained, and perhaps even decided) that seems designed to over-represent pro-government forces. Political parties will be excluded, although the precise design of the election system for the assembly is in the hands of the government-controlled National Electoral Council (CNE). It is worth noting that the combination between sector-based and municipal representatives is identical to that in the National Assembly of Cuba.

Taken together, these two decisions mark the crossing of a threshold in Venezuela, and the formal abandonment by the “revolutionary” regime in Caracas of representative democracy. They came in response to pressure, both external and domestic, on the Maduro government to hold elections, restore the separation of powers, free political prisoners, and open a “humanitarian channel” to ease the country’s critical shortages of food, medicines and other basic goods. Rather than accede to demands for genuine negotiations with the opposition Democratic Unity (MUD) alliance – which controls a legislature shorn of power by the Supreme Court (TSJ) – the government has made good on its threat to “deepen the revolution” by creating a so-called “communal state”. What is proposed is similar to the constitutional reform Maduro’s predecessor and mentor Hugo Chávez put to a referendum in 2007, which was rejected by the electorate – Chávez’s sole national electoral defeat in his 14 years in power. 

Shotguns firing plastic pellets are also often used at almost point-blank range, and demonstrators caught alone can expect to be severely beaten.

Meanwhile, in response to almost daily demonstrations by the MUD, security forces have clearly been given orders to intensify the repression. By 10 May, six weeks of violence had killed 39 people, according to the PROVEA human rights organisation. At least two demonstrators have been killed and many more injured by riot squads repeatedly firing tear-gas grenades directly into crowds. Police use them to disperse static crowds, often firing in front of and behind protesters, trapping them. Retreating protesters are pursued with volleys of tear gas, which is now frequently being fired into residential or commercial premises, and has even affected schoolchildren and hospital patients. Shotguns firing plastic pellets are also often used at almost point-blank range, and demonstrators caught alone can expect to be severely beaten. Over seven hundred injuries are reported, along with 2,000 arrests, according to legal aid group Foro Penal. Once again, civilian parapolice gangs, armed with pistols, have been deployed to intimidate protesters, some of whom have died of gunshot wounds, often to the head.

In several parts of the country, including the capital, nightfall has brought episodes of looting, which in one particularly violent night in Caracas led to the deaths of at least a dozen people. In Venezuela’s third city, Valencia, looting also took place in broad daylight, with around 100 warehouses, shops and supermarkets systematically ransacked as police and national guard troops looked on.

If greater violence is to be averted, the government will need to abandon its self-serving plan to rewrite the constitution and its use of excessive force against peaceful demonstrators. In turn, opposition forces, together with Venezuela’s regional neighbours, should devise a plan to encourage more pragmatic elements of the regime to negotiate a return to democracy, while offering a potential exit strategy for those in power who can have no future political role and fear imprisonment - or worse - if they are ousted.

A new “communal” constitution

The central demand of the opposition is that a free election be held to allow Venezuelans to determine the way out of the conflict. But the government, whose support in the polls hovers around 20-25 per cent, fears that submitting to a vote would be political suicide. The proposed constituent assembly is a way of evading democratic accountability. It would have supra-constitutional powers that would allow it to dissolve parliament, restructure the state and even govern the country indefinitely, if it so chose, without any need to hold fresh elections. OAS Secretary-General Luis Almagro called the move “a fresh coup d’état” aimed at “consolidating this authoritarian regime”.

A number of Latin American countries have rewritten their constitutions in recent years, with varying results. Colombia’s 1991 constitution, which sprang from a citizens’ movement seeking greater participation, is often cited as a success. More recently, in Bolivia and Ecuador, the process began in the wake of electoral victories for major new political forces – most significantly, an indigenous peoples’ movement led by Evo Morales - but was extremely contentious, with opposition forces steamrollered or excluded at crucial points. In both countries, a majority of voters approved the new constitutions at the polls.

Venezuela’s 1999 constituent assembly was 95 per cent composed of supporters of President Chávez, despite their having won only a little over half the vote. But after Chávez’s failed attempt to reform it in 2007, and the government’s increasing violation of its key provisions, the 1999 constitution came to be seen as a potentially unifying element between the opposition and moderate chavistas. Most constitutional scholars argue that only at times of broad national consensus can a successful constitution be drafted; the alternative is a document that enshrines the victory of one side over another. The present constitution furnishes a “road map” with broad support that would be perilous to abandon at this point of extreme polarisation.

But preservation of the 1999 constitution could well become a rallying cry for hitherto loyal government supporters who revere Chávez but repudiate his successor.

Maduro is gambling that a new, “communal” constitution will consolidate the revolution. But preservation of the 1999 constitution could well become a rallying cry for hitherto loyal government supporters who revere Chávez but repudiate his successor. Already the Attorney General (fiscal general) Luisa Ortega Díaz, who recently distanced herself from the regime by saying the “constitutional thread” had been broken following a Supreme Court ruling to strip parliament of its powers, has weighed in. In a 3 May interview with The Wall Street Journal, Ortega said the 1999 constitution could not be improved. Her words were echoed by a pro-government legislator. But aside from these and other cases, so far there is no firm indication of mass defection from the regime, nor has this dissent gone unpunished. Now that the public prosecution service (ministerio público), which Ortega heads, is no longer regarded by the regime as trustworthy, arrested demonstrators are increasingly being arraigned before military tribunals. Dozens have been indicted, and sent to a jail far from their place of residence.

Marching out of the OAS

Maduro’s explicit abandonment of democratic rule has, however, clarified matters abroad. It is increasingly difficult even for the country’s allies in the region – all of which, except Cuba, adhere to democratic norms – to defend its posture, and the group of nations pushing for a restoration of democracy seems bound to grow. At the same time, the Venezuelan government seems prepared to become ever more isolated in the region.

The decision by the OAS Permanent Council on 23 April to convene a consultative meeting of the region’s foreign ministers to discuss the Venezuelan conflict prompted the Maduro government to storm out of the organisation – although the process of disengagement, under OAS rules, takes two years. In a clear sign of the regime’s increasing estrangement, its bid to have the issue debated instead by foreign ministers of the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC – a body that includes Venezuela’s ally Cuba but excludes the United States and Canada) fell flat. Only four of 33 CELAC foreign ministers showed up to the meeting on 2 May and it concluded with no resolution. Seven countries boycotted the meeting, and on 4 May Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico and Paraguay issued a sternly-worded statement to “condemn the excessive use of force on the part of the Venezuelan authorities” against protesters in the streets.

The date and venue for the OAS foreign ministers’ meeting, agreed by the OAS Permanent Council on 26 April, has yet to be decided, and Venezuela has announced it will boycott it. The imminence of the organisation’s regular, scheduled General Assembly – in Mexico in late June – means the Venezuelan issue will almost certainly have to be dealt with there, although the gravity of the crisis merits greater urgency.

A way forward

Maduro’s decision to close off the limited democratic space that still exists – on the streets and, potentially, at the ballot box – guarantees that there will be more violent unrest. The opposition is convinced that to abandon street protests at this point would be to permit the consolidation of a dictatorship; it senses that it has nothing left to lose. It will not desist from its mobilisation until, at the very least, there is a binding commitment from the government to hold free and fair elections.

Perhaps the greatest potential danger is posed by a chaotic fragmentation of the regime. In the event that the armed forces were to split into roughly equal parts, Venezuela could face civil war. At the very least, there could be a period of violent anarchy on the streets, with armed, pro-government groups and criminal gangs spreading mayhem. The civilian population, already facing hunger and a breakdown of the country’s basic infrastructure, would suffer even greater hardship, and the task of reconstructing Venezuela would become far more taxing. In contrast, a decision by the bulk of the armed forces not to obey government orders to use violence against demonstrators - and to take action against armed civilians acting as parapolice groups - could galvanise both sides into seeking a peaceful and negotiated solution. Already there have been signs of internal dissent, with dozens of officers, including two generals, reportedly under investigation by military intelligence (DGCIM).

A decision by the bulk of the armed forces not to obey government orders to use violence against demonstrators [...] could galvanise both sides into seeking a peaceful and negotiated solution.

International pressure is vital, but needs to be carefully calibrated, with carrots as well as sticks, so as to offer a way out to those members of the regime who may be inclined to negotiate a return to democracy. In this spirit, the National Assembly should consider legislation offering partial, conditional, amnesty to both military and civilian regime members, thereby signalling their intent to seek reconciliation and to avoid witch-hunts in the event of a transition. While the Supreme Court almost certainly would veto this, the bill would send a message that could isolate those, relatively few, who are unlikely to benefit from amnesty due to their involvement in activities such as drug-trafficking or grave human rights abuses. Individual sanctions, already imposed by the United States against certain regime leaders, could be widened to target figures associated with egregious human rights violations, as a bipartisan proposal tabled in the U.S. Senate last week seeks to do.

Genuine negotiations – as opposed to the interminable “dialogues” the government prefers – are essential, and should ideally lead to elections and to an interim government of national unity in which some current officials (perhaps including Attorney General Ortega) could play a part. Any such outcome should include in the short term recognition of the current National Assembly, and respect for its powers. There is no longer any future for the mediation effort led by former Spanish Premier José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, although some of its elements might be incorporated into a stricter and more effective negotiating structure. This ought to be a primary focus of the OAS initiative, which will require setting up a “group of friends”, including at least one country sympathetic to the Maduro government.

The government itself recently invited the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Nicaragua, St Vincent and Uruguay to “accompany” its proposed dialogue. The role of the group of friends - which might usefully be expanded under the aegis of the Secretary-General of the United Nations - could include devising a viable asylum plan for those high-ranking regime members who have reason to fear future prosecution, and convincing them to accept it. Another priority for the group would be to adopt immediate measures to address the humanitarian and security crisis.

If not limited to the OAS, the initiative might eventually benefit from the assistance - formal or otherwise - of other governments that have influence with Caracas. This is particularly the case for Cuba, which is not a full OAS member and has a conflict-prone relationship with the organisation, and China. Both these countries would want to see their interests safeguarded in the event of a change of government.

Ultimately, of course, Venezuelans will decide how their country should be run. But with a president who seems determined to deny them the right to do so, they need outside help to produce a negotiated solution and avert a catastrophe.