Behind the Ballot: Corruption, Repression, and Hope in the 2024 Venezuelan Elections

This year, a handful of elections were scheduled. At least 27 countries, including Algeria, Senegal, Pakistan, and Venezuela, held their presidential elections. Because of the varying political climates, let’s visit the most recent Venezuelan elections, which illustrate human rights violations in the form of voter intimidation and political persecution. The development of the events raises questions about the validity of the results and the corruption of the powers of the state. Amid widespread despair, NGOs like Foro Penal, a Venezuelan group offering legal aid to victims of state repression, and international bodies such as Human Rights Watch and the Carter Center are investigating irregularities and violations.

Challenges to Maduro’s Presidency and Popularity

Facing crippling inflation, electricity blackouts, and water and food scarcity, the Venezuelan people had been waiting for a leadership change. Although still appealing to the love people had for former president Hugo Chavez, President Maduro Moros had been increasingly losing popular support.

At the beginning of his term, Chavez gained public trust through social programs addressing inequality, such as adult literacy, health care, and infrastructure. The programs were meant to address the gap between the rich and the poor, a hot issue among voters. His “revolution“ of the old system set up by the administration of Carlos Perez Jimenez was mildly disrupted by Human Rights Watch report exposing corruption. Nevertheless, his charisma and the benefits he provided kept his supporters loyal.

In 2013, Chavez appointed Maduro as his successor. Disguised as a blessing, Maduro had inherited institutions that were corrupted and allowed him to enrich himself and stay in power. However, years of inflation and poverty eroded Maduro’s connection to the Chavez revolution. As a result, many pro-Chavez supporters have lost confidence in Maduro and continue to mourn the late president, as AP reported.

While his popularity decreased, a new leader had been working to gain the people’s support. Maria Corina Machado, a former member of the national assembly, won a primary election in 2023. Appealing to free the country and grabbing onto the growing dislike for Maduro, Machado became the face of the Democratic Unitary Platform (DUP), an alliance of trade unions, political parties, and former officials.

However, in January 2024, the highest court in Venezuela banned opposition leader Machado from running for the presidency. The ban keeps Machado from participating in any elections for 15 years. The Supreme Court made the decision based on financial irregularities claimed to have happened while Machado served in the legislature. This obstacle is among many presented to political figures who pose a threat to Maduro’s regime. After failing to appoint a replacement for a while, a new candidate was put in the front of the opposition campaign. Edmundo Gonzalez, a former diplomat, became the new candidate of the DUP.

Months Leading to Election Day

Venezuelans outside the country went out to register, uncertain of what turn the elections would take; however, they encountered significant obstacles.

The New York Times reports that Venezuelans living abroad were affected by long waiting times, rejection, and confusing instructions across several countries, including Argentina, Chile, Colombia, and Spain. People arrived at consulates as early as 4 a.m., only to face rejection due to suspended registrations.

In addition to the unexplained delays, voters were met with unexpected registration requirements. Before, only a Venezuelan identification, expired or not, was valid for registration. However, as part of the new requirements being enforced, a Venezuelan passport and proof of residency or legal permanence in the host country were needed. This created obstacles, as many Venezuelans in countries like Colombia or the U.S. lack permanent residency despite having other legal documents, such as Temporary Protected Status (TPS).

National filling out an applications with his passport
Image 1: National filling out a form with his passport at hand. Source: Yahoo Images

What’s more, the government only allowed a 29-day registration period, which differs greatly from the year-round period allowed in the past. However, in countries where diplomatic relations are broken, and embassies and consulates are closed (like the U.S.) Venezuelans can’t register to vote.

As a result of these events, millions of Venezuelans couldn’t vote. Between 3.5 million and 5.5 million Venezuelans who live abroad were eligible to vote, but only about 69,000 were registered.

Election Day – July 28th, 2024

Venezuelans inside the country went to cast their votes at their designated stations. Throughout the morning, locals and the Carter Center mission—sent on June 29th—observed several violations.

Violence and Voter Intimidation

According to electoral rules, a witness is allowed to observe the tally count. People loyal to the ruling party intimidated witnesses and forced them to stay at home or leave their posts halfway through the election.

New York Times (NYT) reported that, in the capital, Caracas, a journalist observed men blocking access to one of the voting centers. Adding to the tension, voters were not allowed entry until over an hour after the poll was supposed to open. Similarly, in the city of Cumaná, about 50 armed police and National Guard officers stood outside with their helmets and armor in what seemed to be a show of power. Over in the city of Maturín, a woman was shot when men on motorcycles drove by a line of voters.

Changing Voting Locations

The NYT also disclosed that constituents’ voting locations were changed without a previous announcement. A worker of the Venezuelan Electoral Observatory, Carlos Medina, stated that the voting stations for 17,000 Venezuelans changed at the last minute. This is the case for Sonia Gomez, a voter who went to vote after verifying her polling site on the electoral council website. However, upon arrival, the workers told her she was registered elsewhere.

National casting their paper vote. Source: Yahoo Images
Image 2: National casting their paper vote. Source: Yahoo Images

Aftermath

Refusal to Disclose Paper Tallies

In Venezuela, votes are counted digitally by the Consejo Nacional Electoral (National Electoral Council) or CNE and verified using paper tallies collected at each voting station. Some officials in certain locations refused to disclose their paper tallies.

With the digital count, Maduro’s administration celebrated their victory, claiming 51% of votes. On the other hand, the opposition released data showing that Edmundo Gonzalez had received 67% of the vote. According to Machado, the opposition’s numbers came from voting machine tallies that were scanned and calculated.

In response to the allegations made by the opposition on corrupt and ridged elections, Maduro requested the Supreme Court give its expert opinion on the results. It is important to mention that the Supreme Court, closely tied to Maduro’s administration, had previously upheld Machado’s ban. Although the court backed him up, Maduro promised to release the tallies on the CNE website. However, the website has remained inaccessible since the events of July 28th.

Politically Driven Detentions

After the CNE announced Maduro’s victory, Venezuelan protested in the streets. However, they were met with brutal repression by state authorities. Videos circulating on social media showed police and military brutality directed at protesters. Human Rights Watch analyzed these videos, corroborating reports of detentions and deaths. While about 2,400 people were detained during protests, Foro Penal—a Venezuelan NGO that provides legal support for victims of arbitrary detention—claims that the police arrested electoral witnesses at their homes. These events have fueled arguments for election fraud. Most of the detainees are being charged with terrorism and incitement of hatred. Other irregularities include a lack of legal assistance and transfer to maximum security prisons.

Adding to the political persecution, a court issued an arrest warrant against Edmundo Gonzalez for conspiracy and usurping power. This prompted him to flee to Spain. Similarly, other figures, like diplomats, have been targeted, too, as Maduro ordered diplomats who opposed his victory to leave the country.

Protests in Venezuela on May 1st, 2019. Source: Wikimedia Commons archive; originally published by Voice of America.
Image 3: Protests in Venezuela on May 1st, 2019. Source: Wikimedia Commons archive; originally published by Voice of America.

Future Implications

After the return of the Carter Center’s technical election observation mission, the center stated that the elections did not meet the integrity standards. The Organization of American States and several countries, including Argentina and Costa Rica, recognized Edmundo Gonzalez as the president-elect and called for transparency. Nevertheless, as Gonzalez has now fled to Spain, it is unclear what the next steps the international community will take to address the democratic crisis.

Since the elections, Venezuelans have felt both hope and fear. Despite a great number of protests and social media posts, fear of government retaliation has reached a higher level than ever. Some believe it is impossible for Maduro to resign, but only time will tell if democracy can still be restored.

Prisoners of Conscience

Recently, upon landing at Sheremetyevo Airport in Moscow, avowed critic of Vladimir Putin and the Kremlin, Alexei Navalny, was arrested for allegedly violating the terms of a suspended sentence related to a 2014 embezzlement charge. The European Court of Human Rights later ruled that that trial had been politically motivated and resulted in an unfair conviction. The arrest came as no surprise; Navalny had made clear that he expected to be arrested when he returned home to Russia. Still, the Russian government’s blatant repression of one of their loudest critics inspired outrage and disappointment from around the world.

Photo of Alexei Navalny
Navalny in 2014. Evgeny Feldman / Novaya Gazeta. Wikimedia commons.

Navalny had been taken to hospital in Germany in after he became very ill aboard a flight from Tomsk to Moscow on August 20th and nearly died. He was in a coma for over two weeks before making a remarkable recovery. The German government in September determined with “unequivocal proof” from toxicology tests that Navalny had been poisoned with the Soviet-era nerve agent Novichok. In December, investigations by The Insider and Bellingcat with CNN and Der Spiegel implicated Russia’s Federal Security Service in the attempt on Navalny’s life. Russian president Vladimir Putin, who has been a target for criticism by Navalny and his Anti-Corruption Foundation for years, called media reports that he had ordered Navalny’s poisoning a U.S. backed plot to discredit him. Putin suggested that Navalny was not important enough to be poisoned, adding “[i]f someone had wanted to poison him, they would have finished him off.”

Amnesty International last week added Navalny to its list of prisoners of conscience as a result of his arrest. Commenting on his detention, Natalia Zviagina, Amnesty International’s Moscow Office director, said, “Aleksei Navalny’s arrest is further evidence that Russian authorities are seeking to silence him. His detention only highlights the need to investigate his allegations that he was poisoned by state agents acting on orders from the highest levels.”

Protests in response to Navalny’s arrest and the widespread corruption amongst Russian political leaders erupted January 22nd. As of when this was written, over three-thousand our-hundred protestors had been arrested, including Navalny’s wife, lawyers, and more than twenty-five known associates. Most are being held without charge. In Moscow, more than fifteen-thousand protestors gathered and endured temperatures as low as negative fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit.

Protestors in St. Petersburg, Russia
Protestors in St. Petersburg, Russia. Associated Press / AP Photo / Dmitri Lovetsky. Fair use.

Prisoners of conscience are those who are imprisoned because of their race, sexual orientation, religion, or political views, as well as those under persecution for the nonviolent expression of conscientiously held beliefs. The term was coined in 1961 in an article The Forgotten Prisoners by Peter Benenson, a lawyer and activist who founded Amnesty International. Today, Amnesty International is actively campaigning for the release of around one-hundred fifty documented prisoners of conscience, although the number of people who meet the definition is certainly much higher than that. Amnesty International figures that there are “likely thousands more”. Currently, Russia, Saudia Arabia, Iran, and Belarus have the highest number of known, documented prisoners of conscience, although information about political prisoners is sometimes heavily restricted, particularly in China and North Korea. It is likely that there are dozens, if not hundreds more prisoners of conscience in these countries alone.

Last year, Amnesty prisoner of conscience Rubén González was released after being held since 2018 on charges that he had “insulted” the armed forces in Venezuela. González had been acquitted in 2014 after a five year trial for organizing a strike. While he was imprisoned, he was the only civilian prisoner in the military wing of the La Pica prison in Monagas. UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Michelle Bachelet, criticized González’ conviction and the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention characterized his imprisonment as arbitrary. Amnesty International’s campaign for González’ release is representative of their work across the globe, showing that international condemnation is an effective tool against the incarceration of prisoners of conscience.

In Iran, Nasrin Sotoudeh is a human rights lawyer who has twice been arrested for her campaigns both for opposition candidates and for women’s rights. In 2010, Sotoudeh was charged with spreading propaganda and conspiring to harm state security. The Washington Post characterized the arrest as emblematic of “an intensifying crackdown on lawyers who defend influential opposition politicians, activists, and journalists.” During her first imprisonment, Sotoudeh staged three hunger strikes, with two of them lasting four weeks and seven weeks respectively. In 2018, Nasrin was arrested again, and charged with espionage, dissemination of propaganda, and disparaging the Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei. For this, she was sentenced to five years.

Accurate information about prisoners of conscience can be hard to come by, because the states that are more commonly imprisoning people for ‘thought crimes’ are also the states more likely to be highly suppressive of reports about their human rights abuses. For instance, in Saudi Arabia, estimates of the number of prisoners of conscience range from absolutely none, reported by the Ministry of Interior, to thirty-thousand reported by the Islamic Human Rights Commission and the BBC. In addition to their arbitrary detention of political activists, Saudi Arabia has also been heavily criticized by human rights bodies for their prolific use of capital punishment, including against people who were children when they were accused of crimes. In 2016, Ali Sa’eed al-Ribh was executed, despite the government admitting during trial that he was under the age of eighteen at the time of his alleged crimes. Because Saudi Arabia is party to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, they are legally required to ensure that no one under the age of eighteen at the time of a crime is sentenced to death or to life in prison without the possibility of release. Currently, several young Saudis are awaiting execution, including Ali al-Nimr, who was seventeen, Abdullah al-Zaher, who was sixteen, and Dawood al-Marhoon, who was seventeen when they were arrested. In addition, in 2017, Abdulkareem al-Hawaj’s death sentence was upheld on appeal for crimes committed when he was sixteen. All of their crimes relate to anti-government protests.

Photo of Loujain al-Hathloul
Loujain al-Hathloul. Creative Commons.

In 2018 and 2019, Saudi Arabia came down heavily on feminist activists, including Loujain al-Hathloul, who has been imprisoned since May 2018. al-Hathloul is known for her campaigns against the driving ban, and has been detained many times previously for offenses such as driving a car and appearing on camera with her face and hair uncovered. For the first several months of her detention, she was not allowed to contact her family or lawyer. al-Hathloul was subjected to beatings, waterboarding, electric shocks, and sexual abuse. During her first trial in March of 2019, she was charged with “promoting women’s rights, calling for the end of the male guardianship system, and contacting international organizations and foreign media.” Saudi Arabia has, over the last decade or so, made some purely performative and milquetoast changes to their repressive policies. In 2017, King Salman decreed that women be allowed access to some government services without the consent of a male guardian. The case of al-Hathloul and others show without a doubt that nothing substantive has changed. Saudi Arabia continues to be one of the most repressive powers in the world — for women, for activists, for critics of the regime. All of this from a country that we, in the United States, continue to support economically and diplomatically. And, for the last four years, have only become closer with.

The plight of prisoners of conscience around the world should be a priority for any freedom loving people and all freedom loving states. Amnesty International continues to do important work to bring awareness to and win freedom for political and ideological prisoners. Hopefully, governments that believe in liberty will start to hold each other accountable and unite against states who do not. Until the last prisoner of conscience is freed.

Further reading:

Who Are Prisoners of Conscience?

List of Designated Prisoners of Conscience

 

The Experiences of Journalists in an Era of Crisis (Part II)

by Andy Carr

newspapers. Source: Renzo Borgatti, Creative Commons

From a human rights perspective, one key factor behind recent trends in American media might best be framed in terms of labor rights. Beneath the turmoil and headlines, a collective organizing and unionization effort at leading magazines and papers has emerged in recent years, including at Vox, The New Yorker, the Los Angeles Times, and others. Especially in media, focus has turned to the rising tide of labor unions – organizations which are formed by workers in the same sector (e.g., among journalists and related professions) to bargain collectively. Collective bargaining allows unionized workers to negotiate with a stronger hand; the more workers are included, the more their non-participation or, in extremis, walkouts, and strikes will affect their employer(s). Bargaining leads to a union contract which binds all employees and their employer (if approved by a pre-set threshold required) to baseline pay rates and other working conditions. In modern contexts, union contract conditions include working hours, overtime policies, paid leave and holidays, sick pay and health insurance, promotion qualifications and timelines, as well as equity and inclusion-oriented provisions, such as minority recruitment programs and diverse hiring initiatives. 

Journalist organizing movements follow in the footsteps of Depression-era unionizing efforts significantly set off by a call to action in the New York World-Telegram written by Heywood Broun, a famed columnist of the 1930s. The American Newspaper Guild subsequently exploded, and just “10 months after Broun’s first column, the Guild had 7,000 members, with 125 delegates from 70 papers” onboard. At the same time, as Steven Greenhouse explained in the Columbia Journalism Review last year, “many publishers [of the time] aggressively resisted unionization.” Famously, the Associated Press “fired a reporter, Morris Watson, for his pro-union activity,” leading to a lawsuit which reached the Supreme Court, Associated Press v. NLRB (1937). In that case, the Supreme Court “rejected the publishers’ arguments that their freedom of the press was being violated by federal laws” protecting unionization and collective bargaining, affirming the reach of the National Labor Relations Act of 1935 (NLRA). 

The NLRA remains a significant part of America’s federal law on employment and labor rights, and since its inception it has sought two broad aims: first, “to restore the equality of bargaining power” among workers and employers and, second, to “resolve the problem of depressed wages,” a ubiquitous concern in 1930s America (see Southern California Edison Co. v. Public Utilities Commission, 140 Cal. App. 4th 1085, 1100 (2006)). More than 80 years after its founding, however, the underlying goals of the NLRA remain widely unfulfilled, with nationwide union membership dropping year-over-year since at least 1983, and America’s journalists, in particular, have faced daunting challenges. To put it bluntly, journalists’ ongoing efforts to organize have met an organized, systemic response. 

Last May, Jones Day, one of the world’s largest law firms, held “a conference in its Manhattan office focused on labor and employment law in the news media industry,” an “invitation-only affair, bringing together Jones Day attorneys and media executives, in-house lawyers, and senior human resources personnel—in other words, anyone who might find themselves on the other side of a bargaining table from journalists trying to unionize.” Among the attendees were individuals from “The New York Times, The Washington Post, Slate, Univision, and Atlantic Media, among others,” and one of the “moderators leading the conference was Patricia Dunn, a longtime [Jones Day partner based in Washington, D.C.], and a former in-house counsel for the Post.” As CJR again summarized, Jones Day, 

“with Dunn often at the helm, has in recent years become a go-to for media executives facing union drives. At a time when uncertain market forces have driven more and more newsrooms to organize, Jones Day has become notorious for aggressive anti-union tactics that journalists and union leaders say have helped downgrade media union contracts and carve employee benefits to the bone. Jones Day’s portfolio of media outlets includes, among many others, Slate, whose union members voted [in December 2018] to authorize a strike amid pushback from management on their demands.”

These outlets hardly cover the range of past and ongoing union-busting efforts: New York magazine, Vox, the Boston Globe all have been accused of assertive anti-union tactics in the past few years. (Among these cases, however, Vox’s unionizing efforts recently succeeded in the dramatic form: on Friday, June 7, Vox Media staffers secured an industry-defining union contract after a 29-hour marathon negotiation. The contract set minimum salaries at $56,000, included generous leave policies for parents regardless of gender and included initiatives designed to improve diversity in management, among other provisions.) 

a room of journalists with laptops and cameras
Journalists. Source: UNClimateChange, Creative Commons

Even where writers and editors have had organizing success, their gains have proved temporary. As The New Yorker reported in November 2017, just one “week before [their] sites were shuttered, the staffs of DNAinfo and Gothamist had unionized with the Writers Guild of America, East,” one of two leading industry unions in America along with NewsGuild. DNAinfo and Gothamist comprised a network of locally oriented outlets in major cities, owned by billionaire Joe Ricketts, the founder of trillion-dollar “brokerage giant” TD Ameritrade and “a major right-wing donor who … has given millions of dollars to anti-labor politicians” across the United States. Former employees, speaking to The New Yorker, reported “that, in both coded and explicit ways, management had warned [staff] repeatedly in the months before they unionized that doing so would mean that the sites would cease to exist” – a seemingly clear instance of “threatening [unionizing] employees with closure,” in violation of federal law. 

Subverting workers’ collective organizing or their free association more broadly both constitute problematic strategies under international law, as well. The International Labor Organization (ILO), for instance, has spoken unequivocally on the fundamental right of workers to coordinate collective action, including rights to “freedom of association” and “the right to collective bargaining,” per the following excerpts:

ILO Declaration on Fundamental Principles and Rights at Work (June 1998), Perambulatory Dedication:

“Whereas, in seeking to maintain the link between social progress and economic growth, the guarantee of fundamental principles and rights at work is of particular significance in that it enables the persons concerned, to claim freely and on the basis of equality of opportunity, their fair share of the wealth which they have helped to generate, and to achieve fully their human potential…”

ILO Fundamental Principles, operative clause (2) (emphasis added):

“Declares that all Members, even if they have not ratified the Conventions in question, have an obligation arising from the very fact of membership in the Organization to respect, to promote and to realize, in good faith and in accordance with the Constitution, the principles concerning the fundamental rights which are the subject of those Conventions, namely: 
(a) freedom of association and the effective recognition of the right to collective bargaining
(b) the elimination of all forms of forced or compulsory labour; 
(c) the effective abolition of child labour; and
(d) the elimination of discrimination in respect of employment and occupation…”

The UN Human Rights Council in 2008 also weighed in on corporations’ responsibilities vis-à-vis human rights, to include fundamental principles of labor rights. Although currently non-binding, the Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights framework describes “business enterprises as specialized organs of society performing specialized functions,” but which also are “required to comply with all applicable laws and to respect human rights” (emphasis added). The Guiding Principles emerged in response to concerns about the nexus of human rights and transnational businesses specifically, yet are framed in generalized terms. Thus, the ongoing anti-organizing efforts of managers and owners in American media may constitute violations of not just domestic labor laws, but also an emerging corpus of international legal standards that might become binding rules in coming years. 

The foregoing issues merely scratch the surface. Strong-arm labor tactics often combine with the toxicity of online media culture generally and the lawsuit-begging misconduct of particular outlets. For example, a 2018 New York article on the culture at Vice Media cites a “senior manager [who] once joked that the company’s hiring strategy had a ’22 Rule’: ‘Hire 22-year-olds, pay them $22,000, and work them 22 hours a day.’” Vice, then, might provide a serviceable avatar for American media problems – a culture of toxicity, outright abuse, and constant uncertainty about reporters’ job security combined with increasingly “widely lauded” output, such as Vice’s work with HBO and a documentary which “offered one of the first looks inside the Islamic State,” from 2014. Vice, notably, has been embroiled in back-and-forth union negotiations since January 2018, prompting over “75 current and former writers for HBO” to sign a petition requesting Vice Media “sign a strong union contract.” 

With the enduring stalemate over unionizing efforts at BuzzFeed News and another round of layoffs in recent weeks—including the total elimination of Ebony’s online team, allegedly without pay for work already done, earlier in June—a complex push and pull continues. Media organizing successes and setbacks like that above highlight the urgency of needed protections.