by John Lynch
It was in this mood that he wrote his dramatic analysis of the racial origins and the moral history of Americans, and expressed his preference for ‘an able despotism’. Given the social and racial formation of Americans, he asked, ‘Can we place laws above heroes and principles above men?’103 Bolívar here recognized the force of personalism and the power of the strongman, and gave it a structural explanation. It was in this context too that he wrote to Páez, admitting the danger of demoralizing the army and destabilizing the regions: ‘Each province has taken power and authority to itself; each one wishes to be the centre of the nation. We shall not speak of the democrats and fanatics. And we shall say nothing of the coloureds, for to enter the bottomless abyss of these problems is to bury reason as in the house of death. … A great volcano lies at our feet and its stirrings are not poetic or imaginary but very real.’ And he asked, ‘Who shall reconcile minds? Who shall restrain the oppressed classes? Slavery will break its yoke, each shade of colour will seek mastery, and the rest will fight on to victory or death. Latent hatreds between the different classes will break out again, each opinion will want to be sovereign.’ What then was the solution? ‘The Congress of Panama, an organization that should have been admirable if only it had been effective, is no different from that mad Greek who from a rock sought to direct sailing vessels. Its power will be a shadow and its decrees mere advice, no more.’ The answer lay in his Bolivian Constitution, which could be adapted to individual states within a confederation. Meanwhile, the government had to maintain law and order ‘by means of the press, the pulpit, and the bayonet’.104 Bolívar conceded nothing to Bogotá. While Santander spoke the language of constitutional outrage and denounced the perfidy of Páez, Bolívar mocked him and ridiculed the intransigents in Bogotá. ‘Our sacred pact was pure and intact, preserved in spotless virginity; now it has been violated, broken, and stained, and of no use to anyone. Congress arranged the divorce and Páez concluded it. We need a new contract, and another hymn to celebrate a new marriage, and then we can forget the infidelities.’105 Behind the irony he was selling the Bolivian Constitution.
The conflict between centralism and federalism also contained a racial problem, or so Bolívar believed. He was aware that there were strong objections to the choice of Bogotá as capital, not least the fact of its remoteness. But he argued that there was no alternative, ‘for though Caracas appeared to be the more natural spot, from being more populous and influential, yet the province was chiefly composed of people of colour who were jealous of and opposed to the white inhabitants, and it was desirable consequently for the general tranquillity to diminish rather than augment the influence of Caracas’.106 From the same facts the Venezuelan ruling class drew precisely the opposite conclusion. They wanted proximate power, even home rule, for Venezuela, ‘a very energetic and concentrated system in consequence of its containing a great diversity of colour’.107 Racial tension and pardo ambition required close supervision and control, and the unspoken conclusion was that the elite could not but support Páez because he was virtually the only leader who could control the popular classes.
Bolívar moved into Venezuela in late 1826 to confront the rebellion of Páez. He warned the caudillo, as a master warns his pupil, of his previous encounters with personalism: ‘General Castillo opposed me and lost; General Piar opposed me and lost; General Mariño opposed me and lost; General Torre Tagle opposed me and lost. It would seem that Providence condemns my personal enemies, whether American or Spanish, to perdition. But see how far Generals Sucre, Santander, and Santa Cruz have gone.’108 Military preparations were made for war against the rebels, Briceño Méndez occupied Puerto Cabello, and the Liberator’s language became tougher. He also made it crystal clear to Páez that he went as president and not as a mere citizen of Venezuela, pointing out that his was the only legitimate sovereignty in Venezuela, whereas Páez’s command ‘came from the municipalities and was born in violence; none of this is glorious, my dear general’. Although he mobilized, he did not want violence. From Coro he warned, ‘I have come from Peru to save you from the crime of civil war.’109 Conciliation was also favoured by the majority opinion in both countries. There was little alternative. Bolívar was aware of the danger of trying to use force against Páez, ‘since almost all the principal military commands throughout Colombia are filled by natives of Caracas’.110 So he compromised; to avoid civil war he had no choice. On 1 January 1827 he received Páez’s submission – but at a price, namely, total amnesty for all the rebels, guarantees of security in their offices and property, and promises of constitutional reform. After months of political turbulence and inner turmoil, the year 1826 ended with some respite for Bolívar, accompanied by signs that Colombia’s problems were far from over.
Chapter 10
THE MAGIC OF HIS PRESTIGE
Adios Venezuela
Bolívar loved his native city from a distance, though he was not always homesick for it, ‘for the earthquakes there are intolerable and the people more so’.1 But on 4 January 1827, accompanied by Páez, he entered Caracas to a hero’s welcome and the triumphal arches, garlands, songs, ceremonies and celebrations that recalled happier times. Fifteen young women in white presented him with two laurel crowns, ‘one for his triumph over the tyrants, the other for his triumph in preventing civil war’, laurels which he promptly diverted, one to Páez and the other in dedication to Colombia. And in a scene orchestrated by the Liberator himself he presented Páez with his sword, and sat through the reply: ‘Fellow countrymen, the sword of Bolívar is in my hands. For you and for him I will march with it to eternity.’2 It was to be a double–edged weapon.
Bolívar was privately critical of Páez, but he flattered him in public, had him live in the same house and seemed to be preparing Venezuela for separate acceptance of his Bolivian Constitution and entry into the confederation of the Andes. From January to June 1827 Bolívar governed Venezuela in person. He proceeded on the assumption that Venezuelans – Spanish Americans –were not fit for democracy. Abject, superstitious and ignorant as they were, they did not understand the practice of good government, having been deprived of it by their Spanish oppressors. ‘Instead of liberty, we find insubordination and licentiousness; under the name of patriotism, intrigue and treachery; venality in the place of public virtue, whilst personal revenge is covered by the cloak of justice.’3 Therefore he found nothing alarming in a strong executive, if that was what Páez could provide. He confirmed the caudillo in his command with the title of Superior Chief of Venezuela, a title which did not exist in the constitution and which Bolívar produced to recognize the facts of the case and legitimize a caudillo. Páez would never obey Bogotá, but he might obey Bolívar. Yet Páez’s political role was determined not only by Bolívar. He was recognized as a valuable leader by the Caracas landowners, merchants and others of the coalition that he kept together on a platform of peace and security and on the awareness of a mutual need. He was also appreciated by his cronies, Mariño, Peña and others, who were promptly appointed by Bolívar to the various offices they craved.4 All this, pleasing to the Caracas faction, incurred the most scathing criticism of Santander and his supporters for leniency towards Páez and unconstitutional tendencies. Ironically, Bolívar himself had serious doubts about Páez, whom he saw as an insincere and authoritarian figure, doing well in his own business deals, yet incapable of independent judgement or even of writing his own letters:
General Páez is the most ambitious and vain man in the world: he has no desire to obey, only to command; it pains him to see me above him in the political hierarchy of Colombia; he does not even recognize his own incompetence, so blinded is he by pride and ignorance, always the instrument of his advisers. I regard him as the most dangerous man for Colombia, for he has means of action, determination, and prestige among the llaneros, and whenever he wishes he can secure the support of the people and of the blacks and zambos.5
The conclusion of the British consul in Caracas was unequivocal. The mass of t
he people in Venezuela wanted a change in the form of government. The traditional aristocracy, army and clergy wanted a hereditary prince. The republicans and reformers favoured the Bolivian Constitution. The intellectuals and lawyers wanted an independent federated state. The popular sectors mainly wanted a quiet life from whatever form of government, though some preferred a complete revolution to bring the coloureds to power and would be happy to promote ‘the extinction of the whites’. General opinion would favour a supreme government for Venezuela, federated with Colombia, Quito, Peru and Bolivia, and the whole under the immediate auspices and protection of the Liberator, as supreme president. The amnesty and settlement granted by Bolívar to Páez and his party had given ‘universal satisfaction’ in Venezuela. But Ker Porter himself did not doubt that Colombia needed a dictatorship, free from the vice–president and his adherents, that Bolívar alone could save the country and that he would give the people ‘that form of government he judges best suited to their present moral state’. A partial view, perhaps, but one which probably reflected the views of the Liberator.6
Bolívar spent his working life receiving bad news, and in 1826–27 the news was always bad. The Bolivian Constitution had few supporters outside Bolivia. And political opinion in Bogotá derided the projected federation of the Andes as unrealistic and unacceptable to the component parts. As Santander himself remarked, with ironic understatement, ‘It seems to me rather impractical.’7 Relations with Santander deteriorated further, as the vice–president criticized Bolívar’s Venezuelan settlement and alleged ambition for dictatorship, while the santanderistas campaigned against the Liberator in the liberal press. Bolívar denounced Santander’s financial administration and his handling of the British loan: ‘Public confidence, love for law, and respect for state officials have vanished. Dissatisfaction is general.’8 He cultivated his own Bolivarians in opposition to the so–called constitutionalists. His relations with Santander, damaged since 1824, now plunged beyond repair as he renounced their friendship and stopped writing. ‘I can no longer stand the faithless ingratitude of Santander; I have today informed him that I will no longer write to him, for I do not wish to reply to him or to call him friend.’9 Santander replied that it was better to bring the break into the open than to hide behind a pretence. He maintained a position of public respect and private hatred, advising Bolívar to return to Bogotá and submit himself to the constitution, and in any case to get rid of Páez.10 Soon he dropped all pretence and demanded Bolívar’s removal from the presidency. And the public now knew that their president and vice–president were enemies.
The news from Peru was also bad. The Colombian division mutinied against its Venezuelan officers and, under orders from its commander Colonel José Bustamante, a New Granadan, arrested officers of Venezuelan descent, claiming to act in defence of the constitution. The rebels then sailed for Colombia. With the departure of the army Bolivarian Peru fell apart. Bolívar’s constitution was thrown out; a new president, Santa Cruz, was elected, and among the turncoats was the ‘incorruptible’ Pando. Guayaquil looked likely to secede to Peru, with Santa Cruz’s encouragement and Bustamante’s connivance. Santander was implicated in the mutiny and did not hide his support of Bustamante. In Bogotá he had the bells rung in celebration and went out on the streets to enjoy the cheers of the masses. Bolívar was furious, convinced that Santander had actively instigated the Peruvian crash. He had one trustworthy ally. In Lima, Manuela rode in her uniform to the barracks and appealed to the troops to remember their loyalty to the Liberator, but was promptly imprisoned for her pains and ordered out of Peru; making her way to Guayaquil, she managed to reach Quito with Bolívar’s archives secure in her possession.
Bolívar was still in Caracas, trying to stem the tides of destitution and despair. The country was bankrupt, the army unpaid, soldiers were rampaging, officials starving. In Barcelona blacks and slaves were stirring and social unrest was a daily menace. He set to work on customs duties, education, hospitals and the conditions of slaves. But it was a losing battle: ‘We Americans, reared in a system of slavery, do not understand living according to simple laws or liberal principles. I am determined to do my utmost. To save my country I once declared war to the death…. To save it again I shall make war on the rebels even if I must fall to their knives.’11 Even in the midst of political turmoil he never abandoned his interest in education and civilized values. Although he himself was not a university graduate, he took a close interest in the affairs of the University of Caracas. He supported José María Vargas, a respected medical doctor who had studied at the University of Edinburgh, for appointment as Rector, against those who wanted to invoke the law against the appointment of Doctors of Medicine, and a few days before leaving Caracas he personally approved the reform of the university’s statutes.12
Appreciated in Caracas and suspect in Bogotá, he was in a quandary, despairing that what he established with his hands others trampled underfoot. He delayed, until he heard that Bustamante had invaded the region of Guayaquil and raised the stakes for war between Colombia and Peru. Then he knew he had to go south, at least as far as Bogotá, and he said goodbye to Caracas for the last time in his life. He sailed from La Guaira on 4 July 1827 and a week later was handsomely entertained in Cartagena by General José Prudencio Padilla before sailing up the Magdalena from Barranca by steamboat. As he approached the Colombian capital, each side waged a war of words and of nerves, Santander challenging him to advance no further, Bolívar, keeping his army at his side, determined to take over the executive power. Santander described the approach to Bogotá by Bolívar and his commander, Urdaneta, as an army marching against a rebel city, ready to punish the government and constitutionalists as traitors to be sacrificed to Bolívar’s vengeance and ambition.13
Before Congress on 10 September Bolívar was sworn into office and called for the convocation of the national assembly. The ceremony was held in the church of Santo Domingo with members of congress seated in a double circle of chairs. Mary English, wife of a British merchant, was present near the front with a good view of the proceedings. She saw the Liberator emerge from the street to music and the peal of bells, and walk slowly up the middle of the church with a steady step but an awkward gait, like a person affected by long riding and, though she may not have known, by painful haemorrhoids, from which he had long suffered. He looked tired and not in good health, but he repeated the form of oath firmly and made a speech. At Government House the meeting with Santander was cold and they did not shake hands, but formal speeches were made. Afterwards Bolívar caught sight of the lovely Mrs English, previously wooed and lost by Colonel Patrick Campbell, the British consul–general, and seems to have recovered his spirits sitting next to her and flattering her with his attentions. She saw him a number of times, at balls, the races, and her home, and was impressed by his beautiful manners, affable nature, intellectual face, and the ‘perfect symmetry and beauty’ of his ankles. He gave her an engraving of himself.14 But in the midst of his political and social life his thoughts were with Manuela and he wanted her with him now more than ever.
On 18 November a severe earthquake shook Bogotá, causing damage to many churches, convents and houses, including that of Colonel Campbell. But political life continued, as did the stand–off between president and vice–president. For Bolívar the political future looked bleak. The repudiation of his system in Peru ended any idea of a federation of the Andes. General Flores ejected Bustamante from Guayaquil and established a government favourable to Bolívar, but Flores was now a power in Quito, another question mark against Colombian unity. The Bolivian Constitution was becoming a liability. ‘Throw it in the fire if you don’t want it,’ Bolívar said, ‘I don’t have an author’s vanity in matters of human concern.’15 He seemed not to realize why politicians would never agree to a life–presidency. It deprived them of the major political prize for the foreseeable future, their prime ambition snatched from them. Meanwhile he governed through the extraordinary powers the existi
ng constitution allowed him, and so was branded a dictator by the liberals. But it was not in his nature to resign. He was not about to abandon sixteen years of struggle and throw away the achievements of successive liberations to satisfy politicians whom he despised.
Quest for Strong Government
For the next three years Bolívar was living on what o’Leary called ‘the magic of his prestige’.16 Deprived of the political security he sought for himself and the institutions he wanted for Colombia, he was vulnerable to hostility and disrespect for his views and policies. Although he continued to speak of liberation, tyranny and victories, the battles were not the same. In 1827–8 every day was a day of politics, a time of tension, a scene of conflict between president and vice–president. Amidst the growing anarchy, when the independence of the great magnates and the restlessness of the masses threatened to destroy the young republic, rival policies were canvassed. Bolívar spoke compulsively of the need for ‘strong government’. ‘I can see the certain destruction of Colombia unless the government is given an enormous power, capable of subduing the anarchy which will raise a thousand seditious heads.’17 He believed that the constitution did not conform to the social structure or the needs of the people: ‘We have made the legislative alone the sovereign body, whereas it should only have a share of sovereignty. We have made the executive subordinate to the legislative, which has been given a far greater share in administration than the nation’s true interests require.’18 The right to initiate legislation had been given exclusively to the legislative, which also had the power to prevail over the executive veto. Moreover, the constitution gave the judicial power excessive independence, and the executive no means of intervening when necessary; it had even given the civil courts absolute control in military cases, thus destroying discipline and undermining the confidence of the army. These defects would have to be remedied by a new constitutional congress; meanwhile he himself tried to supply the deficiencies of the constitution and to give Colombia the ‘strong government’ which it needed. Liberals were outraged. Santander regarded the new regime as conservative and militarist, a threat to all the liberal achievements of the last six years, and he now veered towards outright federalism. Some of his associates overreacted and went into hiding, fearing for their lives.
