On June 28 a coup deposed Honduran president Manuel Zelaya, ending his attempt to hold a referendum that would permit his re-election. That same day in Argentina, former president Nestor Kirchner was defeated in a mid-term election that many people viewed as a test of whether or not he or his wife Cristina, Argentina’s current president and Nestor’s successor, would continue as president after the vote of 2011. Both events crystallized a peculiar Latin American phenomenon: the temptation to empower a new, local Caesar.
This “caesarism” is not a new idea. Instead, it marks the return of a practice that had seemed to have been consigned to history’s dustbin that has now returned with a vengeance.
In 1919, the first edition of Democratic Caesarism, by the Venezuelan historian and sociologist Laureano Vallenilla Lanz, was published and widely circulated across the continent. Vallenilla claimed to be seeking an effective (as opposed to the formal) constitutional system for his country.
To achieve this end, Vallenilla argued that, at least in the case of Venezuela, a charismatic leader, confirmed in power through regular elections, would be best placed to concentrate political power successfully and guarantee institutional order. Ninety years later, it looks as though with the rise of a variety of neo-caudillos, Vallenilla’s idea of the “good Caesar” is coming back.
Indeed, the victory of presidential incumbents across Latin America has become the predominant trend in the region’s elections. For most of the 19th century and well into the Cold War era, re-election of a sitting president was generally prohibited in the great majority of Latin American countries, owing to a general fear of leaders remaining permanently in power, abetted by the prevalence of electoral fraud.
Permanence and fraud are, of course, the hallmarks of authoritarian governments everywhere. In the last century, coups d’etat were often the means by which (mostly military) rulers remained in power for many years, outlawing and persecuting the opposition. Nowadays, leaders are achieving the same end at the ballot box.
This phenomenon is relatively new. With Latin America’s most recent democratic transition, which began in the 1980s, national constitutions and electoral laws were gradually reformed and modernized. Several democratically elected leaders urged constitutional modifications in order to remain in power.
Over time, what had been an exception became routine: the possibility of consecutive terms or alternating re-election of presidents in countries with little democratic tradition. This trend was accompanied by the fact that these societies were marked by a high degree of inequality, as well as unstable economies, weak political parties, fragmented oppositions and fragile institutions. Indeed, in Latin America today, there are 14 representative democracies that allow presidential re-election: seven consecutively and seven discontinuously.
But something new has recently been introduced in Latin America’s political system: the notion of unlimited re-election. Hugo Chavez first achieved this in Venezuela and there are other specters of potentially perpetual re-elections. In the Dominican Republic, Leonel Fernandez (1996-2000, 2004-2008, 2008-2012) began serving his third four-year term in office last year and the party in power has not ruled out the possibility of modifying the Carta Magna to allow him yet another term.
In Colombia, Alvaro Uribe (2002-2006, 2006-2010), in power since 2002, got his chance for a first re-election in 2006 through a questionable constitutional reform and appears set to try for a third term by forcing a referendum to amend the Constitution again. In Brazil, Luis Inacio Lula da Silva, in power since 2003, was re-elected in 2007, and now many members of his party are pushing for a constitutional reform that would allow him a third term.
In a recent interview with British journalist David Frost, Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega, who returned to power in 2006, declared himself in favor of immediate re-election. Before having completed a year in office, Paraguayan President Fernando Lugo declared himself in favor of presidential re-election, currently prohibited in his country. In Bolivia and Ecuador, immediate re-election is already possible. In short, Latin America appears to be becoming a region of democracy by plebiscite.
Many of the presidents re-elected, either directly or by alternating terms with someone else, a la the Kirchners, won because they seemed to be responding to social demands for more security or less poverty. So Latin America is now constantly presented with “extraordinary” situations that supposedly require a certain individual, such as a great, benevolent cacique, to occupy the center of the political scene and govern with an enormous discretionary capacity.
However, as the English philosopher Jeremy Bentham once wrote, the more one is exposed to the exercise of political power, the greater the temptations. True to that dictum, the excessive personalization of politics, the search for political hegemony and the fragmentation of the opposition reflected in Latin America’s neo-caesarism have served to concentrate power in the executive and hollow out countervailing institutions, including intermediary bodies between the state and society.
The attraction of remaining in power is getting stronger across the region. In view of this, it is essential to seek better systems of checks and balances as well as to strengthen and sharpen public control of the executive.
All of these tasks are domestic; the danger posed by the profusion of re-elected presidents will not be checked by external forces. Moreover, since Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo, the US has lost its formerly strong authority in promoting democracy. Confused and self-absorbed, Europe is not in the best position to wield influence. Russia and China continue to apply their own authoritarian formulas at home and have little to offer internationally to curb caudillismo.
So the problem of democratic caesarism is one for Latin America’s people to confront. They will either reject this trend, or succumb to it.
Juan Gabriel Tokatlian is a professor of international relations at the Universidad de Di Tella, Argentina.
COPYRIGHT: PROJECT SYNDICATE
When 17,000 troops from the US, the Philippines, Australia, Japan, Canada, France and New Zealand spread across the Philippine archipelago for the Balikatan military exercise, running from tomorrow through May 8, the official language would be about interoperability, readiness and regional peace. However, the strategic subtext is becoming harder to ignore: The exercises are increasingly about the military geography around Taiwan. Balikatan has always carried political weight. This year, however, the exercise looks different in ways that matter not only to Manila and Washington, but also to Taipei. What began in 2023 as a shift toward a more serious deterrence posture
Reports about Elon Musk planning his own semiconductor fab have sparked anxiety, with some warning that Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC) could lose key customers to vertical integration. A closer reading suggests a more measured conclusion: Musk is advancing a strategic vision of in-house chip manufacturing, but remains far from replacing the existing foundry ecosystem. For TSMC, the short-term impact is limited; the medium-term challenge lies in supply diversification and pricing pressure, only in the long term could it evolve into a structural threat. The clearest signal is Musk’s announcement that Tesla and SpaceX plan to develop a fab project dubbed “Terafab”
China’s AI ecosystem has one defining difference from Silicon Valley: It is embrace of open source. While the US’ biggest companies race to build ever more powerful systems and insist only they can control them, Chinese labs have been giving the technology away for free. Open source — making a model available for anyone to use, download and build on — once seemed a niche, nerdy topic that no one besides developers cared about. However, when a new technology is driving trillions of dollars of investments and leading to immense concentrations of power, it offered an antidote. That is part of
Most schoolchildren learn that the circumference of the Earth is about 40,000km. They do not learn that the global economy depends on just 160 of those kilometers. Blocking two narrow waterways — the Strait of Hormuz and the Taiwan Strait — could send the economy back in time, if not to the Stone Age that US President Donald Trump has been threatening to bomb Iran back to, then at least to the mid-20th century, before the Rolling Stones first hit the airwaves. Over the past month and a half, Iran has turned the Strait of Hormuz, which is about 39km wide at