Caracas Chronicles

The twenty-four months spanning 1968 and 1969 marked a period of rupture across the globe. Their unprecedented intensity foreshadowed the political and cultural society that continues to shape us today. Prague experienced its spring turned winter under Soviet tanks. In China, the Cultural Revolution claimed new victims, while in France, students waving images of Mao and Che Guevara across the halls of the Sorbonne failed to spark a proletarian revolution, though they did contribute to the historic resignation of Charles de Gaulle.

In Mexico City, students also took to the streets, only to be met with bullets. In the United States, anti-Vietnam War protests and the civil rights movement were shaken by the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy. Culturally, the global crisis was expressed through psychedelic rock, music festivals, and the hippie movement. Meanwhile, the 1969 Apollo 11 landing on the Moon opened the possibility that future conflicts might unfold in space.

In Venezuela, a similar rupture impacted traditions rooted in a century and a half of republican life. The norm was for the opposition to come to power through revolution or military coup. Peaceful attempts, such as that of José Manuel Hernández in 1897, typically ended in electoral fraud, uprisings, imprisonment, or exile. Where political hatred had once interrupted party alternation and institutional development, the democracy born in 1958 was proving otherwise.

A decade after two consecutive Acción Democrática (AD) governments, the path was opening for an ideological shift at the Miraflores Palace. Then-president Raúl Leoni had continued the work started by Rómulo Betancourt, putting his own stamp on a period largely remembered as one of cautious optimism and relative calm—though debates persist about the excesses of the anti-guerrilla struggle.

On December 1, 1968, Venezuela held its third consecutive democratic election and the second under the 1961 Constitution. COPEI candidate Rafael Caldera won by a margin of just over 33,000 votes—barely 1%—ahead of ruling party candidate Gonzalo Barrios. This narrow result has often been interpreted not as a Social Christian victory, but as a defeat for AD due to its internal divisions and the alternate candidacy of Luis Beltrán Prieto Figueroa. As in other moments of Venezuelan history, many have sought a single explanation for a politically and ideologically rich period.

But despite their differences, they [Leoni and Caldera] shared a common struggle and were key factors in achieving democratic change.

The opposition victory in 1968 was not solely due to the magnanimity of a president willing to hand over power, defying the tradition that “governments do not lose elections,” though that played a part. Nor was it merely a power-sharing strategy to prevent a one-party system like Mexico’s “Institutional Revolutionary” model. The improvement in democratic quality was rooted in a commitment to institutional continuity, a desire for transformation, and a dynamism perhaps born of modernity’s optimism.

The road to ’68: Building toward change

On April 15, 1967, Caldera launched his candidacy at Caracas’ Nuevo Circo, claiming to “push hard” and “dismantle the myth of Acción Democrática’s invincibility.” During Betancourt’s presidency (1959–64), COPEI had supported the government and served as a pillar of stability during turbulent times. Under Leoni, with the party exercising its “autonomy of action,” the opposition grounded itself in concrete proposals, culminating in “The Program”—COPEI’s strategic plan to gain power in the upcoming election. Caldera summed it up in a December 9, 1966 El Nacional article: “The explosion of anti-AD sentiment is a potential force that must be channeled toward a constructive goal: giving Venezuelans a better government.”

The ideas of “change” and “program” permeated public discourse so deeply that in the satirical song Pablito (sin pistola) by Simón Díaz and Hugo Blanco about the 1968 presidential race, both themes were highlighted in reference to Caldera—along with his religiosity. Social Christian ideas were increasingly discussed and works such as the collective book Venezuela 68. La realidad nacional offered a diagnosis of the country from political, economic, social, and cultural angles. Contributors included Luis Herrera Campíns, Arístides Calvani, Haydée Castillo, Arnoldo Gabaldón, Ernesto Mayz Vallenilla, and educator Luisa Elena Vegas. At the same time, Caldera was building his international profile by heading both the Christian Democratic Organization of America (ODCA) and the World Union of Christian Democrats.

The December 1, 1968, election featured four main candidates: Barrios, Caldera, leftist Luis Beltrán Prieto Figueroa, and Miguel Ángel Burelli Rivas, the latter representing the “Frente de la Victoria”, backed by right-leaning figures like Arturo Uslar Pietri and dissident AD members like Jorge Dáger. Minor candidates included businessman Alejandro Hernández and the reactionary Germán Borregales. These third democratic elections sparked a wave of media campaigns and public statements. Anonymous allegations in the press accused COPEI members of being “Nazis” who imported their ideas from Germany, while Social Christian propaganda highlighted governmental inefficiency and long lines “at Social Security… at hospitals… for jobs… and phones.”

But other messages stood out—such as a humorous column by polymath writer and composer Conny Méndez in El Universal on November 24, encouraging women to vote for the candidate who best represented the country abroad, wasn’t boring, and had a known past. She concluded: “They say there are seven women for every man, so our vote matters seven times more than theirs.”

Acknowledging differences

Upon the announcement of the election results, cartoonist Pedro León Zapata drew a bandaged, battered man on crutches—grinning and declaring: “By a narrow margin… but I won!” Historian Manuel Caballero, paraphrasing Machiavelli, remarked on Caldera’s win: “Fortune governs half our actions, but we are responsible for the other half.” After ten tense days filled with rumors about reversing the narrow results, the Supreme Electoral Council proclaimed the new president-elect. From Caldera’s speech that day, the line that echoed was: “The Republic will not be lost in my hands.” He referred to President Leoni as a “friend of many years,” recalling the time they led Congress together—Leoni as president, Caldera as vice president—saying: “We maintained mutual respect, mutual cooperation, and the mutual dignity of our offices.” They had also been the principal signers of the 1961 constitution.

Caldera received the other candidates at his residence, where they came to congratulate him. Visitors included not just political opponents, but also figures from entertainment, media, and culture. Zapata, with his signature wit, sketched a long chameleon’s tail slipping into a water jug—playing on the name of Caldera’s home, Tinajero (Spanish name for water jug)—with the caption: “The early bird gets the clear water.”

In his fifth and final presidential message on March 7, 1969, Leoni called for “the ever-greater greatness of Venezuela” and expressed confidence that the country would be “carried forward with skill by the new President of the Republic, my illustrious successor Dr. Rafael Caldera, now the bearer of the people’s trust.”

Venezuela’s ’68 set a precedent for a culture of democratic institutionalism in a country long marked by political hatred. That year, and that political feat, may seem distant today. But they remain.

The peaceful transition started on March 11, 1969. In his inauguration speech, Caldera noted that the novelty of the situation had “highlighted the lack of adequate legal instruments to regulate the brief but delicate period between election and transfer of power.” Two weeks later, Caldera and his wife, Alicia Pietri, hosted a dinner at the official residence, La Casona, in honor of Leoni, his wife Carmen América Fernández “Menca,” and the outgoing cabinet. Caldera toasted: “Having you here tonight, in this house, gives us great satisfaction, because this gathering strengthens the institutions that are essential to the country’s progress.” He added: “La Casona will always be remembered as the house of the Leonis.”

The former president responded: “Doctrinal antagonisms, pragmatic differences, and tactical contradictions are common phenomena in the political life of the nation, but they should never prevent enlightening dialogue on the major issues affecting the country’s development.” In 1970, First Lady Alicia Pietri was invited by the Union of American Women to bestow the title “Woman of Venezuela” upon Menca. These symbolic gestures underscored the importance of administrative continuity in consolidating the system.

Between continuity and change

Once in power, the Social Christian government began to take shape—focused on regional planning and community participation. Holding a minority in Congress, the new AD opposition declared itself unyielding and blocked some key elements of “The Program,” such as housing and grassroots promotion initiatives. The so-called “government of change” was carried out largely alone, supported by a handful of independents.

Some may have believed that change meant abandoning existing projects. Yet administrative continuity prevailed. In the first year, several major works were inaugurated: La Chinita airport in Maracaibo, Simón Bolívar University, the Miguel Pérez Carreño Hospital, and the La Araña–Antímano highway in Caracas. Projects initiated under Leoni also moved forward: the El Tablazo petrochemical complex in Zulia, the José Antonio Páez dam in Mérida, and the development of the Guri dam in Bolívar. The National Council for Scientific and Technological Research (CONICIT) and the Free Trade Zone in Margarita Island—both established by Leoni—were launched.

In foreign policy, there was a significant shift—from the “Betancourt Doctrine” of not recognizing de facto regimes to a “Pluralist Solidarity” approach centered on building strategic blocs and emphasizing international social justice. This opening had already begun tentatively under Leoni, who initiated talks to establish relations with the Soviet Union. That process continued, along with Venezuela’s accession to the Andean Pact. One of the most memorable examples of institutional continuity may be how the Children’s Foundation (Fundación del Niño)—created by Menca—grew under Alicia Pietri to become a benchmark for childhood development in Venezuela.

We may never know if Leoni and Caldera were truly friends. Perhaps Leoni’s anticlerical upbringing, his ideological rigidity, and his ties with Colombia’s Liberal Party during exile prevented a closer relationship. But despite their differences, they shared a common struggle and were key factors in achieving democratic change. When Leoni died in 1972, halfway through Caldera’s term, it was Caldera who presided over his funeral in the Capitol’s Salón Elíptico on July 7. He declared: “…Venezuelans from all sectors, of all ideologies, and from every corner of the political spectrum, gather around his coffin to pay their admiration and respect. May this example serve as a lasting lesson for younger generations, before whom we must always demonstrate respect for those with differing views.”

Venezuela’s ’68 set a precedent for a culture of democratic institutionalism in a country long marked by political hatred. That year, and that political feat, may seem distant today. But they remain.