Venezuela POPULATION DYNAMICS
Unavailable
Figure 3. Estimated Population by Age and Sex, mid-1985
Squatter settlements, commonly known as ranchos, in Caracas
Courtesy Inter-American Development Bank
View of Caracas
Courtesy Karen Sturges-Vera
Three races contributed significantly to the
composition of
the Venezuelan population: whites, Africans, and Indians.
The
Indians of the region belonged to a number of distinct
tribes.
Those who devoted themselves to agriculture and fishing
belonged
mainly to the Arawak, Ajaguan, Cumanagoto, Ayaman, and
other
Carib tribes. The Guajiro lived, as they still do today,
in the
area that became the state of Zulia
(see
fig. 1). The
Timoto-Cuica lived in the states of Táchira, Mérida,
Trujillo,
and Lara. The Caquetío, who prevailed in the area of
present-day
Falcón state, developed probably the highest cultural
state of
civilization of all the indigenous groups. A number of
tribes
also lived, as the Guajiro still do, in the Amazon jungle.
Compared with other Latin American countries, however,
Venezuela
never had a large Indian population. After discovery by
Spain,
this population diminished still further, mainly because
the
natives lacked immunity to the many diseases brought to
the New
World from Europe
(see Discovery and Conquest
, ch. 1). In
addition, Indians and Spanish intermarried; the product of
this
union, the mestizo, often opted for or was forced into
assuming
Spanish customs and religion. Fewer than 150,000 Indians
were
counted in the 1981 census, and, of these, over a third
were made
up by the Guajiro, who, though distinctive, were mostly
Roman
Catholic, wore their own version of Western-style
clothing, and
traded openly with other Venezuelans and Colombians.
During the colonial period, white Venezuelans
immigrated
mostly from Spain. Most blacks were brought from Africa as
slaves
to replace the large numbers of Indians who died from
diseases
and other consequences of the conquest. The African slaves
labored in the hot, equatorial coastal plantations.
Although
miscegenation was widespread, it did not diminish the
importance
of color and social origin. In colonial society,
peninsulares (those born in Spain) enjoyed the
greatest
prestige and power. Criollos (those born in America of
Spanish
parentage) occupied a subordinate position. Mestizos,
blacks, and
Indians made up the large lower end of the social
hierarchy. Even
at these lower levels, those who could somehow demonstrate
a
measure of white ancestry enhanced their chances of
avoiding a
life of penury.
Although the criollos resented the peninsulares,
they
did not identify or empathize with the lower strata.
Instead,
they remained deeply aware of the potential for trouble
from the
large mass below them and employed a variety of means to
keep the
nonwhite peoples at a safe distance. Despite their
sometimes
disreputable personal backgrounds, peninsulares
boasted
that they had pure white pedigrees. Circumstances rendered
the
ancestry of some criollos more questionable, and even the
wealthiest were conscious of race mixture and anxious to
dispel
any doubts as to their parentage by remaining as separate
from
the nonwhite and mulatto population as possible.
Perceptions of
race, however, evolved somewhat over time in response to
changing
social, political, and even cultural interests.
Reforms in the eighteenth century affected race
relations by
enhancing the social mobility of the crown's nonwhite
subjects.
During this period, persons of mixed racial origin, or
pardos (see Glossary), were allowed, for a price,
to join
the militia, to obtain an education, to hold public
office, and
to enter the priesthood. They could even purchase legal
certification of their "whiteness." These changes
eliminated most
of the few distinctions that had set the criollos apart
from the
darker-skinned masses (pardos at that time
represented
more than 60 percent of the population). Feeling their
already
tenuous position in society threatened, most Venezuelan
criollos
rejected the social policy of the Bourbons and established
themselves in the forefront of the revolutionary movement
for
independence.
Not all criollos, however, sought to preserve the
system
whereby pardos served as virtual vassals of the
upper
class. Twentieth-century Venezuelan history books proudly
recount
the late eighteen-century radical conspiracy of the
retired army
officer Manuel Gual and the hacienda owner José María
España, who
advocated a republic that would incorporate all races and
peoples
equally. Inspired by the rhetoric of the French
Revolution, the
small group led by Gual and España recruited
pardos, poor
whites, laborers, and small shopkeepers, calling for
equality and
liberty and for harmony among all classes. They also
promised to
abolish Indian tribute and black slavery and to institute
free
trade. Although Gual and España also invoked the example
of the
newly established United States, they received no
encouragement
from the young country. When the conspiracy surfaced in La
Guaira
in 1797, the Spanish authorities terminated the movement
in its
early stages. Not surprisingly, criollo property owners
collaborated with the authorities to suppress the radical
movement.
During the wars of independence, both criollo
revolutionaries
and Spanish loyalists sought to engage blacks and
pardos
in their cause. This competition opened up new paths for
advancement, mainly by way of the battlefield. Many of the
revolutionary armies depended heavily upon the
pardos to
fill their ranks; many also served as officers. Of greater
significance for nineteenth-century Venezuelan society,
the wars
of independence brought to the fore a new class of leaders
of
mixed social and racial origins, perhaps best exemplified
by José
Antonio Páez, a fiery llanero (plainsman). Páez and
leaders like him represented in almost every respect the
antithesis to the cerebral, worldly wise, white, and
refined
Simón Bolívar Palacios and others of his class.
Páez governed Venezuela either directly as president or
indirectly through his friends in the presidential office
from
1830 to 1848
(see A Century of Caudillismo
, ch. 1). It was
a
period of slow but undeniable transformation of Venezuelan
society. Although traditional exports such as cotton,
cacao,
tobacco, and beef expanded, coffee soon came to dominate
agricultural production. The transition to coffee brought
changes
to Venezuelan society. Coffee growing was less labor
intensive
than most agricultural pursuits; even in colonial times it
operated mostly under systems of sharecropping and
seasonal
labor, rather than slavery. During the nineteenth century,
small
farmers increased their share of national coffee
production and,
consequently, they moved upward on the social ladder.
Toward the end of the century, after the years of the
Federal
War (1858-63), fissures once again appeared in Venezuelan
society
as new social elements arose, often regardless of class,
place of
origin, race, or education. As in so much of the country's
social
history, a personality, another caudillo, best exemplified
the
new social order. In this case, the caudillo was Juan
Vicente
Gómez, a semiliterate Andean who dominated the national
political
scene from 1908 to 1935. Although often pictured as a
traditional
caudillo, Gómez did more than merely advance his own
interests
and those of his clique; he presided over the
transformation of
Venezuela from a rural to an urban society, from an
agrarian to
an industrial economy.
The illegitimate son of an Indian mother and a Spanish
immigrant, Gómez rose to prominence first as a local and
later a
national caudillo. Once in control of the national
government, he
brought prosperity to Venezuela through a regime of
repression,
austerity, and reform. Perhaps most important, Gómez
opened the
Venezuelan oil fields for exploration beginning in the
second
decade of the twentieth century; by 1928 Venezuela became
the
world's leading exporter of petroleum, second only to the
United
States in total petroleum production.
The impact of oil on Venezuelan society was enormous.
Gómez
used oil revenues to bolster his authoritarian regime. The
highway system he built helped to centralize his control
over the
country. Agriculture rapidly lost its preeminence as
petroleum
became the country's leading export. Oil profits funded
public
works programs, industrialization, port expansions, urban
modernization, and payment of the public debt. The new
revenue
also made Gómez and his cronies immensely rich. At the
same time,
Venezuela entered a new stage in its economic and social
development. Traditionally self-sufficient in food, the
country
began to import even basic foodstuffs. The petroleum
workers,
never more than 3 percent of the labor force, formed an
elite
union that served as the nucleus of a new labor movement.
The
promise of jobs, prosperity, and social advancement drew
Venezuelans from every corner of the country to the cities
of
Caracas and Maracaibo. In just a few short decades, rural
agricultural Venezuelan society became urban and
industrial; the
middle class expanded; ethnic groups mixed more readily;
and a
once largely isolated society found itself involved with
the rest
of the world.
Data as of December 1990
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