This latest installment in the Communal Resistance Series takes us to the Pancha Vásquez commune in Apure State in the Venezuelan plains region [Llanos].

The Pancha Vásquez Commune, in the Rómulo Gallegos municipality, covers some 84 thousand hectares. That land is distributed among 1200 families, most of them small to mid-sized ranchers.

The Venezuelan Llanos are legendary for their rich cultural heritage and spectacular landscapes, but it is also rife with political and social contradictions. These include issues relating to land ownership, Indigenous rights and dispossession, and spillover from neighboring Colombia’s internal conflict.

Located on the outskirts of Elorza, in the southwest of the state, Pancha Vásquez is a huge commune in terms of territory. The commune comprises fourteen communal councils, three of which focus on agriculture, while eleven are dedicated to cattle rearing. The lands in this vast territory are mostly in the hands of small to mid-sized producers who take pride not only in their equestrian traditions and folklore but also in the special role that Elorza played in Hugo Chávez’s biography. That is because, as a young officer, Chávez was stationed in Elorza from 1985 to 1987 and sharpened his political vision there.

Part I of this three-part series deals with the history and productive activities of the Pancha Vásquez Commune. Part II takes a look at how the communards have resisted the devastating effects of the US blockade. In Part III, we will learn about the years that a young army officer named Hugo Chávez spent in Elorza, the closest urban center to the Pancha Vásquez Commune.

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Part 1: Organizing Ranchers in the Venezuelan Llanos

How communards in the Venezuelan plains region produce, organize, and resist the impact of the US blockade.

The Commune’s Long Historical Roots

Successful communes in Venezuela usually emerge out of a long history of struggles. Here the communards in the Pancha Vásquez territory tell us about the region’s legacy of resistance and rebellion.

Indigenous Context

Hugo Calzadilla (Hugo Calzadilla is the local historian and a member of the Pancha Vásquez Commune): Before the colonization, the Indigenous peoples living here were the Cuiba and the Pumé. Most of them were violently displaced towards the Capanaparo River [to the South of Elorza] by Spanish settler colonialists.

Many of our stories and myths and some of our traditions can be traced back to the Pumé and Cuiba peoples. Even the commune, the idea of living collectively, is linked to their cosmovision.

However, mainstream culture lives with its back turned to our Indigenous heritage and is blind to the history of outright violence against the Indigenous peoples who inhabited this land. As recently as 1966 there was a massacre of Indigenous people in Apure state, in Hato La Rubiera.

These stories had an impact on Chávez when he was stationed here. He learned about the massacre and about persistent violence against Indigenous peoples from a revolutionary priest called Gonzalo de Jesús. Chávez and the Bolivarian Revolution fought for justice, but reparations for the Indigenous peoples of the Llanos are still a pending task. A revolution is never finished.

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Hugo Calzadilla: Going back to the so-called “beginning,” these lands were first colonized by Justo de Granada, who founded a town called San José de Arichuna in 1774, which later became known as Elorza.

The colonization went hand in hand with Christianization of the Indigenous peoples. In fact, what we now know as the “Fiestas de Elorza” [local festivities held yearly on March 19] can be traced back to the days when the Indigenous peoples would be forcefully baptized and made to honor Saint Joseph. Everything has its dark side and its bright side: the Fiestas de Elorza are a rich expression of our culture, but we can trace their origin back to settler colonialism.

Until 1866, the Colombia-Venezuela frontier followed the Arauca River. What we now know as Elorza – this town on the south side of the river and celebrated worldwide for its music – was a border settlement for much of its history. The Colombo-Venezuelan border was redrawn some 160 years ago: Apure expanded southward into what was formerly Colombia, and in exchange, Colombia received the Guajira Peninsula.

One last historical snippet: Elorza takes its name from José Andrés Elorza, one of the leaders of the “Bravos de Apure” [Apure Braves]. The “Bravos” were the horsemen who ran Spanish general Pablo Morillo and his troops out of these lands. Their protracted struggle against the colonizers was crucial to our country’s independence.

Pancha Vázquez, The Real Doña Bárbara

Hugo Calzadilla: Born Francisca Vásquez [1878-1931], “Pancha” was a local landowner, a woman who held her own in a patriarchal world. This historical figure, always surrounded by tales and myths, inspired Rómulo Gallegos’ 1929 novel Doña Bárbara, which is considered the greatest Venezuelan novel of the 20th century.

Pancha married Pedro Emilio Carrillo and had a son also known as Pedro Emilio. Widowed at an early age, she took control of the large cattle ranch she inherited. Pancha “ruled” [mandaba] with an iron fist and became hugely successful. We are still learning about the vast number of estates she owned. However, it’s known that she died with at least 50,000 hectares to her name and was said to own piles of gold.

Pancha Vásquez’s life is a story of success, tragedy, and misogyny.

Let me tell you one of the tragedies-become-legend that defined her life. Pancha’s only son was killed by a bizarre animal that she always kept by her side. Legend has it that the animal was half-bull and half-horse and a proxy of the devil!

My uncle witnessed the death of young Pedro Emilio, and informed Pancha of his death. When she heard the news, all she said was: I told him that he should not touch that bull! She didn’t shed a tear.

Perhaps Pancha Vásquez was a ruthless person, but she worked hand in hand with the cattle hands and forged her own path in a patriarchal world. We named the commune after her because of her strength and independence.

The Commune and Its History

The Pancha Vásquez Commune is one of the most consolidated communal initiatives in Venezuela’s plains region. Here we explore the commune’s origins and its forms of self-government.

Petra Cedeño (Petra Cedeño is a cattle rancher and parliamentarian at Pancha Vásquez Commune): This commune is composed of 14 communal councils. Its main activity is cattle rearing, mostly dual-purpose for both meat and dairy production. However, three of those 14 communal councils, the ones on the banks of the Arauca River, focus on agriculture. They produce corn, yuca, and plantain.

Additionally, fishing is also a part of our communal economy. As you can see, ours is a diversified and very productive commune.

Juan Fernández (Juan Fernández is a communal parliamentarian for Pancha Vásquez Commune and one of its founders): We began organizing back in 2006 when the communal councils were being developed. These democratic grassroots spaces were the foci of revolutionary activity. Four years later, in 2010, when Chávez began to talk about the commune, five communal councils founded what we now know as the Pancha Vásquez Commune. Eventually, nine more communal councils joined.

In 2014, we finally were able to register the commune. The process wasn’t easy: when you build a project that challenges constituted power, you encounter many roadblocks. Chávez, however, had already predicted that this would happen, so we knew that we had to be persistent.

The commune took the name of Pancha Vásquez by majority vote. The argument was that she had been an energetic and combative woman. Because she was a big landowner and not a woman of the pueblo, I was not too keen on the proposal… but that’s how democracy works!

Petra Cedeño: This is mostly a commune based on cattle-raising. Because of the large and open terrain we inhabit, all of us are very far apart from each other. That’s why, when Chávez began to talk about the commune as a space for bringing people closer together, we seized the idea.

Building a commune isn’t easy, but ours has become the key organizational force in the territory. Pancha Vásquez has brought us closer together: now we recognize and appreciate each other, understand what we have in common, and organize ourselves to address common problems.

Social Property and the Future

Juan Fernández: The land is privately owned at Pancha Vásquez, which limits our capacity to act as a commune. We now have the Collection and Distribution Center, a social property enterprise, but Chávez emphasized that non-private communal production is key to transforming society. Developing it is perhaps our most important pending task.

Just beyond the commune’s perimeter, but within the commune’s “punto y círculo” [Chávez’s conceptualization of a strategic area of influence], there is a great deal of underused state-owned land. We have requested that the INTI land institute transfer some land to the commune, but it hasn’t happened yet. Inside the state apparatus, some factions support the commune, while others favor “strategic alliances” with the private sector.

There’s another ranch inside the commune’s perimeter that is ripe for appropriation for the commune. A few years ago, an irregular armed group had a tract of land there. Fortunately, the National Antidrug Office [ONA] took action against them. Since then we have requested that the land be ceded to the commune, but we are still waiting for a decision on the matter. It would be fitting that it become communal land.

For us, the commune represents the future. The commune is not just a part of the project of building a better and more just Venezuela; it’s the beating heart of that project. That’s why the struggle to put some of the land in our commune under social property, and to obtain the resources to build communal enterprises is so important. Communal hegemony is crucial, but it won’t happen with ideas alone.

We live in a world where capitalism organizes everything – in contrast to the commune, which is Chávez’s legacy and our collective strategy. Even in the most difficult times, the commune has been a lifeline. We should never forget that!

Self-Government

Juan Fernández: Self-government is about people solving their day-to-day problems together. At Pancha Vásquez, we don’t want to be dependent on state institutions. At times we cooperate with them, and other times we demand their support. We believe that a significant portion of Venezuela’s oil rent should go to the communes, because communes represent the only way out of the capitalist trap.

In this commune, we aspire to build a relationship of cooperation with the government in which no one dominates. However, inside our territory, the commune is in charge.

What drives our efforts? The people, the communards, and the commune’s spokespeople who work tirelessly without any personal gain.

Of course, a commune isn’t a paradise. At Pancha Vásquez, we work hard, organize, and support each other, but problems do arise. Recently, we acquired a “Super-Duty” truck through an agreement with the Ministry of Communes. Some people wanted to use the truck for personal benefit.

The assembly – the highest authority in the commune – wasn’t about to let that happen, but solving the problem took months. The process was painful, but it also proved that the commune can address issues: we had to recall three spokespeople whose role was auditing and two others from the communal bank. It wasn’t easy but we were able to solve the problem collectively.

Now the truck is in the commune’s hands and it’s one of our main collective assets.

Petra Cedeño: A commune is a space where people discuss their problems, reflect on solutions, and organize a roadmap to achieve collective goals. It’s the community governing itself, as Chávez said!

The main problem we have as producers is getting our production to market and making sure that we don’t sell at a loss. These lands are vast and the roads are often in poor condition, making transportation a real problem. This is all compounded by the fuel shortages that the US blockade generates.

Once we identified that transportation was a key problem, it became clear that the commune needed a collection and distribution center to shorten distances.

We will discuss the Pancha Vásquez Collection and Distribution Center more fully later on, but I want to mention that we’ve been able to carry out that project with very limited funding from the Ministry of Communes, on the one hand, and a lot of work and sacrifice from Juan Fernández and other communards, on the other.

In its two refrigeration rooms, local producers can store meat or cheese until the sale is concluded. Why is that important? That way the producers are no longer forced to sell to intermediaries immediately at the prices they impose. Instead, a producer can wait a few days (or months, in the case of cheese) until market conditions are optimal.

Two Communal Leaders: Juan Fernández and Petra Cedeño

Despite being assembly-based spaces, functioning communes generally depend on a vanguard organizational group and specific cadres who fulfill leadership roles. Here, we tell the stories of two key figures in the Pancha Vásquez Commune.

Juan Fernández: My commitment to this land and the people who care for it can be traced back to my father, Ramón Rafael Fernández. He was a cattle herder, a hardworking man with integrity, who was deeply cherished by the community. He was always solidarious.

He raised his children to be hardworking and honest. My father didn’t go to school, but he worked hard and made sacrifices so that we could receive a good education. He first sent me to study in Biruaca [in Apure state], then Mérida. Finally, I went to college in Barinas. As a student, I became interested in politics, read Communist Party documents, and learned about the Chinese communes.

While my father didn’t identify as a leftist, he truly loved humanity and was very solidarious with everyone in the community. He used to say that people getting together to solve problems is the only solution.

My father died in 2008. Remembering him still brings tears to my eyes.

My father trained and educated me, but I was also shaped up by Comandante Chávez. Chávez emphasized the principle of solidarity and urged us to prioritize collective needs over individual ones. If my father was (and is) my moral guide, Chávez was my political mentor.

Now, as I dedicate my life to building the commune, I can say that I have had two fathers. I deeply mourn their loss, but in my own way, I continue on the path they laid out.

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Petra Cedeño: This is a man’s world. There are very few women ranchers here and in the commune, I’m one of only two female parliamentarians.

I learned the trade from my father, who is a rancher in Biruaca.

On our ranch, we have around 250 dual-purpose cows, along with pigs, chickens, guinea fowl, and turkeys. Cheese is our primary product. In the summer, we produce about 18 kilos of cheese daily, but that goes up to 30 kilos during the rainy season.

Tending to a ranch is not for the faint of heart, but I enjoy the work. I enjoy working with people and making things work. That is what drew me to the commune. We live and work in a vast plain. Many of our ranches are far from each other; we have no phone coverage and many people don’t have electricity, so we learn about the world through the radio. But that is not enough! For me, the commune is about bringing us together, listening to each other, and solving very real problems.

That’s why my home has become a sort of communal headquarters. When people need a letter of endorsement from the communal council or from the commune, they come to my place and we figure it out.

First and foremost, I’m a problem solver. I enjoy working with and for the community. I want to see our commune prosper and our production grow. I dream of the day when everyone who is not yet committed to the commune will join it!

Production

Apure’s vast plains are ideal for rearing livestock. When you look at the landscape, the flatlands are punctuated by large samán trees and herds of both cows and water buffalo.

Fundamentals

Juan Fernández: The economic basis of the commune is dual-purpose cattle [for milk and meat], although there are three communal councils on the margins of the Arauca River dedicated to agriculture. They produce corn, yuca, plantain, and topocho [a small plantain].

We estimate that there are about 60,000 heads of cattle in the commune, although we don’t have a livestock census. Most of our producers are small to mid-sized ones, but there are four “hatos” [large cattle ranches], each with 10,000 heads of cattle or more.

Chávez often talked about the importance of communal property and collective production for building a new socialist model. Our commune has no communal land, so we are working with that goal in mind. I’m sure we will succeed because we are really stubborn.

We do have, however, the recently built Pancha Vásquez Collection and Distribution Center, which is a social property enterprise. The Distribution Center just opened its doors [March 2024], but it will be very important for the commune.

A Rancher

Gerardo Ramírez (Gerardo Ramírez is a cattle rancher and spokesperson for the Pancha Vásquez Commune): Our family-run production unit focuses on raising cattle – both buffalo and cows – for milk and cheese production. I used to grow corn, rice, and watermelon, but not anymore. Purchasing agricultural inputs became very difficult.

We currently have 80 heads between cows and buffalo. This is a low number for us: not too long ago 137 heads were stolen. Irregular armed groups are penetrating the Colombo-Venezuelan frontier and rustling cattle. In the past five years, our production has fallen by about 50%. First, sanctions made access to the inputs for raising livestock very difficult; then came the fuel shortages. You get the picture: the situation isn’t easy.

However, we won’t give up! I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m not from here but from Táchira, though I’m staying here for good. This land is beautiful and productive. Moreover, our commune offers a space to solve our problems. However, we really need the local and regional governments to address some of the problems that we have.

On our end, we’re working to boost production. Chávez once told us that buffalo would become the “black gold” of the Venezuelan Llanos. He was right: buffalo are far more resilient and productive. While there may be less demand for the meat right now, it’s actually very good, and buffalo milk is far richer in fat. As we speak, we are growing our buffalo herd. Many other ranchers are doing the same.

A Beekeeper

José Salomón Calzadilla (José Calzadilla is a beekeeper in the Pancha Vásquez Commune): I learned about beekeeping from Father Gonzalo de Jesús about 25 years ago. Father Gonzalo was the same man who became Chávez’s spiritual mentor when he was posted in Elorza.

Beekeeping is a fascinating blend of science and nature, with each hive being an intricate and efficient world. These lands are good for honey production, but climate change is affecting our output. We used to produce about 500 kilos of honey every month during the dry season, but now it’s down to 400 kilos due to climate change.

We work with African bees. I bought the nucleus colony in Acarigua [Portuguesa state] many years ago. Now I have reached a point where I don’t need to purchase any inputs. If one is patient and learns the trade, the bees will do the rest!

In addition to beekeeping, I maintain a conuco [subsistence plot] where I grow corn, yuca, and beans, mostly for family consumption. Most producers in the commune do the same thing.

A Tobacco Grower

José Araque (José Araque is a communal parliamentarian at Pancha Vásquez Commune, and is a meat, milk, and cheese producer): My main production is chimó [chewing tobacco], although my family also has 70 heads of cattle.

Growing and processing tobacco is a meticulous process that combines agricultural skill with careful curing. First, the tobacco leaves are hand-harvested and sun-dried. Then, after finely chopping the tobacco leaves and mixing them with ashes, the product is cooked and reduced to develop rich flavors and the right texture. The whole process can take several weeks.

Diversifying production is important. Chimó-making was nearly a lost trade here, but it’s a viable, if labor-intensive, alternative. Producing a good batch is satisfying, and there is a market for it!

A Goat and Sheep Breeder

Róger Rodríguez (Róger Rodríguez is a cattle rancher in the Pancha Vásquez Commune): “La Pradera,” my family farm, spans 175 hectares. Here, that is considered a small to mid-sized ranch. Due to the blockade, the past few years have been very difficult, so we have seen our herd significantly reduced.

This is why I’m working to diversify our production. I don’t want to be a monoproducer: if I’m growing animals to sell cheese or meat, I should be able to ensure the whole supply chain, from breeding the animals to making the feed. If I can produce the food for my herd in La Pradera, I’ll be less dependent on the market, creating a “virtuous circle,” which is one of my goals at the moment.

I now have a small herd of sheep and goats. They are robust animals. They can endure droughts, and we can surely feed them out of our farm. Our goal is to build up the herd and focus on artisanal cheese-making.

To further diversify, I also have pigs. I have been shifting away from conventional feed to producing my own feed for them. During the mango season, I throw mangos and corn cobs into a metal drum and let them ferment for about three months. Mango trees are very productive. The output is a product that is almost as efficient as commercial feed.

Finally, when it comes to diversification, the conuco is also key. This is not a new practice: our grandparents passed it on to our parents, who in turn passed it on to us. In itself the conuco is the most diversified agricultural form that I know of, and it kept us alive during the worst of the blockade. In our conuco, we grow everything from corn to plantains.

The Communal Market

Juan Fernández: The Pancha Vásquez Commune includes three riverside communal councils. The members of those communal councils mostly engage in agriculture, and they launched a project called the Communal Market.

The Communal Market was born under the aegis of a powerful slogan: A day without intermediaries! Every Saturday, the campesinos gather to sell their produce directly to the folks from the José Andrés Elorza Commune [an urban commune in Elorza]. In so doing, they are breaking free of the yoke of the intermediaries, who exploit both the producer and the consumer.

However, the market has been dwindling due to fuel shortages, making it hard for campesinos to bring their produce to the market… And so, intermediaries are reemerging in our local economy.

We have learned some lessons from this situation: we all know that the intermediary, the so-called middleman, is not an ally of the producer. We took an important step toward freeing ourselves from the intermediaries’ exploitative practices by creating the Pancha Vásquez Collection and Distribution Center.

Milk Collection Center

Rigoberto Contreras (Rigoberto Contreras is the coordinator of a Milk Collection Center inside the Pancha Vásquez Commune): The “El Reencuentro” Milk Collection Center, in the heart of the Pancha Vásquez Commune, opened its doors in 2012. In our municipality, milk production is key, so ensuring that our producers have an accessible place to deliver their dairy production is super important.

We have a 3000-liter cooling tank, with daily intake ranging from 900 liters in the dry season to 2600 liters during the rainy season. You could say that the Milk Collection Center is now a space run by and for “free and associated producers.”

It works like this: producers are paid 47 cents per liter for cow milk and 64 cents for buffalo milk if they deliver to the center. They get slightly less when we ourselves have to fetch the milk from the farms.

Overall there is a general shift away from cows to buffalo because buffalos are more robust. During the past year or so we have seen a general upward trend in milk production due to this shift.

We have had ups and downs in the production and collection of milk since the blockade began. On the one hand, when it was very hard to get fuel, getting the milk to the collection center was difficult. On the other hand, many herds dwindled.

Finally, we faced another problem up until 2021. Until then, we paid milk producers in bolívares, but rampant hyperinflation made it hard for them. Now the payment is regular and in dollars, which is an incentive for producers to bring their milk here.

Juan Fernández: From a legal standpoint, the Milk Collection Center is a private enterprise, but it is run as a network of freely associated producers. Our goal is to convert it into a Social Property Enterprise [EPS] linked to the commune.

We want it to become an EPS for three reasons. First, we are committed to communal property. Second, because the Milk Collection Center is technically a private enterprise, state institutions are not inclined to support it. Third, Agroflora, the enterprise that purchases the milk, sets the rules without consulting us. By contrast, communal administration would give us more leverage to negotiate rates and request state funding.

In short, we are always pushing in the direction of the commune, which is the space that opens a window to the new world.

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Part II: Llaneros Resist the Blockade

When production dropped, Venezuelans from the plains region turned to the commune to find solutions.

A Collection and Distribution Center

The Pancha Vazquez commune has recently inaugurated a Collection and Distribution Center as part of the government’s Communal Circuits initiative. The center consists of a 440 m² single-story building equipped with walk-in refrigerators. The project was funded by the government and built with volunteer labor.

Origins of the Project

Juan Fernández: In 2018, our commune began to directly exchange goods, via barter, with other communes, particularly with El Maizal. That was when the economic war against the Venezuelan people was at its peak.

Exchanging goods with El Maizal was a truly enriching experience: it brought the two communes closer and helped meet the community’s needs. Chávez emphasized that communes should build real ties with each other – ties outside the capitalist market.

We created a store called “Abasto Comunal Pancha Vásquez-El Maizal,” where people from both communes could purchase our respective goods at much lower prices. The inspiration came from Chávez’s ideas but also the situation we were going through.

At that time getting cornmeal was practically impossible here, but we obtained it from El Maizal. On the other hand meat was a luxury that few could afford in Simón Planas township [El Maizal], but we made the meat from Pancha Vazquez commune available to everyone.

Our storefront in Elorza remained open through 2020. Unfortunately, the COVID pandemic hit us hard. The pandemic, combined with fuel shortages, brought down the barter project. However, we learned many valuable lessons from the initiative

More recently, about two years ago, the Communal Economic Circuits were created by the Ministry of Communes. The Circuits are an initiative to promote communal production and distribution, so we proposed that Pancha Vásquez be incorporated as a meat and cheese producer. The Ministry eventually accepted our proposal.

Yet meat and cheese distribution requires refrigeration. That’s where the Pancha Vásquez Collection and Distribution Center comes in. On our commune’s ninth anniversary in 2023, we applied for funding for a collection and distribution center from the Ministry of Communes.

Petra Cedeño: We received USD $69,000 from SAFONAPP [an institution linked to the Ministry of Communes]. One year later, on our commune’s tenth anniversary, we were able to open the Center’s doors. It’s been a lot of hard work and sacrifice, but we are really happy!

The Center has two walk-in refrigerators that are already working. We can store 3,000 kilos of cheese and 8,000 kilos of meat there. This is crucial for the producers in our commune. In this hot climate, cheese and meat can turn bad very quickly.

Additionally, we are now building a store called “Communal Abasto” that is located in the Collection and Distribution Center. Local producers will be able to purchase agricultural inputs and other basic goods at lower prices in the store. There will also be an office, a meeting room, and accommodation for visitors.

There is no doubt that the institutional funding for this project was critical. However, the project was actually realized because some communards were completely committed to making it possible.

To build this large facility, we had to be very careful with every penny and seek solidarity from our fellow communards. For instance, many of the construction materials were sold to us at cost, and the plot of land where the Center was built was given over to us by Carmen Alguilar, Juan Fernández’s mom.

Building a commune always comes with some sacrifices… but also rewards!

Objectives

Róger Rodríguez: The US blockade and economic war against our people have done real damage to our production. One major bottleneck is getting our products to market, because fuel is so scarce. Moreover, everyone knows that intermediaries are the bane of the people who work the land. They are the scrooges of today.

Now, with the Collection and Distribution Center in our commune, we can plan better and reduce our dependence on intermediaries. There is another issue that the Collection and Distribution Center will help to solve: during the rainy season, our cheese production goes up, but the price that intermediaries will pay per kilo drops dramatically. Sometimes the price goes so low that we struggle to make ends meet.

One of the benefits of the new center is that we can store cheese during the rainy season and wait for prices to rise during the dry season before selling it.

Finally, another benefit of the Collection and Distribution Center is that it will soon include an “Abasto Comunal” store where we will be able to purchase agricultural inputs at lower prices and, in some cases, exchange cheese or meat to get the inputs we need.

Juan Fernández: The key objective of the Collection and Distribution Center is to reduce our dependence on intermediaries. They come to our ranches and offer really low prices for our production, especially when fuel is scarce. Many of us are under enormous economic pressure, so we are forced to sell in unfavorable conditions.

This is not unique to our commune or even to our country; campesinos all around the world face similar exploitation from capitalists. However, in the context of a brutal blockade, small producers become even more vulnerable. That is why the new center is so important for our commune.

The storage facility will also help us build stronger links with other communes. During the rainy season, the price of cheese can drop below one dollar per kilo here, while it can rise up to four, five, or even six dollars in Caracas.

One of our plans to address this problem is to establish inter-communal exchanges with communes such as El Maizal, El Sur Existe, and El Panal. We would sell our cheese there at more affordable prices, while they could provide their own goods to our commune.

Building tangible links between communes is crucial. We participate in the Communard Union which is an extraordinary iniative bringing together some 30 communes. I think that the Union is one of places where Chávez’s legacy is most alive. Even so, if we cannot build links among the communes outside of the capitalist market, the Union won’t live up to its goals.

The most important thing about Pancha Vasquez’s new Collection and Distribution Center is that it is the commune’s first social property enterprise. The commune’s parliament, which includes spokespeople from all 14 communal councils, meets every two weeks to oversee its operation.

It is also important that the Center is becoming a meeting point for the communards here.

The Impact of the US Blockade

The impact of the sanctions has been particularly hard in this region bordering Colombia. Here, communards from the Pancha Vásquez reflect on the impact of the unilateral coercive measures.

The Origins

Juan Fernández: Joe Biden, Donald Trump, Barack Obama, and the interests that they represent imposed a blockade on our country because they wanted to punish Venezuela for attempting to build a new socialist model. They wanted to make an example of us.

However, the blockade has also happened because there is a band of traitors here in Venezuela who have no love for their country and are willing to sacrifice the Venezuelan pueblo. Fortunately, they have not succeeded, but the damage has been enormous.

This doesn’t mean that we do everything well here. Sometimes it feels like the blockade has also generated an internal blockade: some political actors here are not committed to the revolution. Addressing these issues remains a pending task.

Consequences

Sergio Calzadilla (Sergio Calzadilla is a Pancha Vásquez parliamentarian and works at El Reencuentro Milk Collection Center): The blockade has had many interrelated effects. In terms of production, we face two main problems: fuel and inputs. My best estimate is that production dropped by about half in our commune. However, that didn’t happen in this municipality alone.

I’m an agronomist by training, and I have been researching cattle production in our state. Some years ago, there were 1,865,000 cattle heads in Apure. Today there are about 800,000 heads. Poor feed quality, limited access to supplements, and loss of qualified labor due to migration have caused the herds to decline. Also, maintaining the genetic profile of the animals requires careful rearing, which is difficult under current conditions.

Another factor is that water pumps are essential for watering our herds during the dry season. The blackouts, fuel shortages, and high maintenance costs have rendered many pumps inoperative.

When we look at agricultural production in our municipality, my estimate is that it went down by about 90%. Recently, agricultural output has been picking up slowly, but we are very far from our capacity.

The primary reason for this dramatic drop is the cost of inputs. Inputs are so expensive that most campesinos cannot afford them. Additionally, global warming is also affecting production. Rising temperatures and protracted dry seasons have had tangible effects.

Fuel Shortages and Communal Solutions

Juan Fernández: Most producers will tell you that access to fuel is our main problem. We began experiencing fuel shortages around 2017. The problem was exacerbated by local mafias who hoarded and then sold gasoline at two to three dollars per liter, while the official “international” (i.e. non-subsidized) price is 50 cents.

Gasoline distribution is more stable now, with supply rationed at 40 liters twice per week at the official international price. However, getting diesel fuel is still a major issue. PDVSA distributes diesel using a rationing system based on license plate numbers, but only larger producers have the permits [permiso de mina]. The subsidized price of diesel is 18 cents per liter, which means $36 for a 200 liter drum.

However, there are black market dealers who sell diesel at $1 per liter. Ranchers need significant amounts of diesel because the distances are long here. We can’t store milk, cheese, or meat at the ranch due to the lack of cooling systems, so we take our production either to the Collection Center or the market.

We also have to get supplies to the farms on a regular basis and maintain the fields with heavy machinery. All that takes diesel fuel. Finally, we often rely on generators for electricity and pumping water… which, once again, requires diesel.

Many city folk are unaware that agricultural production is so heavily fuel-dependent, especially in Apure, where the drive from a ranch to town can take up to two hours. Without fuel, food production collapses.

Fortunately, since President Maduro’s visit to Apure in early 2024, they’ve implemented a contingency plan. The president learned that many producers here had no access to diesel fuel and it was affecting production, so he set in motion the “Fuel Saturation Plan” [Plan Saturación de Combustible].

There’s been a small hike in production since then, so we celebrate the initiative. It’s not perfect, however, since fuel transportation is done by private companies, which puts the price at 30 cents per liter and not the established 18 cents.

The last time I bought diesel at the official price was in November 2023, paying $36 for a 200 liter drum. Now, it’s $60 for the same amount. This is tough on small to mid-sized producers, but the overall situation has improved.

The plan has the communal government distributing diesel. Since we took charge the distribution, we have been scaling up our radius of action. Right now we are reaching more than 50% of the producers in the territory. That’s a great success!

Ranchers’ Voices

Petra Cedeño: The impact of the blockade is multifaceted. Agricultural production has been most directly affected, dropping an estimated 90% due to the unavailability of diesel fuel. All this is compounded by the high prices of agricultural inputs.

As a cattle rancher, diesel shortages affect my production, but we also face other problems. We produce cheese on our farm, but there was a time when rennet was really hard to get, so our production went down.

Finally, there is the social dimension of the blockade. Because of the poverty and problems of services such as electricity, many people migrated. The phenomenon began in 2017. Most people are going to nearby Colombia, but over the past few months, a growing number are trying to make their way to the US via the Darién. In the Rómulo Gallegos Municipality, at least 30 people leave monthly, sometimes up to 100.

This breaks my heart. I love this land, its culture, and its traditions, and it’s very sad to see so many people leaving… but the truth is that things aren’t easy, particularly for the youth.

This situation makes me resentful toward the US. Why are they so committed to hurting the working people of Venezuela? They say they want to promote “regime change,” but shouldn’t that be our decision?

Carmelo Ramón Barrios (Carmelo Ramón Barrios is a Pancha Vásquez parliamentarian and small-scale rancher): Every last person has been affected by the crisis. Before the blockade, I used to produce 80 to 100 liters of milk daily. Now my production is down to 40 liters.

The blockade has also brought other problems. In Caracas you use the bolívar and the US dollar. Here the main currency is the Colombian peso. We are just two hours away from the border, so when hyperinflation began to affect the bolivar, every store, every provider of agricultural inputs, and every fuel reseller began to sell in Colombian pesos.

Initially, this was very difficult for small producers. Now we’ve adapted to this “new normal,” but it’s not ideal. Venezuela should have its own robust and reliable currency!

Gerardo Ramírez: Overall, I would say that the blockade has set us back some 50 years. Is that an exaggeration? No! We went back to using donkeys because fuel is hard to get; we have two to four-hour blackouts every day; and our farm equipment is out of order, because we can’t afford to maintain it.

I used to have three working tractors and now I only have one. And I am one of the lucky ones! Many producers have given up on maintaining their farm equipment because it’s simply too expensive to do so.

Creative Solutions

Pancha Vásquez communards have found innovative ways to survive and produce under the blockade.

Ismael Dun (Ismael Dun is a Pancha Vásquez parliamentarian and small-scale rancher): The commune has been the key to our survival. I’ll give you three examples. First, before the pandemic, the exchange between El Maizal and Pancha Vásquez communes ensured our access to cornmeal and other basic goods, while we in turn provided meat and cheese to our brothers and sisters in Lara state [referring to El Maizal communards]. The exchange was a self-run initiative that solved a real problem, while helping build stronger ties between the communes.

Additionally, since early 2024, the Pancha Vásquez Commune has been a hub for diesel distribution. Finally, as we look into the future, our new Collection and Distribution Center is sure to become an asset for local producers: it will generate better conditions for the sale of our cheese and meat, and we will soon be able to purchase agricultural inputs at lower prices there. We will be greatly relieved when we are able to bypass the commercial agro-input retailers.

I think the commune is the solution to our problems. Comandante Chávez died saying “Commune or nothing!” He was right.

Roger Rodríguez: I am at a loss for words to describe the impact of the blockade. In my family farm, we dropped from 350 heads of cattle to 40. However, we fought back. We are now making our own animal feed, and we are breeding goats and sheep instead of cattle.

In all this, the commune has been of great help. If we run out of gas, gasoline, or diesel, there’s always a helping hand. I am a Christian: I value collaboration and solidarity… and that’s what the commune promotes!

Sergio Calzadilla: In Apure in general, but specifically in the Pancha Vasquez Commune, we are experiencing two important shifts in terms of production. First, agriculture is being displaced, mostly because of the high costs of inputs. It used to be that many ranchers would grow corn and other crops as supplementary food for the cattle. Not anymore.

Second, many ranchers are shifting from cows to buffalo. Buffalos are more robust and their milk is richer: you need 7 liters of cow milk per kilo of cheese, but just 4.5 liters of buffalo milk per kilo, because it has more fat and is richer in lactose.

Glenda Aguilera (Glenda Aguilera is part of the Pancha Vásquez Commune and a producer of artisanal foods): About two years ago I began to make artisanal products such as jams, milk cream, milk candy [dulce de leche], hot sauces, and so on, to sell in the communal market. This has become an important way to supplement our household income in these times of crisis.

I also keep a medicinal herb garden and I make coconut oil and noni tincture. Noni cures many maladies, from bunions to certain cancers. When it’s hard to get medicines, these alternatives are all the more important.

Sergio Calzadilla: The blockade teaches us that we have to overcome import dependency. That’s why I’m promoting a transition away from conventional agricultural inputs in the commune. Also, I am giving workshops on how to make organic fertilizer. I’m happy to say that some campesinos here are implementing these practices in their conucos [subsistence plots], but we have to go beyond that. The transition must be as ideological as it is technical.

One of my objectives is to promote the construction of a plant to transform manure into organic fertilizer on a large scale. All animal feces can be turned into bio-gas and into solid or liquid organic fertilizers.

I know that an initiative like this one would work: it would be economically viable and help overcome dependence on imported inputs.

Petra Cedeño: The Pancha Vásquez Commune has been a lifeline in the hardest times. It was the commune that guaranteed our access to cornmeal. It’s been the space where we meet to solve our problems. And it is now the place that ensures a fair distribution of diesel fuel, which is critical for production.

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Part III: Myths and Legends of the Llanos

Hugo Chavez and his socialist legacy have entered the region’s folklore.

“Espantos”

Petra Cedeño: The “espíritus de la sabana” [specters of the flatlands, also known as “espantos”] are woven into our culture and music and are part of our landscape. I saw the “Bola de Fuego” [fireball] once, but it was all very fast. When you see the fireball, you have to insult it to keep it at bay.

The stories of the espantos are deeply connected with our relationship with nature in the Llanos of Apure. We know that when the carrao [bird] sings, it’s going to rain, and if the guacharaca [bird] sings, someone will die.

Carmelo Ramón Barrios: Chávez would often talk about the “espíritus de la sabana.” He mentioned the “Silbón” [a specter that chases people with a long pole], comparing it to imperialism. He also spoke of the “Patrullero” [patroller], an enormous caimán [crocodile]. Chávez himself ran into the Patrullero when he was posted in Elorza. The story goes as follows: one day at sunset, he stepped into a boat and suddenly he heard a huge racket… he was standing on top of the Patrullero!

Then there’s “La Sayona.” She is particularly dangerous, seducing and harming men who have been partying too much. Nowadays, the espantos only appear around the marshes of the Capanaparo [not far from Elorza].

If you want to learn about the “espíritus de la sabana,” you can do so from Chávez, who often talked about them in his Aló Presidente broadcast. Also, our music often tells of encounters with espantos.

Chávez and the Communal Future

Edgard Esté (Edgar Esté is a Pancha Vásquez parliamentarian): I was only a child when Chávez was deployed in Elorza, but I remember him vividly. Chávez always wanted a local musician called “Pataruco Esplumao” to play at festivities. I was a singer back then, often accompanying the ensemble. I remember that Chávez would join in and sing. He particularly liked “Poesía, copla y sabana” [Poetry, Couplets and, Plains], a melancholic song about the Llanos.

Juan Fernández: Chávez was the commander of the Escamoto, an army battalion with its headquarters in the outskirts of Elorza [1985-88]. I was only a child, so I never met him, but I know he was loved by the locals for his charisma, for congeniality, and his efforts to improve life in Elorza. He also loved our culture and he even sang some joropo. That, of course, brought him closer to the people.

During his 2012 campaign, Chávez said he dreamed of returning to Elorza, lying in a chinchorro [hammock], and contemplating the vast plains at sunset. Then, on March 5, 2013, he passed away. That was a huge blow for me. However, though Chávez is no longer with us, his ideas continue to inspire us.

Chávez was a thinker for the future. When I talk with the commune’s youth, I always tell them: He was here [pointing the landscape] but he is still here [pointing at his heart].

Hugo Calzadilla: There are two periods in Chávez’s life: the man of flesh and bones who was born in Sabaneta [Barinas state]; then there was the visionary born in Elorza.

It was Gonzalo de Jesús, a revolutionary priest who came to Elorza from Spain in the 1950s, who accompanied Chávez through that transformation. Here Chávez learned about the injustices that the Indigenous peoples suffered and about the culture of the deep Llanos.

Chávez confided in Father Gonzalo about his plans for an insurrection he would eventually lead on February 4, 1992. Upon hearing about the plan, the priest told him: If it is for the wellbeing of the “patria” [homeland], then do it, but there should be as little bloodshed as possible.

Yubranis Fernández (Yubranis Fernández is a 14-year-old communard): I am 14 years old, so I never saw Chávez, but to me, he is alive just like Che is alive [pointing to her t-shirt with an image of Che Guevara]. My father [Juan Fernández] passed along his love of Chávez to me.

We face many problems, from the blockade to the adecos [affliiates of the Acción Democrática right-wing party], from bureaucracy to the long dry summers, but I am convinced that the commune is the only path for the pueblo.

That’s what I always tell my friends. While not all of them believe in the commune, the project is alive and kicking.

(Cira Pascual Marquina is Political Science professor at the Universidad Bolivariana de Venezuela in Caracas. Chris Gilbert teaches Marxist political economy at the Universidad Bolivariana de Venezuela. Courtesy: Venezuela Analysis, an independent website produced by individuals who are dedicated to disseminating news and analysis about the current political situation in Venezuela.)