Hugo! (20 page)

By early 1992 that was a point of view shared by more than a few
Venezuelans, who while opposed to dictatorships and violence were disgusted
by the country's corrupt political establishment. Arias knew the
sentiment on the street. "The perception that we lived in a system of
injustice, of oppression, of abuse, of corruption — all of us Venezuelans
had this stuck in our heads and we wanted to break with this. So it was
very simple."

After the meeting with the air force officers ended early that morning,
Chávez drove to his house in Maracay to say good-bye to his children,
Rosa Virginia, María Gabriela, and Hugo Jr., and to his wife,
Nancy. They were all in bed. On a table he left Nancy a check and
some cash he got out of the bank. He didn't know if he would return.
Pumped with adrenaline, full of hope and fear, he was unable to sleep
and uncertain what the next crucial hours would bring — a new revolutionary
Venezuela or, perhaps, his own death. "I didn't sleep that
night, going over documents, having the kind of feeling of arriving
at the end of a chapter of my life and not knowing if another chapter
would begin, or if everything would end there. I went through a lot of
memories, looked at the kids sleeping, and finally I left."

Dressed in a T-shirt and blue jeans, he drove toward the air base
in Maracay. He stopped near the Tapa-Tapa tollbooth at about 7 A.M.
and called some of his co-conspirators. "OK, let's play ball," Chávez
said, using a prearranged code. "Yesterday we played the game we had
planned, and the score was 2-1." The code called for adding up the
score to indicate the day the rebellion would take place — February 3.
Chávez kept driving, then stopped at the Aragua Park Plaza and made
some more calls to other rebels. By 9 A.M. he was at the air base mobilizing
his troops. The men were packing parachutes, preparing uniforms,
gathering in formation.

Only a handful of officers knew the Bolivarians were preparing to
take part not in an air show, but in a coup. As for the troops, they were
completely in the dark. As Chávez has told it:

I had my battalion, they were twenty officials and more than five
hundred soldiers. Of them, only a very small group of the officials
knew what we were going to do that night. The troops didn't know
anything. I had a dilemma: I had been trained to be a leader and
I felt like if I was their leader, then I couldn't take these guys to
Caracas and ask them to risk their lives without telling them what
it was all about.

So first I called together the officials and explained the military
operation. And I told them that if any of them were not in
agreement, they could give me their pistol and lock themselves
in their rooms until I left with the battalion for Caracas and they
would be free to go home or wherever they liked. Before then,
however, I could not let them leave. One of them started crying
and said to me: "Don't think I'm a coward, but it's my wife, the
kids . . ." "It's OK, go home, but you can't leave until after I do."
And that is what he did, and afterward he submitted his resignation,
he couldn't deal with the pressure. He was the only one who
had asked to stay behind. Later I brought the soldiers together and
gave them the same pitch.

Other troops never found out they were taking part in a coup until they
were about to engage in combat to take the objectives in Caracas and elsewhere
around the country. That morning Chávez and others scrambled
to find transportation to take the troops to the capital. They found a private
bus company at the local terminal, hired thirty drivers, and told them
to show up at 8 P.M. That would give them enough time to get to Caracas
before the
hora cero
of midnight. They planned simultaneous attacks on
Miraflores, La Casona, and nearby La Carlota military air base.

Later, at about 1 P.M., Chávez went over to Los Palos air base in
another part of the city to speak with Visconti and deliver a radio for
the operation. Visconti again pleaded with Chávez to hold off on the
revolt, saying the air force wasn't ready. But Chávez insisted there was
no turning back.

The first troops to leave from Maracay were under the command
of
Major Francisco Javier Centeno. He loaded 250 soldiers into buses
and trucks that also were carrying cooking equipment and other supplies
to set up an advance camp for the air show at Carabobo Field.
Supposedly they were going to spend the night there. Instead their
secret plan called for quietly departing for Caracas later on. At about
6:30 P.M. Centeno and his men left the air base. Within half an hour
they made their way to neighboring Carabobo state and the park that
was the site of the famous battle of Carabobo led by Bolívar.

By about 7 P.M. Urdaneta and Acosta Chirinos took control of
San Jacinto barracks in Maracay. Urdaneta called Chávez, indicating
by code that their first move was a success: "The bird is in the cage."
Chávez was busy seizing the Páez barracks where his unit was located
across town. Meanwhile, outside
Caracas a commando team was preparing
to descend on the airport to seize Pérez. The plan seemed to be
progressing, although Chávez received unsettling news in code from
several barracks. Some rebels were backing out. The stakes were high.
They could lose their military careers. They could lose their lives.

"I can't make it."

"The party's today. Send me the whisky."

"No, we can't send the whisky. We couldn't get the money."

"OK, don't send me anything."

While the problems seemed surmountable, in reality the plot
already was imperiled. Hours earlier, a captain whose mission was
to take over the military academy in Caracas where he was stationed
was having last-minute doubts. Captain René Gimón álvarez had a
personal conflict. He was dating the daughter of the new director of
the military academy. Eventually he would marry her. Guilt-stricken,
late that morning he approached his future father-in-law and revealed
some details of the plot in Caracas. He did not disclose the full scope
of the nationwide operation or the identities of its leaders. But his decision
alerted the government for the first time to a concrete plan. By
early afternoon military superiors were meeting in Caracas to determine
what was happening and try to head it off. As a precaution they
ordered troops at Fort Tiuna confined to their barracks. They also disabled
tanks and other vehicles by removing ammunition, radios, and
batteries.

The "head of the snake," as Chávez called it, since Caracas was
the centerpiece of the revolt, was getting chopped off. But he and the
other coup leaders knew nothing about it. Chávez received a single
call from a collaborator in the capital, at about 4 P.M., but the informant
did not know of the leak or the move to corral the rebellion.

Blind to events unfolding in Caracas, Chávez and his men left
Maracay at about 10 P.M. in the civilian buses they rented. They departed
with the excuse they were headed to the Liberator air base across town
to prepare for the air show the next day. They divided into three columns
taking three different routes to the capital. If any of them were
stopped, they figured, the others would still make it. On at least one
bus rebels placed a Carl Gustav anti-tank gun near the front. If loyalist
troops attacked them on the way to Caracas, they would open fire.

As Chávez and his troops prepared to depart, Defense Minister
Fernando Ochoa Antich was in the air on his way from Maracaibo to
Caracas. Ochoa had spent the day in the western oil state of Zulia. The
hierarchy in Caracas did not advise him of the reports of a possible
coup. It was a mystifying decision. Ochoa later figured they might have
had several motivations. Maybe they thought they had it under control.
Maybe they didn't believe a coup attempt was really occurring. Maybe
they didn't want to upset Pérez.

Whatever the reason, Ochoa did not learn of the coup reports until
he stepped off an airplane at Simón Bolívar International Airport outside
Caracas at 8:30 P.M. He received a telephone call from a National
Guard commander, who told him rumors were flying that Pérez was
going to be the target of an attack that night. Ochoa took the information
half seriously. Coup rumors had become routine.

He got into his car to head back to Caracas. But as he reached the
first tunnel five minutes later, he found himself blocked from entering.
Inside, a car was on fire. For the first time he thought something might
be afoot. Ochoa turned around, headed back toward the airport, and
stopped at a National Guard barracks. Personally assuming command,
he ordered the soldiers to take over the airport. He also summoned
the DISIP political police for added security. Soon some four hundred
soldiers swarmed the airport, lining the landing strips, clambering on
top of roofs, occupying the control towers, standing guard at the power
plant to prevent sabotage.

As Ochoa was springing into action to safeguard the airport, Arias
Cárdenas was preparing his troops for their assault on the heart of the
nation's oil capital, Maracaibo. At about 9:30 P.M. he called thirty-five
officers into his office. Half of them already knew about the revolt and
were committed to taking part. The rest didn't know, but had been prepared
ideologically by Arias. He often talked to them and handed out
books and articles about Venezuela's infirm democracy, the historical
role of the military as defenders of
el pueblo
, and the legacy of Bolívar
and other leading fathers.

That night, "I told them this is what's happening in the country,
that we need to stop being the guard dogs for the politicians, that we
have to resolve the misery, the poverty, the abuses, and construct a real
democracy." When Arias concluded by announcing that he wanted his
unit to take part in a nationwide coup attempt in the next few hours,
every officer agreed to join in — even one of Ochoa Antich's nephews.

Arias swore them in with the oath of the Bolivarian rebels. Then he
went over the details of the operation. They planned to take over fifteen
key locations, including military bases, police stations, National Guard
headquarters, the governor's mansion, and oil installations. Arias had
ordered five days' worth of C-rations for the unit. He thought combat
might be extensive.

With his officers on board, Arias walked over to the barracks. He
ordered his seven hundred soldiers to assemble on the courtyard and
gave them a similar talk. The soldiers knew nothing about the coup
plot against Pérez. As Arias revealed the plan, they erupted into cheers.
They hated Pérez as much as anyone. The time of
el pueblo
has finally
arrived! some of them shouted. We're going to leave the misery behind!
No more humiliation! No more oppression! Some of the soldiers were
so excited, they started to cry. Others hugged. Their moment had finally
come to strike back at a system that left their own families in misery.
The outburst became so effusive Arias finally had to step in to call them
to order. Gentlemen, he said, this is a military operation. We are going
to have the celebration after we finish fulfilling the mission.

By 10 P.M. they moved out from the military base to prepare for the
attack.

Ten minutes later the presidential jet touched down in Maiquetia. It
was twenty minutes early. Favorable tailwinds sped up the trip. When
the aircraft pulled up to Ramp Number Four reserved for the head of
state, Pérez was met with an unusual sight. A dozen yellow DISIP cars surrounded
the ramp. On the tarmac, Ochoa Antich and Interior Minister
Virgilio Avila Vivas waited to greet him.

As he came down the airplane's stairs to a presidential car ready to
whisk him away, Pérez demanded to know what was going on. Ochoa
said there were rumors of an uprising. But he assured the president
everything was under control. He added that he would fill him in more
on the trip back to Caracas. He wanted to get the president out of there
as quickly as possible.

They sped off, and the rebels' Plan A was foiled. With so many soldiers
guarding the airport, the commando team was helpless. As Pérez
and the others climbed the mountain highway toward Caracas, Ochoa
supplied more details about the reports of a coup or even an assassination
attempt. Pérez wasn't alarmed or worried. He was angry. He was sick
of hearing about coup rumors. He thought they were undermining his
administration. These rumors are what damage the government, the irritated
president told Ochoa in the car. I'll wait for you at seven tomorrow
morning in Miraflores so we can investigate what is going on.

As they reached the first tunnel, one side was still blocked because of
the burning car. Soldiers stopped traffic on the other side to let the presidential
caravan by. They passed through without incident. The rebels'
Plan B had failed. Pérez's car made it through the capital city smoothly.
By 10:45 P.M. he arrived at La Casona presidential residence in eastern
Caracas. Pérez was so assured no revolt was going to take place, he went
into the colonial mansion, put on his pajamas, and went to bed.

Before long he was deeply asleep, exhausted after a three-day trip
during which the sixty-nine-year-old president barely slept. He had
little reason to rest easy, though. One of the columns from Maracay
was about to arrive.

At about 11:15 P.M. on the other side of the country, Arias Cárdenas
issued the order to attack in Maracaibo. His operation had to be moved
up half an hour or so. Authorities had detected unusual movements
of rebel tanks at a military base outside of the city earlier in the night.
Arias was worried authorities would realize that his unit, too, was preparing
to act. So he plunged into action ahead of time before they could
stop him.

Rebels stormed police stations, the National Guard headquarters,
the DISIP secret police office, the governor's mansion, and the
oil installations.
They met little resistance. The city of two million people —
home to one of the world's largest oil reserves and operations — fell
into their hands almost effortlessly. The authorities were caught so off
guard, they had almost no time to react. Barely a shot was fired. Almost
no one was injured. By midnight the rebels controlled the city.