Venezuela was less than a week away from the most important election the country has seen in a decade, one that could compel President Nicolás Maduro to at least share power with the opposition. The volunteers were among the thousands of citizen testigos — witnesses — who will try on Sunday to protect a basic tenant of democracy: a fair vote.
The job was simple: watching polling centers to ensure all rules are followed. But in a country where the authoritarian president is accused of rigging elections — disqualifying challengers, barring international observers, harassing opponents, menacing voters — their work could be essential.
And here in Vargas state, a stronghold of government support, the witnesses were taking on a significant risk. By showing their faces at their local polling places, they say, they are facing harassment and threats from their own neighbors. And in a place where many families live in government housing or depend on the state for a weekly ration of food staples, they could be risking their homes and livelihoods.
Opposition organizer Mairim Arvelo Monroy urged them to be honest about whether they could commit to taking that risk.
“Whoever has doubts must step to the side,” she said, and with a handkerchief dabbed sweat from her face. “Be clear, be firm, tell us if you can’t go, if you’re afraid. The fear is valid, and understandable.”
Venezuela’s opposition says it has recruited witnesses to monitor more than 98 percent of 30,000 of the country’s polling tables — one per candidate per table. “For the first time, we are going to be one step ahead of them,” said one organizer, who spoke on the condition of anonymity out of concern for security.
Maduro, who took power here after the death of Hugo Chávez in 2013, has presided over an economic collapse and violent repression that have driven more than 7 million people to flee the country. On Sunday, he faces the greatest challenge yet to his authoritarian rule: a unified, popular opposition running in what he has promised will be a fair election.
Polls show opposition candidate Edmundo González would win a clean vote in a landslide. But few here expect Maduro to let that happen.
“The worst scenario would be that the government steals the vote and we don’t have a way to prove it,” said one opposition politician, who also spoke on the condition of anonymity out of concern for security.
The opposition had planned to send its most experienced witnesses to the centers most vulnerable to fraud — principally, those in strongly chavista, or pro-government, areas. But last month, the government announced new rules. Witnesses are limited to monitoring their own voting centers — meaning they will be watching their own neighbors.
“They forced us to race, all over the country,” to recruit new members, Vargas organizer José Rafael Rolón Cedeño said.
This has been especially tricky in historically chavista states such as Vargas, where 10 opposition organizers have been jailed this election cycle, Rolón said. In some areas, such as one near a military university, where most locals serve in the armed forces, the opposition is resigned to simply not having witnesses. “They did that on purpose, to block us,” Arvelo said.
The government has also divided larger voting centers into smaller ones — some remote polling tables serve only 100 voters. Opposition organizers have sent teams on 5-hour motorbike rides into the mountains to knock on doors and ask — discreetly — for volunteers.
The changes have led many witnesses to back out. But one 74-year-old man in Arvelo’s audience was steadfast.
Organizers had struggled to recruit volunteers in Aciclo Requena’s housing “mission,” a dilapidated complex built by Chávez right across the street from Venezuela’s international airport. Requena and his family were given a small apartment here after they lost their home in devastating mudslides in 1999 that killed an estimated 190,000 people. In Maduro’s first election, he took 91 percent of the vote here.
Requena’s wife has hypertension, diabetes and early signs of dementia. He has no legal title to their home, he says, and fears the government could take it away. They haven’t had running water in 15 days. They live off Requena’s salary from a food company; he’s paid not in money but food staples, and then sells packets of rice and pasta to neighbors for cash.
On Sunday, he says, he is willing to risk it all. Requena expects to be his polling table’s only witness, with no substitute to fill in for him should he need a meal or bathroom break, for more than 12 hours straight.
“If I have to hold on until dawn, I will hold on,” he said. “If we’re afraid, we lose.”
He spoke with a young woman who will be the only other witness in his area. She looked nervous. Requena reached for her hand.
“We have to put up with the fight,” he told her. “The process is uncomfortable for them, but not for us. Don’t be afraid, because I’m going. I’ll be close by. We will help each other out.”
The volunteers spoke as if they were preparing for a battle.
“There are hundreds of Venezuelans joining an army of brave men, brave women, willing to defend our vote, even with our lives,” witness Francisco Valderrama said. “As I have told my wife and daughters at home, you go out, vote, you return home, but I am going to be defending our vote at the polling station until the end.”
“At 72 years old,” Inés Pinto said, “I have nothing more to lose.”
They trained on the patio of the old, apparently empty house of an opposition leader. They had planned to meet in an office building, but it had been swarmed in recent days by intelligence officers. Scrawled outside the home was “Bolivarian Fury,” the name of a Maduro plan to thwart “terrorist and coup attempts.”
Arvelo explained the steps involved in opening up, running and closing each voting center, and how to report any suspicious activity. If a witness notices, for example, someone who seems to be accompanying voters or pressuring them to vote for the government, she said, they should notify their witness captain.
“If you see something, if you see that someone bumped the voting machine, or the military removed you arbitrarily — those are electoral crimes,” she said.
A volunteer raised his hand. “The most important thing is that on Sunday,” he advised, “please, do not fall for any temptation.”
In one large government housing mission, home to thousands of families, six witnesses have pulled out. Days before the vote, campaign organizers tried to recruit a retired firefighter and paramedic. The man, who spoke on the condition that he be identified only as Alex, agreed to sign up. But he was still weighing his concerns.
The former public servant, a father of two, now fishes for a living. From his small home, he can see a mural of Chávez, the president for whom he once voted.
On the one hand, he feared he might lose the little he has managed to hold on to, simply for supporting a fair vote.
“For me, there are other risks,” he said. “The risk that Venezuela doesn’t change.”
It was a gamble for democracy. Days before the election, he decided he wasn’t willing to take it.
