Margaret Thatcher and Hugo Chávez came from opposing ends of the political spectrum but, in a curious way, they shared a common trait: both were capable of arousing, in death as in life, great admiration and devotion, on the one hand, and deep loathing on the other. In the latter respect, reactions to their death in their respective countries make for an interesting comparison.
Mrs Thatcher’s funeral on Wednesday was a grand affair, just the type of thing at which the British excel. In the lead-up to the £10 million official funeral, however, there were serious concerns that it would be disrupted by protests against the former prime minister’s legacy and the cost to the British taxpayer. That the funeral went off without major incident was perhaps due to the many calls for respect – not so much for her political philosophy but rather for the passing of a fellow human being who left an indelible mark on history – and, at the final reckoning, a triumph of decency over hatred.
Admittedly, there were protesters along the route of the funeral cortege, most choosing to turn their backs on the parade, others booing. But they were vastly outnumbered by those who were there to honour the memory of the towering political figure who gave her name to what the Times has succinctly defined as “a straightforward defence of freedom, work, responsibility and patriotism.”
Why, though, would people bother to attend an event to which they vehemently object? Why not simply stay away? That, perhaps, is to miss one of the essential principles of democracy: if one disagrees with a policy, a politician or a system, one has the opportunity to speak out and cast a dissenting vote. Democracy is fundamentally about having a voice and a vote; to say or do nothing, to abstain from debate or an election is effectively to deny oneself the democratic right to make a difference.
In spite of this right, however, in spite of the absolute necessity to defend the right to freedom of expression, it must be said that there was something disturbing about the street parties and the burning of effigies of Mrs Thatcher in parts of northern England and Scotland, where the policies of Thatcherism are still blamed for the decimation of whole, predominantly mining communities. Why, there was even an internet campaign to get the song ‘Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead’ to the top of the British pop charts to celebrate her death. Then again, politics and freedom of expression on political matters have never really been circumscribed by anything as trivial as good taste.
Such behaviour, as surprising as it is in a supposedly mature democracy, does make the case, somewhat perversely, for the capacity of a democratic society to entertain radically opposing views and to promote debate as a step forward rather than backward. It is representative of the fact that a truly democratic system allows everyone to have a say, no matter how disagreeable or tasteless the message.
Whilst some people may still consider it debateable how much dancing on Mrs Thatcher’s grave contributes to a culture of reasoned debate on the merits or demerits of her policies and the strengthening of democracy, it is noteworthy that there was no such public celebration of joy in Venezuela at the death of that other divisive leader, Mr Chávez in March.
Now, Venezuela may not be regarded as a mature democracy in the Western European sense and it may well be that the climate of abuse and intimidation fomented by Mr Chávez ensured that few would openly celebrate the death of the charismatic populist, but the call by opposition leader Henrique Capriles for unity among Venezuelans and the extending of condolences to the president’s family and supporters was a politically mature and astute move, given the volatile political situation there.
More tellingly, Venezuelan opposition to chavismo was reflected most pointedly in last Sunday’s ballot, with Nicolás Maduro, somehow blowing the 10-point lead won by Mr Chávez in October and reflected in most pre-election polls, barely winning the presidency with 50.7 per cent of the popular vote, as opposed to 49.1 per cent for Mr Capriles.
Clearly, Venezuela is still a deeply divided nation, perilously so, one might say, with violent protests and at least seven deaths following the controversial and close election. This is not the time for dancing in the streets much less dancing on Mr Chávez’s grave; if chavismo is to survive or be rejected, let it be done via the democratic process.
