There is every reason to expect that the conditions pressuring Venezuelans to leave will get much worse before they get any better.
After years
of mostly steady economic growth and largely moderating politics in much of
Latin America, the past year brought a spate of unexpected difficulties to the
region, from severe political crises triggered by corruption scandals, to
economic disruptions from the collapse of commodity prices. The troubles, as I’ve noted, will be key to the many pivotal
elections this year. And now, there’s another major challenge for the
governments and people of the region: a huge outflow of refugees and migrants
from Venezuela.
Venezuela’s worsening political and economic crises have triggered a wave of
mass migration that looks set to grow. The potential magnitude could easily
rival what the Middle East has experienced from the conflict in Syria, a
country that, on the eve of its civil war, had 10 million fewer people than
Venezuela.
While Venezuelans do not face bombardment or full-blown war, living conditions
are becoming increasingly untenable. Economic mismanagement has triggered
abject poverty that now engulfs the
overwhelming majority of
the population, creating ever-deepening misery, with severe shortages of food,
medicines and other staples. Political violence, meanwhile, is increasing, with
street crime spiraling out
of control.
Nobody knows how many Venezuelans have already left their country. Estimates
range from 1 million to 4 million people. The prospects for a rapid
acceleration of departures from Venezuela, which has a population of more than
30 million, creates a
delicate challenge for
neighboring governments. Abrupt changes in the makeup of communities can cause
social strife and economic stress, and become a tempting target for
exploitation by politicians and assorted demagogues.
For now, most Venezuelans have not faced significant pushback from local
populations in host countries. Although there have been scattered
anti-Venezuelan incidents, most people seem saddened rather than angered by the
plight of the new arrivals. That is especially true in neighboring Colombia,
Venezuelans’ principal destination. After all, Colombians themselves emigrated
by the millions during the height of narcotraffickers’ violence in the 1980s
and 1990s.
In the United States, the growing presence of Venezuelans is already noticeable
in a number of cities. Last year, Venezuelans became the largest group of
asylum-seekers in the United States. But it is in Latin America where the
impact of the migration, and the implications, are the greatest.
Venezuelans are scattering across the region. Last month, four Venezuelans
drowned trying to reach nearby Curacao, in the Caribbean. Hundreds of thousands
of Venezuelans have already reached Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Brazil, Argentina
and other countries.
Colombia, which holds elections in March and May, is straining to deal with the
swelling tide of arrivals, aware that the situation will likely get much worse.
The numbers are climbing at a vulnerable time in the country, with crucial
elections approaching and a peace deal with FARC guerrillas facing new
headwinds.
Because everyone in Colombia could see the slow-motion disaster unfolding next
door, the government made preparations, which it is starting to put in place.
Colombian officials have even traveled to Turkey to learn from its experience
hosting millions of Syrian refugees.
Earlier this month, President Juan Manuel Santos announced a
new set of measures to
deal with the wave of people from Venezuela. Colombia is now issuing temporary
border crossing cards that
allow for easy passage. About 1.5 million Venezuelans have already used the
card, which permits them to stay in Colombia for a short time to shop, see a
doctor and even do menial jobs without having to hide from authorities.
For now,
much of the flow is a tide that washes in and out. Officials call it “pendular
migration.” Every day, according to Colombian officials, 37,000 people move
across the official border crossings. Unknown numbers enter unofficially over
the 1,378-mile-long border. About 35,000 return home daily. Officials say
600,000 Venezuelans are living in Colombia. Others say the number is much
higher.
Elsewhere, the once-quiet Rumichaca Bridge connecting Colombia and Ecuador now
has perennially long lines. More than 3,000 people cross every day, almost all
of them Venezuelans. The government says 350,000 Venezuelans entered
Ecuador through
legal entry points last year, and almost 280,000 left. Three-quarters of that
group went through Huaquillas, on the border with Peru. From Peru, people
continue south toward Chile and Argentina. And those are just the land
crossings starting from Colombia.
Months ago, U.N. officials estimated conservatively that 20,000 Venezuelans
were living on the tiny island of Aruba just off Venezuela’s coast, and another
40,000 were in Trinidad and Tobago. Thousands of others are scattered
across the Caribbean.
Tens of thousands more Venezuelans are walking the arduous path directly into
Brazil through the jungle. That has led to a near-emergency in the city of Boa
Vista, the capital of the Brazilian border state of Roraima. Local officials
say Venezuelans already amount to 10 percent of the population. Shelters are
full, and the social services budget is empty.
With Brazil deep in its own political crisis and having barely recovered from
an economic collapse, the flow of Venezuelan refugees and migrants is uniquely
perilous. In one isolated but nonetheless ominous incident, a man in Boa Vista
was arrested after he set fire to a house where Venezuelans were living.
President Michel Temer, who is barely holding on to power in the face of
single-digit approval ratings and mounting corruption allegations, traveled to
Boa Vista and promised to provide financial assistance and perhaps consider relocating
the refugees to other parts of the country. The government is deploying more
troops to the
border.
Considering the situation in Venezuela, there is every reason to expect that
the conditions pressuring people to leave will get much worse before they get
any better. President Nicolas Maduro’s government has vanishingly small amounts
of hard currency. His priority is political survival, and that means using the
funds to support the military and his most loyal supporters. Money for food
supplies and medicine will remain increasingly scarce. Maduro is likely to
funnel what little resources there are to his own supporters, while depriving
regions where the opposition is strongest.
A mass exodus from opposition strongholds would relieve some of the pressure on
the regime. That means that Latin America, but especially Colombia, will
experience greater numbers of refugee and migrant inflows.
The political impact of this flight from Venezuela is lessened by Colombians’
own experience. Millions of them left the country decades ago, many traveling
to Venezuela, attracted by its prosperity and apparent stability. With the
tables turned, many Colombians feel a duty of hospitality toward their former
hosts.
Still, tempers occasionally run short. Protests broke out in the city of Cucuta
on the Venezuelan border last month, with parents complaining their children
couldn’t use the parks and sports fields now crowded with Venezuelans.
Like all major humanitarian challenges, this one has political ramifications,
too. An unforeseen event could suddenly turn the influx of Venezuelans into a
major issue in Colombia’s presidential election this May. And if domestic
concerns build there and in other host countries, it will add pressure on
governments to respond more forcefully to the crisis in Venezuela, unleashing
an entire new slew of geopolitical scenarios.
***Frida Ghitis is an independent commentator on world affairs and a World
Politics Review contributing editor. Her weekly WPR column, World Citizen, appears every Thursday. Follow her
on Twitter at @fridaghitis.