The Burden of Freedom

Individual freedom is imperiled throughout the world, but some places are worse than others. For some people, tyranny is a daily threat, and freedom is a matter of survival.

The following is taken from an interview with one such person trying to escape one such place.

“In three days, police started to kill everyone on the street … you lose all your rights,” Fernando recalls of the turmoil that engulfed his hometown in 1989. After decades of heavy state intervention, President Carlos Andrés Pérez, who was elected on promises to oppose liberalization, capitulated to IMF demands. He liberalized prices and began privatizing state-owned companies.

A sudden partial rollback of an unsustainable statist system produced painful price spikes. Instead of realizing that the previous model was the problem, the public doubled down and demanded even more state control and “protection.” On February 27, 1989, protests broke out in reaction to a hike in bus fares. The Caracazo protests spread from Guarenas, Fernando’s hometown, to Caracas and the whole country.

Within days, police and military forces violently cracked down on the protests. Estimates range from 300 to 3,000 deaths. Fernando remembers 6,000.

A curfew was imposed. Fifteen-year-old Fernando went out to protest anyway. After police beat him badly with batons, he “took [his] losses” and stayed put.

And then I realized during that time, this is not good. This is gonna crash. This is the end. That’s when I took the decision to leave the country, in ’89.

Growing Up Fast in a Failing State

Several years earlier, Fernando Guerra got his first taste of freedom—not to do whatever he wished, but to do what he had to do to survive. His father was absent. His mother was working long hours. Together with his older brother, he took care of his younger sister. At an age when most children worry about toys and homework, he was forced to be more mature than many in their thirties.

He soon grew disillusioned with school and quit, taking work as a shoe shiner and mechanic. “When I was ten or eleven, I was making money for myself,” he recalls.

The people around him were not amused. “All my friends and family were telling me, ‘If you don’t go to school, you’re gonna… lose a big opportunity. If you don’t go to church, you’re not going to heaven.’”

Fernando was afraid, as anyone would be in such a situation. But at the same time, he was learning that he could improve his circumstances through hard work and solving problems with his hands. For Fernando, staying in school to follow the usual path and conform to society’s norms was not an option.

Fernando grew up in a country in decline. Measured in GDP per capita, Venezuela had been the fourth-richest country on the planet in 1950. It had a positive migration rate and, until 1977, was the wealthiest nation in Latin America. Fernando remembers befriending Italian and Portuguese classmates whose families came to Venezuela seeking prosperity.

Then things changed. After decades of hovering around zero, the migration rate turned negative around 1990. Inflation ballooned. Although a mid- to high-double-digit inflation rate doesn’t look so bad compared to 2018’s 63,000 percent, it was still an unpleasant situation to live through.

We started as middle class, but we went very fast down, really down. Not only us, everyone around us became also kind of poor middle class. Because of that, the safety disappeared. People were getting killed.

“One of my friends got shot in front of my house. He was 13 years old,” Fernando said, recounting a horror story in the life of his younger self.

Choosing the Right Path

In ’89, I made the decision. I started putting things in motion and arranging everything. I had no money, of course, so I started saving. I was working really hard.

While Fernando was working towards his escape, however, many other Venezuelans were turning to crime.

During that time—’91, ’92—I got robbed once. They almost killed me. Then the second time, they almost killed me again. And the robber is on the street—on the street. You’re really unsafe. People were getting killed for nothing. Your life was nothing. You were getting killed on the street—easy, really easy.

These were not career criminals—they were people trying to survive. Instead of working towards building a proper life elsewhere, however, they chose the easy way.

For decades, Venezuelans have faced terrible choices: Crime. Starvation. Risking it all to reach a foreign country, only to be rejected and sent back to a crumbling homeland. These are options no one should ever have to face.

At one point, Fernando contemplated taking revenge, but he stopped himself. “I said, no, I’m not doing it because I already had a ticket.” Though he had been victimized, Fernando refused to let desperation and anger drag him into Venezuela’s violent morass. Instead, he took the peaceful route: exit.

Escape to an Unknown Land

“Arrang[ing] everything” was not an easy task for a teenager. His initial application for a US visa was rejected. Europe was Plan B.

“Europe for me was Italy, France, Portugal, Germany… I was completely ignorant.” Fernando got his passport and prepared to leave. Again, the people around him were not amused. His “friends” threatened to destroy his passport. “You’re gonna get killed there, man.” Just as it had when he left school, his decision to leave home led to a “big fight” with his mother.

Fernando had settled on Amsterdam as a destination. It was a country about which he knew very little, however, and while the people around him were generally well-intentioned, they were not able to provide much more accurate information.

We tend to forget today how difficult it was to learn about a foreign country before smartphones and widespread internet access. Back then, people had to rely on local stereotypes and word-of-mouth from acquaintances.

“Amsterdam was kind of a no-go area because of prostitution and drugs.” Fernando himself didn’t know much beyond Amsterdam being in Europe. The journey was a step into the unknown.

When I took the decision to move to Amsterdam, that was not easy. I was scared, but I did it because I already knew that people don’t know shit. People don’t know shit. They are just talking and there was no internet, no telephone, no nothing.

By early 1993, Venezuela had undergone two failed coup attempts, a recession, and an impeachment. With a banking crisis looming, the writing was on the wall: the economy and the old political order were collapsing. It was time to go. Despite strong resistance from those around him, Fernando decided to flee Venezuela before things got any worse.

In 1993, 20-year-old Fernando boarded a plane to Amsterdam. It had taken him years of working odd jobs to save up enough for a flight. He did not speak the language. There was no job or family waiting for him there. He had taken a leap of faith in search of freedom.

I was afraid, but I was strong enough to say, ‘Okay, I will do it.’ I was really scared, but I said ‘I will do it.’

Reflections

Shouldering the Burden

Proceeding through life with the attitude that “If you want something, you make it happen,” Fernando took on the responsibilities of freedom and continues to do so. Growing up, he learned that he could not turn to politicians if something didn’t go his way, but had to take action himself. Faced with poverty and a missing father, he chose work and initiative instead of demanding welfare payments.

When government services failed Fernando’s family, the free market provided refuge. In a free market (or a black market), people will pay you if you can provide a service that they value. “Besides the corruption, there was a free market… You could do anything, make anything, sell anything.”

Voting with One’s Feet

After years of regulatory capture and economic mismanagement, once-prosperous Venezuela began to collapse. Rather than changing course, Venezuelan officials doubled down on their failed policies and, like so many other socialists before, blamed people and markets for their failures. Next stop: martial law and shooting their own citizens.

Unfortunately, this sort of mismanagement is not limited to socialist countries. The same impulse toward coercion and resource misallocation occurs in modern mixed economies too. South Korea is a recent example.

When things get bad in a country—as they did in Venezuela and as they can anywhere—one is left with three options: speak up, remain silent, or leave (a.k.a. exit).

For Fernando, freedom was worth all the risks. His leap of faith exemplifies the principle of exit. If your situation becomes oppressive, you can attempt to find freedom elsewhere. You can vote with your feet.

A free civilization depends on the individual morality of its members. Fernando stayed true to his principles and did not turn to looting or violence; instead, he found the courage to leave. He withdrew his implied consent to the “social contract.”

An Ongoing Journey

When he came to the crossroads, Fernando chose living as an individual over social conformity. He understood an essential truism: just because “everyone says so” doesn’t make it right. Official advice isn’t always the best path, especially when politics are involved. The lessons he learned—leaving school at eleven and defying the warnings and threats of those around him—continue to shape Fernando’s life.

The first part of his story is a testament to hope and bravery; his life philosophy encompasses many principles of liberty. But his story doesn’t end there. After years of living in the “Venice of the North,” Fernando noticed things heading in the wrong direction there too.
Once again, Fernando would soon make a choice that few around him understood. After living in Amsterdam for well over two decades, he took another brave step towards freedom.

And that will be the subject of our next installment: Fleeing Tyranny, Again.