When Hugo Chvez anointed Nicols Maduro to succeed him as Venezuelas president, few realised that he would become Latin Americas Robert Mugabe.
After all, Maduro had a reputation as a conciliator. He was physically imposing a big, burly man but not charismatic and not known for ambition. The former bus driver had limited formal education and gave the impression of rising through the revolutions ranks head of the national assembly, foreign minister, deputy president at Chvezs behest.
Though raised a Roman Catholic, he was a follower of the late Indian spiritual guru Sai Baba and told the Guardian in 2014 he was a bit of a hippy with a penchant for John Lennon and Led Zeppelin. Our side is peace, love and tolerance, he said.
Three years on, that sounds Orwellian. Venezuela is a basket case and Maduro, 54, is on his way to dictatorship. The government has banned protests and mobilised 370,000 troops in advance of todays vote that opposition leaders say will mark an end to democracy. It comes after four months of street protests and violent repression that have left more than 100 dead, thousands in jail and the country in chaos.
Last week, the airlines Delta and Avianca suspended flights in and out of Venezuela, citing luggage theft and irregular fuel quality, among other reasons. The US state department ordered relatives of embassy employees to leave after Washington imposed new sanctions on Venezuelan officials. Colombia is bracing for an accelerated influx of Venezuelans fleeing hunger and desperation.
The country is reeling from power cuts, hyper-inflation, rampant crime and shortages of food, medicine and other basic goods. With foreign reserves evaporating, Venezuela may default on billions of dollars of debt payments. All this in a country with bigger oil reserves than Saudi Arabia.
Instead of trying to negotiate a truce with the opposition or flee, Maduro has doubled down in Miraflores, the presidential palace in Caracas, and cast this as an existential moment.
We have no other option between winning and dying, he told a rally outside the palace walls last week. The oligarchies of the world have reacted because they fear a new Venezuelan constitution. Who do we obey? In Venezuela, the people govern.
Observers warn that the country teeters on the edge. The crisis has been brewing for years but the immediate flashpoint is Maduros decision to hold an election today for a constituent assembly that will have the power to rewrite the constitution and dissolve state institutions.
The opposition has called a general strike and fresh street demonstrations in protest. Maduro responded by mobilising troops and banning public protests, with jail terms of up to 10 years for those who disobey.
The crackdown lays the groundwork for a new wave of mass human rights violations, said Amnesty International. It set the stage to perpetuate Maduro in power, said Human Rights Watch. Most likely, its the key to a long-lasting dictatorship that must be stopped before its too late.
Venezuela, once South Americas wealthiest, model democracy, is emulating Zimbabwe. How has it come to this? In person, Maduro can be affable, even charming. The son of a union leader, he began his political career as president of the student union at Jos Avalos high school in El Valle, a working-class neighbourhood on the outskirts of Caracas. He is remembered as a flexible, pacifying figure who liked to negotiate.
And the movement he heads chvismo was once a beacon for the worlds left, a socialist revolution that won elections, empowered the poor and challenged US hegemony in Latin America. It was the red foam of the pink wave that took power in Argentina, Brazil, Bolivia, Ecuador and Nicaragua. Jeremy Corybn and Oliver Stone, among others, paid homage.
Few pilgrims do the solidarity tour these days. In leftist circles, Maduro is seen, at best, as an embarrassment the heir who screwed up Chvezs legacy.
In reality, Venezuelas ruin is rooted in Chvezs rule, a 14-year melodrama of populist thunder, marathon speeches, televised stunts, creeping authoritarianism and bungled economic policies that ended with the comandantes death from cancer in 2013. Chvez bequeathed grave problems and Maduro made them worse. Historians will long debate which man bears more responsibility for the unfolding agony.
After leaving school without a diploma, Maduro reportedly considered joining a rock band before a studying stint in Cuba. Back home, he joined Venezuelas Socialist League and drove a bus for the Caracas Metro company. He became a union negotiator and, in the early 1990s, a member of the MBR-200, the civilian wing of Chvezs insurrectional military movement.
Chvez, a former tank commander, was in jail for a 1992 coup attempt. Maduro met and married Cilia Flores, part of Chvezs legal team. When Chvez won the 1998 election, the duo became a power couple, Maduro rising to head the national assembly, Flores becoming attorney general.
In 2006, Chvez appointed him as foreign minister, a role he performed dutifully for six years, breaking and mending relations with Bogot, assailing Washington, wooing Tehran, briefing Havana.
Western ambassadors found him to be polite, stolid and rather dull. Chvez at times teased and patronised him. Look at Nicols there, handsome in his suit, not driving a bus anymore, he said, as reporters looked on. But the president trusted him.
As Chvezs cancer worsened, he named Maduro his deputy and heir. My firm opinion, as clear as the full moon irrevocable, absolute, total is that you elect Nicols Maduro as president, he said in a dramatic, final speech in December 2012. Some wonder whether Maduro really wanted the crown. Either way, he accepted it. Venezuela swiftly discovered a newly garrulous, combative and folkloric Maduro. He claimed Chvezs spirit visited him in the form of a little bird.
He won a disputed election in 2013, but the slender margin shook the revolution millions of supporters abstained in protest at economic woes. Two years later, the opposition swept national assembly elections.