By: Luis Beltrán Guerra G. - 03/08/2025
On July 24th, 242 years ago, Simón Bolívar, the Liberator of Venezuela, Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia, was born in Caracas. He received the good news that God had granted him a meeting with the Venezuelan generals Antonio José de Sucre, Rafael Urdaneta, Jose Antonio Páez, José Félix Ribas, Jose María Córdova (Colombian), and Andrés de Santa Cruz (Bolivian), his closest collaborators. They had been granted permission to travel from their assigned locations. "The convener" had entered "heaven" on December 17th, 1830, directly from the Quinta San Pedro Alejandrina in Santa Marta. The event was coordinated by Popes John Paul II, who presided, Benedict XVI, and Jorge Bergoglio "Francisco."
We are gathered, Bolívar states, to analyze the reasons why: 1. We gained independence from the "Motherland," 2. To determine whether we acted rationally in such a complicated task, and 3. What reasons have prevented the goals we set for ourselves from materializing. For the liberated countries legitimized themselves as republics and, a few centuries later, were willing to embrace democracy. I have proposed to the "Lord" that I be allowed to return to those lands in order to analyze our possible mistakes and correct them.
José Antonio Páez is heard saying, “that embrace of democracy, General Bolívar, has been one of the most embarrassing, both in our history and in that of humanity itself,” to which the Liberator looks at him as if calling his attention, but he must do the same with regard to José Félix Ribas, who, assuming the position of “Firm” before his superior, explains that regarding Venezuela, “we have had 26 constitutions since 1811.” “And others will come, reason to express, admired Liberator, that the South American has been a constituent of eternal life,” the Bolivian Andrés de Santa Cruz is heard saying. Páez, however, reiterates the call to attention in his characteristic hoarse voice, “it is absolutely true, that is how it has happened.” “Don Simón” seems displeased.
John Paul II, following a sign from Benedict XVI, decided to take the lead in the event, giving the floor to Antonio Jose de Sucre, who expressed his sincere gratitude to the Liberator for having distinguished him as “the father of Ayacucho, redeemer of the children of the Sun, having defeated Francisco Pizarro González, putting an end to the political and religious order that the latter had established” for the benefit of conquering Spain. But to Bolívar's surprise, Sucre adds, "Forgive me, General Bolívar, but I too have been overcome by uncertainty regarding the consequences of the freedom we achieved. I often wonder if we were prepared to face the serious difficulties of achieving independence." The Liberator, somewhat less tense, responds, "General, you know that I always dreamed that our legacy—yes, yours, mine, and that of all those summoned to this meeting—would be synonymous with unity, justice, and emancipation for the peoples of Latin America." What has happened? I, too, wonder. We don't understand. Could it have happened, perhaps, that both we and the heirs of our feat came into the world not to govern, but rather, to be governed?" This perception stems from the weaknesses we have not overcome in managing our own destinies. I don't rule it out, my admired Marshal Sucre and Generals Páez, Ribas, and Santa Cruz, as I sensed doubts, both in the conversations I held with important figures regarding our independence, as well as during the battles to achieve it, and even in the early days of our freedom. I must admit that it wasn't ruled out, that for the sake of greater political stability and social progress, a kind of "co-government" with Spain was the most ideal. Materially, progress would be greater and a reality more in keeping with the title still assigned to the Iberian Peninsula, that is, "the motherland."
General Rafael Urdaneta, speaking as Bolívar himself granted him, although John Paul II was presiding over the meeting, for some evidence of the Liberator's unique personality, praised Urdaneta, reminding him that he was President of Gran Colombia and a distinguished soldier in the battles of Niquitao and Taguanes. The speaker expressed that it would not be serious to deny the difficulties that have befallen us, after having achieved sovereignty for our five countries. For me, this is one of the most prolific topics, first after independence and then throughout the centuries in this other world where we are gathered today. Our representations before God have received "silence" as a response, to which we sometimes think of asking His forgiveness for our audacity, since, with the annexation of the Americas, Spain would be a giant today, and we, perhaps, would have a more decisive recognition regarding our role as liberators.
John Paul II gives the floor to Jorge Mario Bergoglio, "Pope Francis," who has been requesting it for quite some time. But before beginning, Colombian General Jose María Córdova, presenting the book "History of Madness in the Classical Age" by Michael Foucault, apologizes and goes on to identify, with respect to the categorization of people who are victims of "spiritual disorder," among them, "the inveterate alleger, the most litigious man, the most cunning and deceitful, the one who spends nights and days deafening other people with his songs and horrible blasphemies, the slanderer, the great liar, and the one with a restless, depressive, and murky spirit." The aforementioned general, as if appealing to practical reason, raises the question of who we should place in the aforementioned categorizations, that is, the conquerors or those inspired by the sense of freedom, who take on the urgent task of achieving it and governing ourselves autonomously. May God grant that Pope Francis, with his gifts as a theologian and philosopher, may address this topic. Jorge Mario Bergoglio, with a certain irony, refers to "men of little faith," indeed, those unconvinced that "God is the Almighty, the Creator, the Just and Merciful, and the One Who Loves Us." We read that the disciples asked themselves, "What kind of man is this that even the winds and the sea obey him?" Believing is an authentically human act, not contrary to human intelligence or freedom. "Faith is a grace," Francis adds. In my opinion, during the War of Independence, we are certain that in the battles that were waged in pursuit of independence, not everyone approached the enemy with the conviction that God would tip the scales in favor of the just cause; a few, rather, did not know why they were fighting. With your permission, I have extracted some considerations from Javier Cercas's recent book, "El loco de Dios en el fin del mundo" (2025), referring, among other theological topics, to my views on God, the Church, faith, and humility. Regarding the latter, the way I ended my speeches: "Don't forget to pray for me." I am credited with having a very clear awareness that no one is self-sufficient; we are all weak, we are all sinners, we all need the help of others, and above all, of God. It also seems to be intuited in these pages that the Argentine Pope is not satisfied with the notion that the priest is above the faithful (clericalism). By asking people to pray for him, he is tantamount to admitting that he is, like everyone else, "a sinner." I am even equated, Jorge Mario claims, without having the merits, with John XXIII, "a Christian sitting in the chair of St. Peter." In the very interesting event to which I have been invited, the question of faith seems to be divided into two stages: one fully during the war and almost none in its aftermath. In particular, in the few political achievements,as economic and social, resulting from our governments, affected by mediocre management of "the art and science of governing"—that is, "politics."
There was no sign of fatigue at the event, despite the dryness of the topics discussed and the three long hours that passed. We hear Joseph Ratzinger, Benedict XVI, express that Simon Bolivar should be granted the right to speak. Bolivar immediately states that "he did everything during the struggle for independence and much more so that the nations liberated from Spain became true nations, that is, free, democratic, and prosperous. A struggle in two stages, one subsequent to the other. Which was more complex? Although it may surprise you, in my humble opinion, the second. And for a simple reason, the first happily ended. We became independent. The subsequent one is still ongoing, and the most worrying thing "has a long way to go." Have constitutions been useful? Our answer is negative. The philosophical, theological, literary, theoretical, adventurous, deceitful, and even emerging constituent. We South Americans have had 86 constitutions (9 in Colombia, 12 in Peru, 20 in Ecuador, 19 in Bolivia, and 26 in Venezuela). And those that are still to come.
We hear that philosophy is "a science in which doing and knowing how to use what is done coincide," which means: 1. It would be useless to possess the erudition to turn stones into gold if we didn't know how to use this precious metal, and 2. And in the same sense, a science that made us immortal would be useless if we didn't learn about immortality. In light of both conjectures, we would refer to the "philosophical constituent." The rest of the typology, worse?
A final assessment could be put forward in these terms: “The equation of doing and knowing how to use what has been done” seems to have been conspicuous by its absence.
Will Simon Bolivar be at peace in his grave?
It seems not!
The reader who, out of courtesy, helps us to decipher such complicated issues.
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