By Zhang Cuirong
First, I’d like to sincerely thank the organizers for inviting me. I’m honored to have the opportunity to share my experiences reporting in Latin America, even though my trips took place quite a few years ago. In recent years, the resurgence of the Latin American left has once again become a focal point in international media, evoking memories of the socialist revolutions that swept through the region during the first decade of the 21st century.
Between 2006 and 2009, I traveled to Latin America multiple times for reporting. At the time, ideological debates were prevalent, but as a journalist, I was more interested in the realities on the ground. I wanted to bring the stories of Latin America—and my firsthand observations—to Chinese-speaking readers in Asia. I believed that this revolution was not only a significant historical moment for Latin America but might also offer valuable inspiration for Asia. Unfortunately, Chinese-language media—at least in Hong Kong—provided very limited coverage of these events. That’s why I packed my bags and, traveling alone, embarked on a journey that turned out to be immensely rewarding.
I traveled from Mexico through Central America before reaching South America, where I spent considerable time in Venezuela. Venezuela had been the first to raise the banner of revolution and to launch a new kind of democratic experiment—what they called participatory democracy. Most international media focused solely on the three core revolutionary countries—Venezuela, Bolivia, and Ecuador—and their leaders. But behind them stood millions of grassroots activists who had struggled for generations to realize this bottom-up participatory democratic revolution. In the early 2000s, Chávez came to power and began implementing a series of social experiments aimed at putting participatory democracy into practice.
Due to time constraints, I’ll focus on the media movement that left the deepest impression on me. I remember my first visit to Venezuela’s capital, Caracas, in 2006. On my very first day, I went to the Ministry of Communication to request an exclusive interview with President Chávez. While waiting in the lobby, I saw a poster about alternative media. It read: Participatory democracy begins with alternative media. I was puzzled—why would a government promote alternative media? Later, I learned that “alternative media” in this context referred to community media, especially grassroots initiatives aimed at giving a voice to marginalized groups that had long been invisible. One official explained to me that Venezuela’s media landscape had historically been dominated by corporate-owned outlets, leaving ordinary people with no platform to express themselves. President Chávez emphasized the importance of participatory democracy, asserting that democracy and socialism should empower ordinary people to hold their heads high and have their voices heard by the government. To achieve this, the media space needed to be expanded. The government encouraged every community to take part in media operations. But since these communities lacked resources, the government provided support—including dedicating a television channel to them. Beyond this support, the government’s role in these alternative media outlets was minimal.
I also visited Catia TV, the largest alternative TV station in Caracas—though I’m not sure if it still exists today. I heard that the station was originally housed in a dilapidated building. The government donated the space and provided filming equipment, which enabled Catia TV to quickly grow into the “big brother” of alternative media, taking on the responsibility of mentoring smaller community stations.
On the afternoon I visited, I happened to witness a group of mothers who had brought their children—just out of school—to the station to edit video footage before heading home. They had filmed clips of community events and were preparing to air them on the community TV channel. While calling out to their children not to run around, they worked on editing the footage. There were also elderly retirees present, actively participating in media efforts to represent their communities. I found this truly remarkable. One representative of the community media told me: Society is like a human body, and each community is like a cell within that body. Community media, then, is the catalyst that activates each cell and connects them. In this way, the revolution begins in the community. What I observed was that these community media outlets enjoyed a high degree of autonomy. Residents were deeply engaged and had become citizen reporters who spoke for themselves. Voices that had long gone unheard could now, through the media movement, even reach the president.
During Chávez’s presidency, there was a weekly TV program called Hello, Mr. President. Each week, the president would visit a different community across the country and speak face-to-face with local representatives. These conversations were broadcast live by community media. One thing I’d like to emphasize is that these community media outlets didn’t just focus on their own neighborhoods—they also cared much about global affairs. In this way, grassroots citizens were able to develop a broader worldview and understand local issues within a global context. On one visit to a community station, the host remembered that I had recently returned from reporting in Palestine. He immediately invited me onto his show to share what I had witnessed there. I’ll never forget their passion for public affairs and their deep empathy for other oppressed peoples. Of course, when it came to international coverage, Venezuela also had Telesur—a regional network that formed another major component of the country’s media movement. Everyone knows that media is important—but whose voices does it represent? I very much look forward to more discussion and debate on this question.
The young man in this photo is wearing a shirt with the Spanish phrase: “Is another world possible?” That was a slogan we often heard in the early 2000s. So, starting from alternative media, I began to reflect on the idea of alternative globalization. If capitalist globalization has been in retreat in recent years, then does alternative globalization deserve renewed attention—or has it, too, faded into obscurity? In recent years, we seem to hear very little about it.
After the 2008 financial crisis, the global environment changed drastically. Demand for raw materials dropped, and South American economies—heavily reliant on raw material exports—suffered sharp declines. Plans for economic transformation had barely begun and could no longer move forward. South American economies faced immense challenges. Let me add that, in addition to the media movement I discussed today, there were many other social experiments in Venezuela. Local economists told me they were aware of the risks associated with an economy overly dependent on a single sector. They had hoped to transform the economy—but by then, it was too late. All the earlier social experiments had been funded by "petro-dollars," and that was a structural vulnerability. On top of this, U.S. intervention and internal social divisions gave rise to new crises. As the second decade of the 21st century began, right-wing forces started to rise again across Latin America. When I revisited Venezuelan communities, I found that most of their projects were still supported by PDVSA (Petróleos de Venezuela). However, when oil prices fell, funding was constrained, and massive challenges followed.
In this second decade of the 21st century, right-wing forces have returned. Brazil’s so-called economic miracle has vanished, and Venezuela is teetering on the edge of national bankruptcy. International media—especially Western outlets—were quick to declare the socialist experiments of the 21st century a complete failure, portraying the revolutionaries as villains of history. For me, those years in the first decade of the 21st century—traveling to and from Latin America, including several visits to Cuba—were the most inspiring journey of my life as a reporter. The revolution at that time was grand and full of creativity. How could it all collapse overnight? There are simply too many complex factors involved, and perhaps the experimenters did not yet have enough experience to manage them effectively.
Historically, no revolution unfolds smoothly. What matters most is whether we can reflect, learn lessons, and move forward. As for the current resurgence of the Latin American left, what we should be asking is: what similarities and differences does it share with the previous wave? What new challenges does it face? Can it build upon the legacy of the earlier revolution? Some say Latin America is doomed to swing endlessly between left and right in a never-ending pendulum. That’s why I’m especially eager to hear the perspectives of my Latin American friends. Thank you!