Venezuela, Popular Power and Coffee

In a remote part of Sanare, a municipality in Northeast Venezuela, 18 communes got together to form the Indirect Social Property Company “Enriquito Colmenárez.” The name pays tribute to a local campesino leader and coffee producer who passed away in 2021.

I had the opportunity to visit this coffee-roasting plant a couple of weeks ago and talk to several of the people involved. This initiative showcases the progress that popular power can achieve, but also the obstacles to producing in this besieged and unequal Venezuela.

The plant has 16 workers and a capacity to process 100 tonnes of coffee per month. The new company was set up in November 2024 after the Ministry of Agriculture transferred it to the Sanare communes. The ministry retains a temporary administrative role until operations are fully off the ground and it can fully hand over control.

The main challenge today is to get small-scale coffee producers in the area to trust this plant once again and bring in their harvests. Past experiences left a bitter taste. The factory, which belonged to the Venezuelan Coffee Corporation and was also run by several private sector partners, had no shortage of bad management episodes that ended up hurting local campesinos.

There is a new scheme in place: a coffee producer that delivers more than 30 kilos of raw material becomes an “affiliate” and is entitled to several benefits, including regular visits from technicians, training programs from a specialized state institute, access to organic fertilizers, subsidized supplies and even motorbikes.

Furthermore, a soil study is coming soon, as part of an alliance between these communes and the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) that will install a laboratory inside the coffee-roasting factory.

The project, which is being closely followed and supported by the Ministry of Communes, looks to technify and improve the quality of production. As a result, the communards will get more insights into their coffee varieties, which often have very high ratings in terms of acidity, fruity notes and sharpness. They just don’t know it!

These advances are taking place in a climate of strong competition. There are some 420 registered ground coffee brands in Venezuela. I have had the chance to visit several “coffee fairs” in recent years and witness this huge variety of options, all of them with shiny, beautiful packages, with sales reps searching for potential export customers.

There is no shortage of hurdles, especially for small-scale producers. In recent years, there have been repeated complaints that the roasting plants, generally in the hands of major private consortia, were not adhering to established harvest prices, forcing many campesinos to sell at a loss. Another tactic has been importing coffee during harvest season to push prices down.

Fuel is another bottleneck. Sanctions have led to diesel shortages, which in turn have spawned mafias. This fuel is essential to handle coffee beans after harvesting, as it is needed for the most common drying and threshing processes.

Though some producers resort to other options, including artisanal greenhouses, African raised beds, and driers that use the very coffee shells as fuel, all of these are much more time-consuming. And, without significant investments, these methods end up raising production costs.

To ensure that this new experience in Sanare is not vulnerable to fuel mafias, there is a scheme in place that will see communes access diesel directly, bypassing local gas stations. Furthermore, the communards secured financing from the Federal Government Council [a state funding agency], which put an end to a situation that really squeezed coffee-producing campesinos.

During the harvest season, producers need, among other things, to hire laborers, but lacking the necessary funds, they end up in debt. It’s usually the future coffee buyer that ends up loaning the money, telling campesinos “you’ll pay me with the harvest once finished.” However, these loans come with 100 percent interest or even more. So, to get US $100, the small-scale producer ends up having to surrender $200 in harvested coffee, if not more. Unhinged usury…

So now, even though it’s under more favorable conditions, the Sanare communards must pay back the state loan. They must also render accounts, breaking the myth that popular power organizations cannot deal with the administrative requirements. These steps are key to securing future loans and ensuring the operation becomes sustainable in the long run.

Right now, one solution that has emerged for short-term revenues is the possibility of exporting green coffee to Italy and the United States. One communard I talked to during the visit was almost embarrassed to talk about it, because “the US is our ideological enemy.” Yes, but at the same time, the government is fighting to get Chevron’s license renewed. Why should campesinos and communards be worried about this? Plus, people in the US could use some good quality coffee to deal with all the Trump administration craziness!

Furthermore, to secure these exports, the communards needed to strike an alliance with a private company that had the necessary paperwork and contacts. It seems a bit absurd that a communal firm needs to resort to a private partner to secure permits that are issued by the Venezuelan state… But at the same time, this private sector ally also provides the know-how and guidance for the next step: exporting to Russia.

With this in mind, a complex process of selecting beans and measuring characteristics is required to meet the customer’s demands. The plan is to export robusta coffee, which has roughly twice the amount of caffeine as its arabica cousin. The revenues are potentially big, but so is uncertainty, since robusta prices fluctuate in the stock markets.

All in all, the Sanare experience has a lot of obstacles to face, but by building grassroots support and counting on institutional support, it can thrive. This is just one example that showcases the potency of an organized people who refuse to surrender. A reminder that enterprises can be in the hands of the pueblo, not just the private sector. An inspiring story, and not just for coffee lovers! The struggle continues.

Jessica Dos Santos is a Venezuelan university professor, journalist and writer whose work has appeared in outlets such as RT, Épale CCS magazine and Investig’Action. She is the author of the book “Caracas en Alpargatas” (2018). She’s won the Aníbal Nazoa Journalism Prize in 2014 and received honorable mentions in the Simón Bolívar National Journalism prize in 2016 and 2018.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelanalysis editorial staff.

Translated by Venezuelanalysis.