Part II - The Demand Side

3 The Formation of Charismatic Attachments

This chapter examines the process through which charismatic attachments between leaders and followers develop in the first place. The process deserves careful investigation because it influences how charismatic leaders establish a loyal following and consolidate paradigm-shifting political movements. Moreover, it lays the foundation for the trajectories of charismatic movements after the deaths of their founders. As I will demonstrate, the factors involved in the creation of charismatic attachments undermine the mechanisms required for the depersonalization of those bonds while setting up the possibility for their reactivation in personalistic form.

This chapter focuses on analyzing Venezuela due to the relatively recent emergence of Chavismo. Whereas Perón first governed Argentina over sixty years ago, from 1946 until 1955, Chávez ruled Venezuela from 1999 until 2013, just seven years before the time of writing. I leverage the contemporary nature of Chavismo to investigate firsthand the conditions under which charismatic attachments form and to illustrate the mechanisms at work. This analysis provides two key advantages over existing studies, which tend to examine the charismatic bonds in a strictly theoretical or historical context (e.g., Eatwell 2006; Eisenstadt 1968; Jowitt 1992; Madsen and Snow 1991; Pappas 2012; Weber 1922/1978). First, it reveals fresh insights from a diverse range of voters and elites tied to the regime who remember their personal experiences during the founder’s rule. Second, it provides access to relevant, high-quality public opinion data as well as ample primary sources from the period under examination, which are crucial for discerning between the relative influence of programmatic, organizational, and personalistic influences on citizens’ relationship to the founder and his movement.

The chapter begins with a review of the three characteristics involved in the cultivation of deep, unmediated, and emotional ties between charismatic leaders and their followers. I then illustrate how Chávez took advantage of contextual circumstances and his own alluring traits to fulfill these conditions and establish powerful, resilient bonds with his supporters. Next, I contrast the charismatic mechanism of attachment with programmatic and organizational mechanisms, indicating how the former overpowered the latter two to shape citizens’ attachments to Chavismo. To carry out this analysis, I rely on secondary research as well as information from elite interviews, direct observation, and archival research that I conducted during a total of four months of fieldwork in Caracas, Venezuela, in 2014 and 2015.

I complement this qualitative examination with a quantitative analysis of the competing factors involved in citizens’ attachments to the movement. Using an important survey conducted by the Latin American Public Opinion Project (LAPOP) in 2007, at the height of Chávez’s rule, I demonstrate the overwhelming influence of personalistic rather than programmatic or organizational factors on citizens’ ties to the movement. Building on these findings, Chapter 4 uses evidence from focus groups I conducted with followers to assess how their charismatic attachments develop into a resilient identity rather than transform into routinized political linkages. This analysis sheds light on why many remain loyal to the movement after the death of the founder.

3.1 Establishing Charismatic Attachments

How do leaders foster direct, deeply affective attachments with voters to generate loyalty to their movements? As outlined in the previous chapter, I argue that leaders achieve this by fulfilling three conditions. For each condition, contextual factors interact with subjective leader traits to shape citizens’ attraction to the leader and cultivate fervent ties to his movement. While citizens’ initial attraction to the leader helps form these ties, I argue that it is the latter outcome – the process of bonding with the leader’s movement – that is especially important for shaping the trajectory of the movement and its impact on democratic development.

To begin, I argue that the leader must reach out directly to citizens who feel that mainstream society has forgotten them. Due to feelings of suffering and perceived exclusion, these individuals become convinced that the political establishment has no interest in them. Thus, they look for a distinct and impressive political outsider who recognizes their misfortune and appears willing and able to address their long-neglected needs (Madsen and Snow 1991, 12–15). A crisis that causes disproportionate misery often accentuates these citizens’ thirst for a savior; a cunning leader, in turn, can take advantage of this opportunity to portray himself as the hero that people crave (Weyland 2003, 843).

Importantly, to cultivate charismatic attachments, the leader does not only recognize and promise to resolve the people’s suffering. Rather, he must fulfill a second condition: He must demonstrate his ability to resolve their misery and defend them against the “evil” forces blamed for their distress. To do so, the leader enacts bold policies that quickly produce tangible, impressive results (Pappas 2012, 4–5; Weber 1922/1978, 242). Whereas direct recognition provides marginalized citizens with hope for a more dignified life, the leader’s daring performance convinces them that he is capable of delivering on this promise. Importantly, the perception of the leader’s performance as “miraculous” exceeds the positive outcome that would result from voters’ rational performance evaluations; instead, the leader’s performance produces an emotionally intense and unquestioning devotion in the followers that endures even after the leader’s performance declines.

Finally, the leader cements his charismatic image and consolidates a loyal following by crafting a narrative that reinforces his superhuman power, intrepid quest to vanquish the people’s enemies, and commitment to transforming society. To ensure that the narrative resonates with his followers, the leader ties it to relevant cultural figures and symbols with whom his followers already identify (Willner and Willner 1965, 82). Likewise, the leader associates his opponents with familiar, epic foes. By integrating these commonly understood prototypes of good and evil, his narrative reframes well-known historical events “within a salvation framework” that reinforces the legendary character of his leadership (Smith 2000, 103–4). To ensure widespread dissemination of the narrative, the leader infuses public spaces with the movement’s symbols and emphasizes key components of the narrative via frequent, unmediated interactions with his followers (Plotkin 2002, 24; Zúquete 2008, 93–103). Together, these actions shape the leader’s capacity to establish direct, profoundly emotional connections with his followers.

3.2 Charismatic Attachments in Chávez’s Venezuela

Hugo Chávez’s meteoric rise to power and his fourteen-year rule over Venezuela clearly illustrate the process through which leaders exert charisma to form steadfast attachments and establish powerful movements. Chávez made his political debut in the early 1990s as a military officer amid the collapse of Venezuela’s Punto Fijo (PF) regime. The regime, which was born out of a 1958 political pact between two major, centrist political parties that sought to secure democratization, achieved uniquely high levels of political stability and economic growth compared to its Latin American neighbors for several decades (Smilde 2011, 4; Weyland 2003, 826).¹ However, when the country faced a protracted economic downturn starting in the 1980s, establishment politicians from the two main parties undermined their own legitimacy in several ways. First, they enacted a series of deeply unpopular and ultimately ineffective economic reforms in an attempt to address the worsening crisis, causing citizens prolonged suffering (Weyland 2003, 826–27). Second, while ideologically distinct in name, the two parties became virtually indistinguishable due to their shared commitment to a neoliberal approach (Morgan 2007, 83–84). Third, as establishment politicians clung to power, massive corruption scandals implicating both parties surfaced, proving to citizens that writ large the system no longer represented their interests (Seawright 2012, 90).

In February 1992, during this party-system breakdown, Chávez led a clandestine group of officers called the Revolutionary Bolivarian Movement-200 (MBR-200) in an attempted coup against President Carlos Andrés Pérez (Smilde 2011, 487). Although the coup failed and Chávez served the next two years in prison, his defeat earned him national notoriety as an honorable young man determined to rescue Venezuelans from the grips of the selfish “partyarchy” (Coppedge 1997). By 1998, another failed round of neoliberal policies enacted by President Rafael Caldera sealed the fate of the PF regime. Out of its ashes, Chávez – who promised a radical departure from the outgoing regime’s corruption and incompetence – took the country by storm, winning the presidential election with 56 percent of the vote (Weyland 2003, 828).

3.2.1 Direct Recognition of Marginalized Citizens

Over the course of his rise and rule, Chávez exerted all three of the above-described components of charisma, resulting in the formation of steadfast bonds with millions of Venezuelans. First, he directly recognized and politically incorporated masses of impoverished citizens who had suffered terribly during the 1980s and 1990s, during which Venezuela experienced a sustained economic decline and the PF regime disintegrated (Lupu 2014; Maingon 2004; Mainwaring 2014; Morgan 2011; Seawright 2012; Weyland 2003). Specifically, in the years leading up to his first presidential candidacy in 1998, Chávez recognized that Venezuelans’ widespread feelings of exclusion and suffering presented an important opportunity. Unlike politicians from across the ideological spectrum who came to support the PF regime’s widely unpopular neoliberal policies, Chávez publicly empathized with the people’s intense frustration and misery – as demonstrated through his attempted coup in 1992 (Roberts 2013, 1434–40). As a result, poor citizens came to see Chávez as the only leader capable of understanding and resolving their suffering. A Chavista activist illustrated this sentiment in an interview with the author. Unlike politicians from the PF regime who remained preoccupied with their “elite intellectualism … Chávez made the poor and invisible people visible.”² Similarly, a prominent opposition politician stated that Chávez’s open recognition of people’s feelings of suffering and marginalization resonated deeply with them. The politician said, “Chávez understood the people’s accumulated frustration. The people didn’t feel valued [by other politicians]; Chávez made them feel recognized.”³

Throughout his presidency, Chávez publicly acknowledged his followers’ suffering and reinforced his role as their savior. A speech he gave on January 10, 2003, illustrates how he claimed personal responsibility for poor and excluded groups:

Make no mistake about Hugo Chávez … in accordance with the Constitution of the Republic and my powers as Chief of State and my responsibilities as President of the Republic, I cannot permit that people die of hunger; I cannot permit that children die because there isn’t medicine or there isn’t milk; I cannot permit that the people drown of hunger and death. Above all things it is my responsibility in front of God and the flag to defend the Venezuelan people, above all things and as dictated by the Bolivarian Constitution!

(Chávez 2003c)

By promising to single-handedly protect his people from hunger, disease, and death – maladies they suffered at the hand of his predecessors – Chávez illustrated how he sought to personally acknowledge and incorporate excluded sectors of the population into the center of political life. This recognition proved tremendously successful in laying the foundation for many poor citizens’ devotion to Chávez. Indeed, it consolidated their “powerful belief in the ability of the leader to provide transcendence and moral-political renewal” (Hawkins, Rosas, and Johnson 2011, 187).

3.2.2 Approbation of Heroic Powers through Bold Reforms

To substantiate his claim to rescue the people from their misery, Chávez implemented a series of daring reforms that promised to sweep away the malevolent “political class” and bring peace and prosperity to the masses. He established what would become the cornerstone for all of these ambitious reforms – a new, hyperpresidential constitution that granted him hegemonic control over politics – immediately after assuming the presidency (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 19–20; Ellner 2011, 435; Stoyan 2020, 99–100). During his 1998 presidential campaign, Chávez vowed to enact this constitution to break away from the corrupt PF regime, personally restore and protect Venezuelans’ socioeconomic rights, and enhance their direct participation in politics. After his victory, in his February 1999 inaugural speech, the new president declared what would become a celebrated refrain among his followers: “I swear before God, before the Country, before my people that over this moribund Constitution, I will enact the democratic transformations necessary for the Republic to have a Magna Carta that fits with the new times. I swear” (Chávez 1999). On December 15, 1999, the referendum on the new constitution passed with 72 percent support.

The swiftness and thoroughness with which Chávez oversaw the construction of a new, far-reaching, and overwhelmingly popular constitution made him appear truly heroic in the eyes of his supporters. Several prior leaders, including Jaime Lusinchi (1984–89) and Rafael Caldera (1994–99), who had promised similar constitutional reforms, had failed to follow through (López Maya and Lander 2011, 58). In contrast, Chávez made good on his vow by installing a new and transformative Magna Carta immediately after assuming office. This act – which, among other things, renamed Venezuela “The Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela” – confirmed Chávez’s position in the eyes of his marginalized followers as their liberator and the symbolic reincarnation of national independence hero Simón Bolívar (López Maya and Lander 2000, 8–10).

The new constitution outlined a series of ambitious and unprecedented objectives, further demonstrating Chávez’s extraordinary capacities to provide the suffering followers with material prosperity and spiritual transcendence (Hawkins 2010, 35; Stoyan 2020, 105). For instance, in addition to representative democratic institutions, it created new participatory institutions, including electoral and civil branches to be overseen by the National Electoral Council and the Defender of the People, respectively. The constitution also moved beyond basic political and civil rights to proclaim economic and social inclusion for all citizens. To achieve this vision of inclusion and equality, Chávez endeavored not only to redistribute wealth, but also to fundamentally transform society – to “reestablish the human condition” (López Maya and Lander 2011, 63). By ratifying his new constitution in the first year of his presidency, Chávez boldly signaled his intention to fundamentally transform Venezuela – a proposition that the poor masses embraced with fervor.

Inspired by the success of his new constitution, Chávez implemented several programs that achieved impressive initial results and thus further demonstrated his extraordinary capacities to his supporters. For example, starting in November 2001, he enacted an unprecedented program of land reform through the Law of Land and Agricultural Development and Decree 1.666. This program established a series of Rural and Urban Land Committees through which poor citizens could “exercise their right of property” and thus achieve socioeconomic inclusion, as envisioned by the new constitution (López Maya and Lander 2011, 65). By 2005, 6,000 Urban Land Committees incorporating nearly one quarter of poor Venezuelans had been established (ibid., 66).

Despite the early success of the new constitution and the policies it inspired, however, several problems emerged that went unaddressed. Consequently, the striking initial impact of these reforms began to deteriorate just a few years after their implementation. For example, the new participatory institutions, purportedly designed to empower ordinary citizens, leaned heavily on Chávez’s personal leadership and thus served to concentrate his executive authority rather than provide the citizens with a direct and independent role in the political process (Ellner 2011, 431–32; López Maya and Lander 2011, 60). Similarly, the land reform policies lacked regulation and enforcement mechanisms, resulting in violent conflict between landowners and peasants after the establishment of Rural Land Committees (ibid., 65–66). Additionally, Urban Land Committees, while initially successful in mobilizing the urban poor, became increasingly dependent on the Chávez regime for resources, resulting in a hierarchical structure that undermined the autonomy of local committee members (ibid., 67). Notably, in spite of these clear shortcomings, followers continued to view Chávez as their savior.

As these examples indicate, though Chávez’s constitution made sweeping promises to promote participatory democracy and social justice, the programs allegedly designed to achieve these objectives fell short and even contradicted values of political participation and social inclusion. Yet, rather than acknowledging these shortcomings, Chávez continually papered over them with new, equally bold and unrealistic measures, which he delivered through spontaneous executive decrees and “organic laws” rushed through the National Assembly (López Maya 2016, 211). The audacity and seemingly direct delivery of these gestures only reinforced Chávez’s valiant image in the eyes of his supporters. As a policy coordinator from the Central Bank of Venezuela described, “Chávez was a magician who created the illusion of progress.”⁴ While unrealistic and irresponsible, the initial, tangible effects of his daring policies – embodied by his ambitious new constitution – “proved” his extraordinariness in the eyes of the followers, thereby making him worthy of their devotion.

3.2.3 Construction of a Symbolic Narrative

To solidify his charismatic bonds with the people and consolidate the transformative power of his movement, Chávez cultivated a vivid narrative with three key characteristics. First, the narrative employed “missionary” rhetoric that glorified his image and tied him to classic heroes embedded in Venezuelan culture, including Simón Bolívar, Venezuela’s nineteenth-century liberator; Ezequiel Zamora, the hero of Venezuela’s Federal War; Guicaipuro, an indigenous Venezuelan chief who fought against the Spanish Conquest; and even Jesus Christ (Martínez Meucci and de Lustgarten 2014, 19–21; Michelutti 2017, 237–38; Zúquete 2008, 97). The comparison with familiar, beloved heroes cast a saintly glow on Chávez’s figure and imbued his mission with profound historical importance. In fact, the very labeling of his movement as “Bolivarian” suggested to his followers that Chávez did not merely seek to improve their lives, but that he also sought to “reclaim the dignity of the people, of the country, and of the supposedly better past, the mystical, glorious and heroic path that Venezuela always associated with the figure of Bolívar” (Martínez Meucci and de Lustgarten 2014, 23). By depicting Chávez as the true son of Venezuela’s most celebrated and tragic hero, his narrative tapped into several preexisting identities relevant to his followers, ranging from popular Christianity to mestizaje to Santería, and caused Chávez’s followers to worship him like a deity (Michelutti 2017, 234–36). As a professor of social and cultural studies at the Bolivarian University of Venezuela passionately proclaimed two years after the leader’s death, “Chávez is on the altar with the saints!”⁵

Second, while cultivating his image as a hero of epic proportions, Chávez’s narrative also demonized his opponents. In contrast with his followers, whom he affectionately called “patriots” and “soldiers,” Chávez referred to his adversaries as “enemies,” “coup plotters,” “imperialists,” and agents of the “extreme right” (Gauna 2018, 47). For example, in 2003 he declared in a speech, “this is not about the pro-Chávez against the anti-Chávez … but … the patriots against the enemies of the homeland” (Zúquete 2008, 105). Further, when opposition citizens protested, he often framed them as enemies of the true “people” and responded with brutal punishment rather than openness to negotiation, as illustrated by his response to the December 2002 strike by workers from the national oil company, Petróleos de Venezuela (PdVSA) (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 24–25).⁶ He also routinely marginalized and persecuted opposition judges, leaders, and parties and expelled advisors from within his own ranks whom he accused of betraying him, periodically humiliating these individuals through surprise attacks broadcasted to the public on his weekly television show (Carroll 2013, 64).

The establishment of an all-out war against a “clear-cut enemy” helped promote cohesion and obedience among Chávez’s followers by convincing them that their beloved leader’s critics posed a grave, even existential, threat (Huddy 2001, 150). As explained by the Bolivarian University professor, “Under threats from the ‘extreme right,’ Chávez would unify the people, so there was not dispersion.” In addition to strengthening cohesion among his followers, this strategy made Chávez appear even more charismatic and provided him with convenient scapegoats to blame for drops in performance. By alienating his movement’s opponents and attacking “traitors” from within it, the narrative also helped solidify a deep-seated and profoundly personalistic cleavage.

Third, Chávez’s symbolic narrative generated a mission that promised not only to vanquish evil opponents but also to emancipate the followers from their suffering by bringing about a holistic transformation of society. In contrast to “small, pragmatic changes to an already existing political system,” the mission envisioned a “rebirth” of Venezuela (Zúquete 2008, 112). The urgency of this all-encompassing agenda left no time or space for questions from hesitant observers. Rather, Chávez emphasized that successful transformation demanded the absolute faith of his followers; those who failed to demonstrate this commitment would suffer dire consequences. As Zúquete states, “To stress this need for a radical transformation of the country, Chávez’s discourse gain[ed] an apocalyptic dimension in which the survival of the country and even the world seem[ed] to be in question” (ibid.). A Chavista activist and journalist further stressed, “the transformation cannot happen without the followers; we need their faith in Chávez.”⁷

To build his symbolic narrative, Chávez established constant, direct communication with his followers through speeches and other performances that dominated media outlets. As the journalist explained, Chávez was a “communicational genius who started a revolution through the media.” The star of his own weekly television show, “Aló Presidente,” he spoke directly into the camera for hours, giving his followers the impression of having an intimate conversation with their president (Capriles 2012, 60; Carroll 2013, 15–18; Zúquete 2008, 100). He also frequently interrupted radio and television programs to make “emergency” announcements (cadenas) and reinforce the perception of his omnipresence in Venezuelans’ lives (Carroll 2013, 24). As a palace historian and archivist for Chávez described, the founder also traveled tirelessly around the country to personally connect with his followers, both during and between electoral campaigns.⁸

In addition to ensuring frequent and direct communication with his followers, Chávez strengthened his narrative by tightening his control over the media and saturating public spaces with symbols that glorified him and his movement. For example, Chávez’s government purchased or intimidated opposing news outlets by cutting funding, revoking licenses, and constricting the availability of material supplies (Weyland 2013, 19, 23–24). This left the movement with unencumbered space to project the narrative through media platforms ranging from television to radio to print. Chávez also took literal and symbolic ownership of traditional Venezuelan literature, art, and music. His regime sponsored literature, film, art, and music festivals and enjoyed the support of authors, musicians, and artists who fervently dedicated their work to the Comandante. Lastly, the movement filled physical spaces with Bolivarian symbols in the form of posters, murals, statues, buildings, colors, and songs that glorified the founder and his heroic predecessors. For example, Figure 3.1 displays a mural depicting Chávez with Bolívar and Christ (Ramirez 2014). When combined with his recognition of previously excluded citizens and his implementation of bold reforms, the omnipresence of Chávez’s narrative transformed Chavismo into “a charismatic form of political religion” to which his followers became deeply attached (Zúquete 2008, 92).

Figure 3.1. Mural of Chávez, Christ, and Bolívar

In sum, Chávez formed steadfast charismatic bonds with his followers by fulfilling three conditions. First, he directly recognized the suffering of marginalized citizens and promised to rescue them from their misery. Second, he proved his ability to follow through on this promise by implementing bold reforms that made an impressive initial impact on followers’ lives, such as a radical new constitution. Third, he established a compelling narrative that tied his heroic leadership to Venezuelan history, underscored the dangerous threat posed by his opponents, and reinforced his mission to provide transcendence by bringing about a profound transformation of society.

3.3 Assessing the Relevance of Alternative Linkage Types

The preceding section outlined the conditions under which charismatic attachments form and demonstrated the role of these ties in Chavismo. Yet, evaluating the impact of charisma on citizens’ attachments and identification with the movement also requires analysis of competing linkage types. This section assesses the extent to which followers developed alternative forms of attachment to Chavismo rooted in programmatic and organizational mechanisms, and it demonstrates how followers’ charismatic bonds overwhelmed these more conventional linkages.

3.3.1 Programmatic Attachments

The programmatic mechanism suggests that citizens’ attachments rest on the substantive coherence of the leader’s policies. Grounded in long-standing studies of issue preferences, retrospective and prospective economic voting, and partisanship, most scholars assume that this mechanism forms the natural and proper core of party and electoral politics (e.g., Achen 2002; Downs 1957; Fiorina 1981; Key 1966; Roberts 2014). To develop programmatic ties, citizens must have well-formed issue preferences that align with the leader’s policies (Key 1966, 7–8). In addition, the leader must consistently and successfully carry out these policies to earn voters’ approval and establish a clear programmatic trademark that is distinct from that of other parties (Fiorina 1981, 66). In contrast to bold, shortsighted reforms, whose initially impressive performance casts the individual leader in a heroic light, the programmatic trademark rests on the substantive content and steady functioning of social and economic policies. Citizens “periodically update” their attachment to the movement based on the leader’s adherence to this trademark (Kitschelt 2000, 846). If the leader fails to implement distinctive and effective policies that are consistent with this trademark, citizens punish him and reduce their attachment to the movement (Achen 2002, 151; Lupu 2013, 52).

Several scholars claim that Chávez developed a programmatic trademark that emphasized state-centered economics and redistributive social programs called missions. To begin, Chávez attempted to increase the state’s role in the economy. For instance, he tightened government control over the state-run oil company, PdVSA, by ratifying the New Organic Hydrocarbon Law in 2001 (Parker 2005, 44). Shortly thereafter, he nationalized dozens of non-oil companies and implemented a sweeping Land Reform Law. He also eventually imposed strict currency exchange and price controls to counteract inflation and keep consumer goods affordable (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 64).

However, Chávez did not stake out a clear position on economic policy until late 2001, well after he had consolidated widespread popular support. Upon taking office, he confirmed his center-right predecessor’s minister of finance, Maritza Izaguirre, and appeased the International Monetary Fund by cutting the state’s budget by 7 percent and strengthening the Investment Fund for Macroeconomic Stabilization (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 48–55). Despite these economically liberal policies, which contrasted sharply with his later turn to “socialism of the 21^st century,” Chávez’s movement cultivated impressive popular support: In 1999 and 2000, between 38 and 41 percent of Venezuelans claimed to identify with the movement and 75 to 84 percent approved of Chávez’s performance (Consultores 21 2014).

By late 2001, Chávez began to advertise and implement state-centered policies that were inspired by his new constitution. While many of these programs achieved impressive results at the outset, their performance soon dropped, providing little foundation for sustained programmatic support. For example, though booming oil prices from late 2003 to 2008 facilitated substantial economic growth, Chávez’s protectionist policies failed to stimulate investment and instead invited rampant corruption (Ellner 2010, 88–91; Corrales and Penfold 2015, 70). Thus, production in non-oil sectors declined, leading to sharp rises in the number of imported goods; investment in infrastructure lagged, generating electricity and water shortages; and price and exchange controls caused increasing inflation, a rising black market exchange rate, consumer goods shortages, and capital flight. The economy contracted by 3.3 percent of GDP when oil prices fell in 2009, and in 2010, Chávez was forced to sharply devalue the local currency (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 63–70). The ultimate failure of these policies and the resulting inflation and shortages disproportionately affected low-income citizens, many of whom were strong supporters of Chavismo.

Nevertheless, the substantial decline in Chávez’s economic performance did not temper his followers’ praise. Instead, his policy failures provided an opportunity for the charismatic leader to strengthen his symbolic narrative by blaming opposition actors whom he labeled as enemies of his revolution, including “imperial powers” like the United States and local agents of the “extreme right” (Zúquete 2008, 104–7). For instance, as Chávez’s economic performance declined over the course of his rule, his anti-US rhetoric steadily increased – even as the US tempered its critiques of Venezuela (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 113). Similarly, on the domestic front, Chávez accused his opponents of plotting “conspiracies against and betrayals of the homeland,” thereby undermining the success of his policies (Gauna 2018, 54–55). The success of this rhetorical strategy demonstrates citizens’ willingness to shield their beloved leader from criticism and suggests that their loyalty to his movement was not rooted in the substantive content and consistent performance of his economic programs.

In addition to state-centered economics, Chávez implemented dozens of redistributive social “missions.” Beginning with their launch in 2003, Chávez poured billions of petro-dollars into these programs in areas ranging from health care to information technology (Maingon 2016, 20). The most prominent missions sought to reduce poverty and inequality through better provision of food, health care, education, and housing. Through these programs, Chávez appeared to prioritize the objectives of equality and social justice showcased in his new constitution.

Yet, like his economic policies, Chávez’s social missions suffered from serious problems. The missions sprang up via presidential decree in a rapid, improvisational, and politicized manner that undercut their sustainability. Consequently, while they improved poor Venezuelans’ quality of life at the outset, the missions failed to perform favorably after their first few years of operation (Corrales and Penfold 2015, 61; España 2014). In fact, by 2007, Chávez’s most popular social program – the healthcare mission Barrio Adentro – was considered deeply flawed and largely inoperational (Aponte 2014, 128, 165). While poverty declined from 2003 to 2006, it stagnated from 2007 to 2012 and began to reverse thereafter (Ellner 2011, 433–38; Aponte 2014, 153; Maingon 2016, 119–20). By 2014, poverty had risen to 48.4 percent, surpassing 1998 levels by over 3 percentage points (España 2014, 4). Finally, despite the missions’ rapid initial growth, a 2014 survey indicates that a mere 10 percent of citizens report having benefited from them, suggesting a failure to sustainably reduce poverty and protect Venezuelans’ socioeconomic rights (Aponte 2014, 168; España 2014, 8). Thus, it is more likely that followers’ fervent approval of Chávez’s programs throughout this period arose from “lingering beliefs in [his] charisma” than from the substantive integrity of his policies (Merolla and Zechmeister 2011, 29).

In short, the superficial nature and volatile performance of Chávez’s economic and social policies indicates his preference for dramatic reform over programmatic development. Though he promised to establish economic and social inclusion in Venezuela, the delayed implementation of his policies and, ultimately, their negative performance made for a weak programmatic trademark. Most importantly, the bold, hasty application and short-lived success of these policies prioritized the establishment of Chávez’s savior-like image at the expense of medium- and long-term effectiveness. Consequently, while deepening followers’ affective ties to Chávez, these policies held little appeal for programmatically principled voters. Moreover, the delayed application of Chávez’s policies cannot account for the movement’s widespread support during his first three years in office. These factors demonstrate how personalism infused Chávez’s policy agenda and compromised the development of programmatic linkages.

3.3.2 Organizational Attachments

The organizational mechanism suggests that political attachments rest on the ties people cultivate with each other through local involvement in movement-affiliated activities and groups. Through these ties, citizens foster an enduring group identity that is maintained via involvement in the movement’s social clubs, neighborhood associations, and political organizations (Granovetter 1973; Green, Palmquist, and Schickler 2002). Building this type of bond requires the followers’ widespread and regular participation. The movement’s organizations must also be sustained and strengthened over time and must maintain a “horizontal” rather than hierarchical character to inspire group members’ feelings of efficacy (Ellner 2011, 430–31; Rhodes-Purdy 2015, 423–24). Unlike charismatic attachments, in which followers’ sense of belonging comes directly from the leader, the organizational mechanism suggests that the followers ease their feelings of exclusion in a bottom-up fashion by interacting with each other.

Chávez promoted the organizational dynamic of his movement and even enshrined citizen participation in the 1999 constitution as a necessary condition for democracy (García-Guadilla 2012, 220). Early in his presidency, he launched several community-based organizations aimed at placing governance into the hands of the people, including Urban Land Committees, Health Committees, Technical Roundtables for Water, and Bolivarian Circles (Aponte 2014; López Maya and Lander 2011). In 2006, he appeared to strengthen this initiative by establishing the Communal Councils (CCs). Officially registered, neighborhood-level groups consisting of 200 to 400 families, the CCs were intended to be self-governing: They would elect representatives, run their own meetings, and solicit funds directly from the government to resolve problems (Aponte 2014, 264).

In practice, however, this network failed to cultivate genuine organizational ties to the movement. First, citizen participation in the CCs was neither widespread nor regular. A 2005–2007 survey of poor Venezuelans by Universidad Católica Andrés Bello (UCAB) suggests that only 29 percent had ever participated in a community event, while only 7 percent had participated in a CC (Aponte 2014, 260). Among the few citizens who participated in CCs, a 2008 survey by Centro Gumilla indicates that less than 50 percent regularly attended meetings (Machado 2009, 48–49). Second, the poor infrastructure of these groups compromised followers’ ability to develop a strong grassroots network. Chávez’s sluggish and haphazard institutionalization of the CCs reflects this weakness: He did not legally recognize them through the Law of Communal Councils until 2006, and he neglected to establish a government ministry to oversee them until 2010 (Aponte 2014, 264). By 2012, in a famous speech titled “Changing Course” (Golpe de Timón), Chávez angrily acknowledged the weakness of his movement’s grassroots spirit (Chávez 2012). Third, much evidence indicates that the CCs functioned in a hierarchical fashion. In many CCs, a mere handful of members remained active, and leaders often served as party bosses rather than local representatives, usurping control over projects and funds at the expense of other residents (García-Guadilla 2012, 227–35). Perhaps as a result, a 2009 survey by Centro Gumilla suggests 76 percent of Venezuelans perceived CCs as corrupt, while 77 percent agreed that CCs did not involve most members of their community (Machado 2009, 37; Aponte 2014, 271).

Ultimately, the evidence suggests that the CCs did not foster genuine grassroots empowerment. While Chávez extolled the virtues of participatory democracy and made dramatic (if irregular) efforts to establish community organizations, these groups suffered from low participation rates and severe institutional weaknesses. Outspoken leaders dominated many CCs and bred distrust rather than a genuine participatory spirit. Moreover, citizens’ feelings of recognition and inclusion depended more on their devotion to Chávez than their involvement in community affairs. Indeed, while followers praised Chávez for giving them a voice in politics, they did not exercise that voice in practice through involvement in the movement’s participatory organizations. Instead, Chávez imposed cohesion over his movement in a top-down fashion, preventing “formal collective decision-making” and suppressing “the emergence of a second-in-command” (Ellner 2011, 434). Therefore, it is unlikely that swaths of followers developed strong attachments to Chavismo based on an organizational mechanism.

3.4 A Quantitative Analysis of Competing Attachment Mechanisms

I draw from a nationally representative 2007 survey by LAPOP to quantitatively investigate the impact of charisma on citizens’ attachments to Chavismo relative to programmatic and organizational factors. The survey contains relevant questions for all aspects of my analysis, including attachment to the movement (dependent variable); evaluation of economic and social policies (programmatic independent variables); participation in the CCs (organizational independent variable); and perceptions of Chávez’s charisma (personalistic independent variable). In addition, the survey was fielded in August and September of 2007, shortly after Chávez’s second reelection. By that time, voters had several years to experience and evaluate both programmatic and grassroots components of Chávez’s movement, including the social missions and CCs. Thus, the survey allows for an important analysis of the personalistic mechanism’s relative strength at a crucial point during Chávez’s rule.

3.4.1 The Dependent Variable

I construct the dependent variable – attachment to Chavismo – using a question on respondents’ party identification. Political scientists have long understood party identification as a genuine expression of membership in or attachment to a political group (Campbell et al. 1960; Green et al. 2002; Lupu 2013). Venezuelans’ identification with Chavista-affiliated parties, therefore, captures their self-perceived political ties more adequately than vote choice, which can result from a range of factors extending beyond attachment to the movement. I create a dichotomous measure of attachment where citizens who identify with one of three party labels connected to Chávez’s movement – Movement of the Fifth Republic (MVR), Fatherland for All (PPT), or the United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV) – are considered “attached” while citizens who do not are considered “not attached.”⁹ Twenty-three percent of all respondents express attachment to these parties, while just fewer than 9 percent identify with non-Chavista parties. Due to the weakly institutionalized nature of Chavismo, measuring identification with associated parties likely underestimates the number of Venezuelans attached to the broader movement. Nevertheless, I use this measure because the survey does not ask about attachment to the movement per se – and I assume that citizens who identify with affiliated parties also have genuine attachments to the movement.¹⁰

3.4.2 The Independent Variables

I select several survey items as independent variables to represent the three attachment mechanisms. For the charismatic mechanism, I incorporate a five-question battery on perceptions of Chávez’s charisma developed by Merolla and Zechmeister (2011).¹¹ This focus on citizens’ perceptions of the leader, rather than “objective” personality traits, captures the subjective dynamic of charismatic authority (Weber 1922/1978, 242). As shown previously in this chapter, the factors underlying the charismatic mechanism – direct recognition, bold reforms, and the symbolic narrative – also serve to increase perceptions of the leader’s charisma, suggesting the validity of the measure. Though many successful leaders are perceived as charismatic, scholars have stressed that, relative to other Latin American presidents, perceptions of Chávez’s charisma were uniquely high throughout his tenure (Weyland 2003, 822; Zúquete 2008, 91; Hawkins 2010, 37–38; Merolla and Zechmeister 2011, 37–38). Furthermore, while related to party attachment, leader approval, and vote choice, charismatic perceptions remain a theoretically and empirically distinct concept.¹²

The questions in the LAPOP charisma battery ask respondents to report on a four-point scale the extent to which they agree about five statements: (1) Chávez articulates a compelling vision of the future, (2) Chávez instills pride in being associated with him, (3) Chávez’s actions build my respect for him, (4) Chávez considers the moral and ethical consequences of his decisions, and (5) Chávez goes beyond his own self-interest for the good of the group (Merolla and Zechmeister 2011, 37). I add and rescale these items to create a continuous score of Chávez’s charisma ranging from zero (not at all charismatic) to one (very charismatic).¹³

For the programmatic mechanism, I first include survey items that gauge respondents’ perceptions of Chávez’s economic performance. Following Merolla and Zechmeister (2011), I combine four questions – on current and retrospective evaluations of the economy at the national and personal levels – into a single variable using factor analysis, then rescale the variable to range from zero (bad) to one (good). It is important to note that this indicator does not exclusively reflect the programmatic mechanism. Indeed, citizens could give positive evaluations because they approve of the regime’s economic programs or because they perceive Chávez as a savior who makes good on his promise to rescue the people. As Merolla and Zechmeister suggest, “individuals who perceive Chávez as highly charismatic see Venezuela’s economy … through rose-colored glasses” (2011, 31). In other words, charismatic perceptions of Chávez may cause respondents to evaluate the economy more favorably. To examine this possibility, I run one set of models in which economic evaluations and charismatic perceptions are independent and a second set of models in which they are interacted. The interaction term will shed light on whether and how charismatic perceptions impact the effect of economic evaluations on citizens’ attachments to Chavismo.

In addition to economic performance, I incorporate two questions on respondents’ assessments of Chávez’s two largest social missions to measure the strength of the programmatic mechanism – the health mission (Barrio Adentro) and the food mission (Mercal). I add these evaluations and rescale the sum to range from zero (bad) to one (good). Incorporating these variables cuts the sample size by over half (N = 641) because only about 50 and 70 percent of respondents report having used the health and food missions, respectively. To address this issue, one set of models examines whether respondents accessed these missions in the first place, while a second set explores the subsample of respondents who report having used both missions. Whereas the former variable measures access to the missions, which tends to be restricted based on partisanship (Hawkins et al. 2011), the latter more closely reflects citizens’ substantive evaluation of those programs.

To measure the influence of participation in movement-affiliated organizations on attachment to Chavismo, I incorporate a question about respondents’ involvement in the CCs. Because the CCs represent the movement’s central network of participatory organizations, respondents with organizational ties should report extensive involvement in these groups. I rescale a four-point scale in which one is “never” and four is “every week” to range from zero (low) to one (high).

Finally, I incorporate four control variables thought to influence citizens’ identification with Chavismo: socioeconomic status, education, age, and gender.¹⁴ Table 3.1 displays descriptive statistics for the key dependent and independent variables for both surveys. Additional information on the survey can be found in the online Appendix A.

Table 3.1. Descriptive statistics for dependent and independent variables

Variable	Scale	N	Mean	Std. Dev.
Attachment to Chavismo*	0–1	1510	0.23	0.42
Charismatic perceptions	0–1	1438	0.55	0.36
Economic evaluations	0–1	1474	0.50	0.22
Mission recipient	0–1	1510	0.60	0.39
Evaluation of missions	0–1	641	0.84	0.21
Communal Council participation	0–1	1495	0.25	0.36
Socioeconomic status	0–1	1510	0.58	0.24
Education (years)	0–20	1509	10.50	4.45
Age	18–89	1510	36.27	14.06
Female*	0–1	1510	0.50	0.50
Urban*	0–1	1510	0.95	0.21

^* The proportion rather than the mean is given for dichotomous variables.

In total, I analyze four binary logistic regression models. Models A and C include the variable on access to the missions and thus include most respondents (N = 1326). Models B and D replace this variable with one on substantive evaluation of the missions among those who accessed them (N = 579). Finally, Models A and B treat charismatic perceptions and economic evaluations independently, whereas Models C and D interact with the two variables. The next section discusses the results based on these four models.

3.4.3 Results

The results (Table 3.2) suggest the uniquely strong influence of charisma on citizens’ attachments to Chavismo. Models A and B indicate that charismatic perceptions have a statistically significant and substantively large impact on citizens’ ties to the movement. In the unrestricted sample (Model A), respondents who perceive Chávez as extremely charismatic (score of one) are 47 percentage points more likely to express attachment than those who find Chávez extremely uncharismatic (score of zero), holding the remaining independent variables constant at their means. Among mission users (Model B), this figure rises to 58 percentage points (Figure 3.2).

Table 3.2. Binary logistic regression results

	Model A	Model B	Model C	Model D
Charismatic perceptions	4.06*** (0.36)	3.74*** (0.49)	6.32*** (1.04)	6.65*** (1.51)
Economic evaluations	0.79 (0.41)	0.52 (0.52)	4.26** (1.50)	4.85* (2.11)
Charismatic perceptions * Econ. evaluations	–	–	–4.32* (1.77)	–5.30* (2.49)
Mission recipient	1.26*** (0.23)	–	1.25*** (0.23)	–
Evaluation of missions	–	0.48 (0.53)	–	0.42 (0.53)
CC participation	0.17 (0.20)	0.29 (0.25)	0.20 (0.20)	0.32 (0.25)
Socioeconomic status	0.18 (0.33)	0.02 (0.43)	0.20 (0.33)	0.04 (0.43)
Education	0.05** (0.02)	0.07** (0.03)	0.05** (0.02)	0.07** (0.03)
Age	0.02** (0.01)	0.02** (0.01)	0.02** (0.01)	0.02** (0.01)
Female	–0.19 (0.15)	–0.20 (0.19)	–0.19 (0.15)	–0.20 (0.19)
Urban	0.22 (0.35)	0.59 (0.47)	0.24 (0.35)	0.63 (0.47)
Intercept	–6.65*** (0.55)	–6.11*** (0.84)	–8.52*** (0.99)	–7.92*** (1.38)
N	1390	607	1390	607
Pseudo-r2	0.29	0.20	0.29	0.20

Standard errors shown in parentheses.

*p<.05; **p<.01; ***p<.001

Figure 3.2. Predicted probability of attachment at different levels of charismatic perceptions

In contrast, the programmatic and organizational variables are only weakly associated with attachments to the movement. Models A and B suggest that economic performance does not have a significant, independent impact on Bolivarian attachment. Models C and D examine the potential interactive effect of charismatic perceptions and economic evaluations on attachment. Interpreting this effect requires visual examination of predicted probabilities (Figure 3.3), as the statistical significance of interactions in nonlinear regression does not necessarily indicate a substantively meaningful effect (Brambor, Clark, and Golder 2006, 73–74). Model C suggests that there is no meaningful interactive effect: At different levels of charismatic perceptions, the influence of economic performance evaluations on attachment does not change significantly. However, Model D suggests that the interactive effect may have a small, negative effect among mission users: As charismatic perceptions of Chávez increase, the effect of performance evaluations on Bolivarian attachment decreases slightly. While this interaction appears significant, its negative sign suggests that higher charismatic perceptions dampen the influence of performance evaluations. The evidence therefore underscores the “Teflon” effect of Chávez’s charisma (Merolla and Zechmeister 2011, 30), which protects him from the negative consequences of poor performance.

Figure 3.3. Effect of economic evaluations on probability of attachment at different levels of charismatic perceptions: Interactive models

In terms of social programs, accessing benefits from one or both missions significantly increases the probability of expressing attachment to the movement. However, as discussed earlier, this does not necessarily suggest that the programmatic mechanism is at work. In fact, among mission users (Model B), substantive assessments of the missions have no significant effect, suggesting that the quality of these programs does not influence respondents’ attachments. Finally, across all four models, participation in the CCs has no significant association with attachment. These data indicate the relative weakness of the programmatic and grassroots mechanisms while further highlighting the strong effects of personalism on loyalty to the movement. Taken together, the four models suggest the relative insignificance of programmatic and organizational factors on Bolivarian attachments while highlighting the disproportionate influence of charismatic perceptions of Chávez.

To ensure the validity of the results, I explore two alternative explanations for the underwhelming effects of programmatic and organizational factors. First, in the additive models (A and B), multicollinearity between charismatic perceptions and the other independent variables could artificially inflate the significance of the former and depress that of the latter. However, the variance inflation factor (VIF) for charisma for both models is low (1.66 and 1.48, respectively), suggesting that multicollinearity does not account for the results.¹⁵ Second, preference falsification may explain the insignificance of these variables. Specifically, respondents could feel pressured to evaluate Chávez’s charisma more highly than they otherwise might. Yet, citizens generally do not hesitate to express dissatisfaction with Chávez’s regime. In fact, 17 percent of respondents perceive Chávez as completely uncharismatic and 56 percent rate his performance as mediocre, poor, or very poor. One would expect substantially higher approval ratings if preference falsification were at play. The remaining explanation suggests that citizens’ intense perceptions of Chávez’s charisma are intimately linked with their attachment to his movement, while programmatic and organizational factors have notably weaker effects.

3.5 Conclusion

This chapter has investigated the mechanisms through which charismatic attachments form and overpower alternative forms of citizen–politician linkages. Recognition of historically marginalized citizens, daring yet short-lived policies, and a captivating symbolic narrative of redemption cause citizens to perceive the leader as intensely charismatic and solidify their deep, emotional attachments to the leader’s movement. Moreover, the formation of such quasi-religious attachments undermines the development of programmatic and grassroots linkages. Charismatic leaders’ need to demonstrate impressive performance compromises the effectiveness and sustainability of their policies, which weakens the programmatic mechanism of attachment. Additionally, the leaders’ unmediated, top-down recognition of excluded sectors concentrates their personalistic authority and therefore undermines genuine grassroots participation.

I illustrate this argument focusing on the formation of citizens’ attachments to Chavismo in Venezuela. Drawing on qualitative insights from secondary research and three months of fieldwork that I conducted in 2015, I demonstrate that Chávez expertly fulfilled the three conditions necessary for cultivating strong, charismatic attachments with his followers. Subsequently, using data from the 2007 LAPOP survey, I show that voters’ perceptions of Chávez’s charisma provided a stronger, more consistent foundation for their attachment to his movement than factors based on programmatic evaluation and participation in Chavista organizations. Though Chávez proclaimed state-centered economics, redistributive social programs, and grassroots organizations as central to his movement, the results suggest his personal appeal eclipsed these factors. Indeed, most programmatic and organizational elements of Chavismo had no significant relationship with attachment to the movement; in contrast, citizens’ perceptions of Chávez’s charisma were strongly associated with their loyalty to the movement.

I contend that the process through which citizens’ charismatic attachments form is crucial for understanding the resilience of those ties. The three conditions that help form those attachments do not only serve to establish the leader’s initial popularity, but they also make it difficult for subsequent politicians to depersonalize those attachments when the founder disappears. The subsequent chapter draws on focus groups conducted with followers of Peronism and Chavismo to investigate how charismatic attachments, once formed, can develop into a resilient political identity that undermines efforts at routinization while setting the stage for the revival of the movement in personalistic form.

4 The Survival of Charismatic Attachments

The previous chapter demonstrated the process through which the founder of a charismatic movement fosters powerful, direct, and emotional attachments with his followers. To so demonstrate, I indicated that the leader fulfills three conditions: He directly recognizes the people’s suffering, implements bold policies to demonstrate his ability to resolve their suffering, and crafts a symbolic narrative that praises his leadership as heroic, portrays opponents as malevolent, and proclaims his sacred mission to transform society.

Existing studies confirm the importance of these conditions for the initial cultivation of charismatic attachments (e.g., Eisenstadt 1968; Madsen and Snow 1991; Pappas 2012; Shils 1965; Weber 1922/1978; Willner and Willner 1965). Yet, in line with the routinization thesis, these studies claim that the survival of the attachments depends on the physical presence of the leader. Consequently, when charismatic leaders die, the literature concludes that citizens’ attachments fade away. Studies of Peronism and Chavismo reflect this assumption. In Argentina, scholars and strategists from across the political spectrum argue that citizens’ affective attachments to Peronism have long since vanished.¹ In Venezuela, though Chávez died much more recently, scholars – citing the disastrous performance of Chávez’s handpicked successor, Nicolás Maduro – have concluded that citizens’ deep, emotional ties to Chavismo are fading away (López Maya 2014, 2016; Denis 2015).²

In contrast, this chapter argues that citizens’ charismatic attachments can outlive the founder by sustaining, rather than discarding, their affective nature. The symbolic narrative underlying charismatic bonds causes the followers to develop a resilient political identity that shapes their worldview, perpetuates the cleavage between the followers and their opponents, and reaffirms the followers’ faith in the founder’s mission of transcendence. When the leader dies and can no longer physically maintain his personal connection with the followers, this narrative serves as a scripture, which, like the New Testament for many Christians, upholds the followers’ identification with the movement. Whereas routinization scholars would suggest that the emotional power of this narrative grows weaker over time, I contend that the followers keep the narrative alive by recounting their cherished, personal experiences living under the founder’s rule, passing those stories to younger generations, and preserving symbols that commemorate the founder’s valiant leadership.

The followers’ stories and symbols safeguard their emotional connections to the movement and its righteous community of followers by reinforcing the key elements of the founder’s narrative: a worldview that worships the founder as their ultimate savior, a stark pro/anti-movement cleavage, and a profound faith in the founder’s mission of salvation. Consequently, the movement can persist in a leaderless state for a strikingly long period of time without undergoing routinization. Moreover, because the personalistic nature of the followers’ attachments shapes their expectations of future politicians, it incentivizes future leaders to portray themselves as new saviors capable of picking up the founder’s baton and resuming his mission to rescue society. As I will demonstrate in Chapters 5 and 6, leaders who respond to these incentives when conditions are favorable can reactivate citizens’ attachments and restore the movement to power under their own charismatic authority.

The present chapter investigates the survival of charismatic attachments in two stages. I begin by analyzing how the founder’s narrative helps the attachments develop into an enduring political identity. Next, I explore the mechanism through which the followers perpetuate this identity after the founder’s death. I illustrate this process using evidence from focus groups conducted with the followers of Peronism and Chavismo after the deaths of Juan Perón and Hugo Chávez, respectively.³ In both cases, the findings reveal that the followers’ deeply personal, affective identification with the movement and its founder persists. Furthermore, the focus group discussions illustrate how the preservation of cherished stories and symbols at the level of the individual follower has sustained the narrative and, by extension, the followers’ personalistic attachments to the movement. These results underscore the resilience and centrality of the followers’ attachments for upholding the charismatic nature of the movement after the founder’s death.

4.1 A Theory of Charismatic Movement Survival

4.1.1 The Symbolic Narrative and the Establishment of a Resilient Political Identity

I claim that the followers’ charismatic attachments help perpetuate the movement by cultivating an enduring political identity. This identity is important because, as suggested by political psychologists, it influences citizens’ attitudes, behaviors, and sense of purpose in several ways. For one, it provides citizens with a “lens to interpret their world” (Cramer 2016, 6, 20). This “worldview” shapes identifiers’ understanding of their surroundings, including the mundane activities of daily life, major events, and the motives and behaviors of other people. Second, the identity causes the followers, who are members of the “in-group,” to distinguish themselves from non-identifiers, the “out-group.” This division is important because in-group members often struggle to sympathize with and can even alienate their out-group counterparts, who maintain a fundamentally different worldview (Tajfel 1974). Likewise, members of the out-group develop an “anti-identity” and corresponding feelings of aversion toward the followers, thereby increasing the affective polarization of society and strengthening the personalistic cleavage (Cyr and Meléndez 2015; Iyengar et al. 2019; Meléndez 2019). Third, while generating antipathy between in- and out-groups, the identity increases cohesion among fellow in-group members by providing them with a shared sense of meaning in their lives and faith in a common purpose (Huddy 2013, 18; Zúquete 2013, 266–67). In short, citizens’ identity can influence politics by shaping their worldview, antagonizing outsiders, and infusing the followers with a shared sense of purpose.

The charismatic founder’s symbolic narrative plays a crucial role in the construction of the followers’ identification with the movement because it reinforces each of the abovementioned elements. First, the narrative’s glorification of the founder forms the basis of the followers’ worldview. More than merely viewing the founder as an inspirational leader, the narrative endows him with “quasi-divine status,” such that the followers feel his symbolic presence in their daily lives (Zúquete 2008, 107). Even after the founder has died or disappeared, the followers continue to praise him in a Christ-like fashion and even search for manifestations of the founder’s spirit in their world. This ongoing hero worship impacts the followers’ understanding of politics. In particular, it sustains their collective faith in the leader’s mission to provide the followers with salvation. Moreover, the followers come to believe that the mission cannot succeed without a heroic leader at the helm. This, in turn, shapes their expectations of future politicians: Who, they ask, will embody the spirit of the founder and revive his quest to rescue the people?

In addition to anchoring the followers’ understanding of the world in the immortal and heroic vision of the founder, the narrative’s portrayal of opponents as threats to the people’s well-being strengthens the followers’ identity. The perception that followers are constantly under attack generates feelings of fear and anxiety, which bolsters “in-group unity” while “inflaming out-group hostilities” (Huddy 2013, 44). Additionally, the narrative causes supporters to feel resentful toward those who oppose the movement. This makes reconciliation between the two groups more difficult after the founder has gone, and it incentivizes subsequent leaders to deepen, rather than soften, the divide between the followers for political gain (Cramer 2016, 14–15).

Third, the narrative helps turn charismatic attachments into a resilient identity by upholding the founder’s mission of societal transformation and spiritual transcendence. Whereas the attacks on opponents distinguish the followers from their “enemies,” this mission provides the followers with a positive reason for belonging to the group: the promise of societal transformation and, ultimately, salvation (Zúquete 2013, 267). Even after the death of the founder, their continued faith in his mission strengthens feelings of warmth, pride, and closeness with one another, as it reaffirms their sense of purpose and provides “a sense of symbolic common fate” (Huddy 2013, 24).

Together, the three abovementioned elements contribute to the persistence of the followers’ attachments and corresponding identity by strengthening the “simultaneously individual and social” nature of the identity (Huddy 2001, 146). At the individual level, the followers perceive themselves as having unmediated, personal connections to the founder. This perception holds tremendous emotional significance for the followers and impacts their attitudes and behaviors. At the group level, the followers’ shared belief in and commitment to the founder’s mission to transform society makes them part of a “moral community,” which transcends the individual level by providing the followers with the powerful feeling that they belong to the group (Zúquete 2013, 263–34). This collective dimension of the followers’ identity gives them a common purpose and holds the movement together over time, lending it coherence despite ideological heterogeneity, programmatic volatility, and factionalism.

In sum, the charismatic founder’s symbolic narrative plays a crucial role in constructing a stable, deeply personalistic identity among the followers that has strong individual and collective dimensions. First, the narrative’s sanctification of the founder perpetuates his symbolic influence in the followers’ lives and establishes an enduring worldview. Second, the portrayal of opponents as enemies strengthens the identity by deepening the cleavage between the founder’s disciples and opponents, generating affective polarization, and promoting cohesion among the followers. Third, faith in the founder’s mission of holistic transformation provides the followers with positive affirmation and a deep sense of purpose that transcends the self. The combination of these aspects of the symbolic narrative turns citizens’ attachments to the leader into a profound, quasi-spiritual identity that cannot be easily transformed when the founder disappears.

4.1.2 The Perpetuation of the Charismatic Identity after the Death of the Founder

As described earlier, the cultivation of a charismatic identity helps solidify citizens’ attachments to the founder during his lifetime. Even so, his death generates a crisis because he can no longer personally sustain his deep, emotional bonds with the followers. To recover from this situation, the routinization thesis indicates that, similar to more conventional parties, the movement must develop an organizational network through which to reach supporters and maintain their loyalty (Madsen and Snow 1991). Samuels and Zucco’s important study of the Workers’ Party in Brazil illustrates this mechanism of creating and sustaining attachments. As the authors state, the party mobilizes “pre-existing organizational networks” and sets up local offices to “cultivate extensive and lasting affective partisan attachments” (Samuels and Zucco 2015, 755).

In contrast, I argue that, in charismatic movements, it is the followers’ personal preservation of their identity, rather than the mobilization of an organizational network, that sustains the movement in the wake of the founder’s death. The followers, who are distraught due to their founder’s departure, cling to his symbolic narrative to preserve their sense of identity and reassure themselves of his ongoing spiritual presence. This sentiment carries the movement forward until a new leader rises and assumes the founder’s mantle.

During such leaderless periods, I claim that the followers engage in two activities to sustain the founder’s narrative and, by extension, their affective identification with the movement. First, the followers preserve and recount cherished memories of their personal experiences, or their loved ones’ personal experiences, during the founder’s rule. These stories describe the followers’ interactions with the founder and depict how he single-handedly improved the lives of the followers and their loved ones. The focus of these stories on the relationship between individual followers and the founder, as well as on the leader’s heroic gestures, reflect and sustain the unmediated emotional nature of the followers’ relationship to the movement. Moreover, as parents and grandparents regale their children with these stories, younger generations of the followers develop their own affective ties to the movement, even without personally experiencing the founder’s rule. The retelling of these stories, thus, establishes a pattern of “continuous ritualization and symbolism” that helps preserve the identity over time (Zúquete 2013, 267).

In addition to these stories, the followers save physical objects and other symbols that memorialize the founder and his mission of transcendence. For example, some keep items such as clothing, flags, and “gifts” from the founder ranging from marbles to books to sewing machines. They also bequeath these sacred objects to their children, helping perpetuate the identity over time. Other supporters change their physical appearance, donning tattoos of the founder’s face or changing their hairstyle to mimic the founder’s (e.g., Auyero 2001, 120). These symbols maintain the followers’ sentimental connections to the movement because, as suggested by political psychologists, they evoke overwhelming, positive emotions among members of the group (Citrin and Sears 2009, 162; Huddy 2013, 19; Sears 2001, 14). The symbols also provide physical markers that differentiate members of the group from outsiders, reinforcing the cleavage between the followers and their opponents (Sears 2001, 15). Finally, similar to the crucifix in Christianity, the symbols remind the followers of the reason they belong to the movement: namely, their belief in the founder’s mission of salvation (ibid., 16).

4.1.3 Charismatic Movements “In Abeyance”

To recapitulate, the symbolic narrative is crucial for the survival of citizens’ charismatic attachments to the movement after the death of the founder. The followers sustain the narrative through individual-level stories and symbols, which reinforce their attachments and solidify their personalistic identification with the movement. Importantly, the personalistic nature of the followers’ identity becomes remarkably stable (Huddy 2001, 131; Meléndez and Rovira Kaltwasser 2019, 3). Thus, even as the political relevance of the identity rises and falls over time, its charismatic core resists change (Huddy 2001, 149).

This deeply entrenched identity forms the foundation for the survival of charismatic movements. Its role is especially important when the movement finds itself in leaderless situations. During such junctures, the symbolic image of the founder and his promise to deliver salvation maintain the followers’ feelings of hope and loyalty which, in turn, preserve the movement “in abeyance,”⁴ helping it cohere for a significant period of time (Taylor 1989).⁵ Although the absence of a strong leader during these stretches of time can cause citizens to become politically disengaged, the personalistic nature of their identity sustains their sense of belonging to the founder’s righteous community and provides them with hope that a new leader will eventually rise and take the founder’s place. Thus, when conditions become more favorable, a new leader can politically reactivate the followers’ identity and restore the movement to power (Cramer 2016, 15; Huddy 2001, 148; Huddy 2013, 12; Klar 2013, 1108; Meléndez and Rovira Kaltwasser 2019, 3). The next section turns to focus groups with the followers of Peronism and Chavismo to illustrate the process through which citizens’ charismatic attachments to the founder develop into a resilient identity that sustains the movement after the founder’s death.

4.2 Resilient Identities and the Survival of Charismatic Movements: Evidence from Focus Groups

4.2.1 Research Design

To investigate the survival of charismatic movements from the followers’ perspective, I conducted thirteen focus groups – six in Venezuela and seven in Argentina – with self-identified the followers of Chavismo and Peronism, respectively.⁶ In both countries, the focus groups took place in 2016 – 3 years after the death of Hugo Chávez and 42 years after the death of Juan Perón. This timing allowed me to assess the extent to which the followers have maintained charismatic attachments during two important junctures after the disappearance of the founders: in the direct aftermath of the founder’s death, in Venezuela, and decades later, in Argentina. In both cases, the results demonstrate that the founder and his narrative remain central to the followers’ loyalty to the movement. In addition, the Argentine case reveals how the followers can update and even strengthen their personalistic identity based on positive experiences under subsequent movement leaders, whom the followers view as genuine heirs of the founder.

I designed the focus groups with two objectives in mind. First, I sought to probe the nature of the followers’ identification with the movement. Therefore, participants discussed why they considered themselves to be “Chavista” or “Peronist”; what, if anything, continued to inspire them about the movement’s founder; and what characteristics they generally looked for in political leaders. Considering the collective and subjectively understood nature of identities, this portion of the analysis focused on the group as the unit of analysis (Cyr 2016, 234–35; Huddy 2001, 131). Unlike in-depth interviews or surveys, which investigate individual perspectives, the social environment of focus groups enabled participants to collectively contemplate the nature of their shared identity. This approach also revealed key insights about how participants “piece the world together for themselves,” considering not only what constitutes their identity, but also why the identity matters to them (Cramer 2016, 20). A third advantage of the focus group method was that it encouraged participants to reflect on the complex and nuanced nature of their shared identity in a relaxed setting, with the help of fellow group members and the guidance of an expert moderator, rather than undertaking this cognitively difficult task alone (Cyr 2016, 235).

My second reason for conducting focus groups was to explore how followers sustain their identity to the movement in the absence of the founder. I gathered participants’ accounts of their experiences under the founder as well as under subsequent leaders. I also listened to participants describe the symbols they had preserved over the years to commemorate the movement’s leaders and mission of transcendence. This portion of the study focused on the individual followers as the unit of analysis rather than the group. As Cyr indicates, focus groups can be useful for gathering “rapid, individual-level feedback” from a relatively large number of individuals – a larger number than can be achieved through in-depth interviews (Cyr 2016, 234). By capturing group dynamics as well as participants’ individual perspectives, I assessed both the individual and collective aspects of followers’ identification with the movement (Huddy 2001, 146).

To carry out the focus groups, I recruited self-identified followers of the movement from the lower and lower-middle classes in both countries. I selected these citizens as participants because my theory suggests that, having experienced greater socioeconomic marginalization, these individuals constitute the most crucial and consistent support base for both movements.⁷ To obtain a range of perspectives, the focus groups were divided between followers who do and do not support the most recent leader of the movement (Cristina Kirchner in Argentina and Nicolás Maduro in Venezuela). To the extent possible, focus groups were also divided by age to explore how different generations of followers perceive their attachments to the movement, its founder(s), and subsequent successor(s). All groups were balanced in terms of gender.

I partnered with professional public opinion firms in each country to conduct the focus groups. Trained staff members recruited participants using a quota sampling method and contact lists from each firm’s database. Participants who met the criteria for age, gender, socioeconomic status, movement identification, and geographical location were included.⁸ The latter criterion required that participants come from a range of neighborhoods in each city where the focus groups were held. (See more detailed information in the country-specific descriptions presented subsequently.) In selecting participants, the staff ensured that the subjects did not know each other prior to participating in the focus group. Given the non-random method of recruiting participants, the sample cannot be considered as representative of the broader population of followers in either country. Nevertheless, the focus groups revealed valuable information from the perspective of the followers regarding the nature of their identity with the movement, their personal experiences as movement followers, and their impressions of the founder and subsequent leaders.

Experienced local moderators led all focus group discussions. Participants were served light refreshments and received modest monetary compensation for their time. The moderator reassured participants of the confidentiality of the session, encouraged them to express their honest opinions, and guided conversation based on a predesigned script. The scripts for both countries asked participants to reflect on and share why they identify with the movement; specific experiences that drew them toward the movement; positive and negative feelings toward the movement and its different leaders, both past and present; feelings toward the movement’s opponents; thoughts and feelings about the movement’s future; and what activities, objects, or events, if any, have made them feel closer to the movement since the founder’s death (sample questions from each script are listed in online Appendix B).⁹

In Venezuela, six focus groups with eight to ten participants each were conducted in partnership with Consultores 21, a renowned, local public opinion firm with ample experience. Due to logistical limitations, participants in all groups were recruited from the capital city of Caracas and its outskirts. Two groups were conducted with adults aged 18 to 25, two groups were conducted with adults aged 26 to 40, and two groups were conducted with adults aged 41 to 55. Participants in three groups (one from each age range) were supportive of Chávez’s current successor, Nicolás Maduro, while participants in the three remaining groups were opposed to Maduro.

In Argentina, seven focus groups with seven to ten participants each were conducted in partnership with Trespuntozero, a local public opinion firm that specializes in political campaigns throughout the country. The focus groups were conducted in three different provinces to obtain a more geographically diverse sample of followers than if the focus groups had been conducted exclusively in the Federal Capital of Buenos Aires. Three groups were held in the Federal Capital, incorporating participants from the city and its outskirts, where many popular sector Peronists reside; two groups were held in Córdoba, the country’s second largest city and a traditionally anti-Peronist stronghold; and two groups were held in La Rioja, a rural, traditionally Peronist region and Menem’s home base, which shares a border with Chile. Six of the seven groups were conducted with adults aged 25 to 55, while one (the third held in Buenos Aires) was conducted with young adults aged 18 to 24.¹⁰ Four groups (one per region plus the young adult group in Buenos Aires) were sympathetic to the current Peronist leader, Cristina Kirchner, while three groups (one per region) were opposed to Kirchner.

4.2.2 Results: The Establishment of a Resilient Charismatic Identity

4.2.2.1 Venezuela

Glorification of the Founder

The focus group discussions in Venezuela underscored the central role of the symbolic narrative in solidifying citizens’ charismatic identification with the movement. First, consistent with the narrative, participants praised Chávez not simply as a past leader, but as an immortal hero whose spirit continues to watch over them and offer them protection. One participant stated, “What we have is an affective connection. What other leaders could have done will stay in the past. But with Chávez the connection will live on in each person.” A second proclaimed:

For me, Chávez was, and will always be, my hero. Not because he fought for one person, but because he fought for an entire nation. He was the hero of all those who needed him and even those who didn’t, because for him there was no distinction. He didn’t see who was rich and who was poor, he helped everyone … for me he was a hero, everything about him. He gave all of himself to the country, he died for the country. Because even in his sickness he continued to fight for us. For me, that’s what a hero is.

A third stated, “I am Chavista because I believe in Chávez. Because I believe in what he says … that’s the way it is and the way it will be. I believe in him and that’s why I’m Chavista.” A fourth participant noted, “I am Chavista because I am committed to the revolution, Chávez and Bolívar.” Speaking about the future, another participant said, “I am Chavista because I am convinced that, in every way, we are going to move forward.” Another replied, “I am with the future, and it’s with Chavismo that we’re going to get it.” As illustrated by these statements, participants demonstrated an understanding of the world that revolved around Chávez. Their perception of the founder as an everlasting savior also indicates that he remains the central protagonist of the movement, even in death. The participants’ use of the present and future tenses to describe Chávez further attest to his ongoing influence on their worldview and suggest the potential of their personalistic identity to survive in the future.

Interestingly, participants shielded Chávez’s sanctified image from the regime’s poor performance under his handpicked successor, Nicolás Maduro. For example, participants critical of Maduro isolated the successor from Chávez’s heroic reputation. As one stated, “When you heard [Chávez] speak, at least when he gave announcements, you always stopped everything to watch his announcement. Maduro, in contrast … I don’t agree with him, it’s a shame that he’s the one that represents Chavismo now.” Another participant sadly expressed, “Maduro hasn’t followed Chávez’s legacy, he hasn’t been able to.” Additionally, while praising Chávez as a beloved hero, participants did not hesitate to disparage Maduro with titles such as “donkey,” “rag doll,” and “puppet.”¹¹

Crucially, these participants clarified that their disappointment in Maduro did not compromise their commitment to the movement or their faith in the founder. One said, “Like I told you, I am Chavista, I was Chavista, and I will continue being Chavista but I am not with Maduro.” Two participants further explained, “Maduro is a bad Chavista”; “we are more Chavista than Maduro is.” Participants across the three anti-Maduro focus groups agreed with this phrasing, as reflected in the following exchange:

Moderator: Just so I can understand, let me be the devil’s advocate. Maduro is Chavista. Is he a bad Chavista?

All: He’s a bad Chavista.

Moderator: He is the son of Chávez, I recall. Didn’t Chávez say that?

Participant 1: All of us are children of Chávez. Here, we are all children of Chávez.

While claiming ongoing attachments to Chávez, these participants denied that Maduro held a special place as Chávez’s successor.

In contrast to anti-Maduro participants, their pro-Maduro counterparts did not openly decry the successor’s performance. Nevertheless, participants supportive of Maduro acknowledged his weaknesses and admitted he was incapable of replacing the founder. For example, when the moderator asked what participants thought about the popular refrain, “Maduro isn’t Chávez,” one participant responded, “Well, it’s the truth. He isn’t Chávez but, I’m telling you, he’s following [Chávez’s] legacy. Obviously, he’s a different person and he’s not going to be equal to Chávez, because nobody ever will.” A second stated, “I feel that something is lacking [in Maduro], he lacks that extra urge to make things advance, the capacity that [Chávez] had … it’s one of the things that has emboldened the opposition, that Maduro isn’t Chávez, nobody will be like Chávez, it will be difficult for anyone to equal him.” A third explained, “[Maduro] isn’t a leader as such. But he was the person that Chávez confided in enough to leave in his place, and that gives [Maduro] a vote of confidence above and beyond. He’s charismatic, not as much as Chávez obviously, but then again, there is no comparison.” A fourth declared, “Maduro, as president, I don’t see him … not like Chávez, because he’s never going to be like Chávez. But he’s learned some things from Chávez. What I see is that he wants to be strong but he has a heart that’s too soft. He isn’t like Chávez.” While these participants spoke of Maduro in more favorable terms, they struggled to compare him to Chávez and, to varying degrees, also expressed disappointment with his leadership.

Most importantly, regardless of their feelings toward Maduro, all participants stressed that their loyalty to the movement remains rooted in Chávez. As one stated, “There is a misunderstanding. You know that when Maduro comes to power … he comes to power with Chávez, as the son of Chávez, and that’s why we call him Chavista … I defend [Maduro] but we aren’t Maduristas … we are Chavistas.” Another declared, “It’s like this. If we are waiting in line to buy food or medicine … the name you hear is Chávez, not Maduro. Of course, if I had to vote another time, I would vote for Maduro, [but it would be] a vote of faith because Chávez supported him. When we’re in the street, we speak in terms of Chávez.” These individuals’ resolute defense of the founder demonstrates that his charisma continues to protect him from the decline of his own performance during his lifetime as well as the disastrous performance of his successor, whom he personally entrusted with the people’s well-being. Moreover, the followers’ ongoing support for the movement, independent of their feelings toward Maduro, underscores the resilience of their devotion and suggests the capacity of the movement to sustain itself during periods of weakness.

The Cleavage between Chavistas and Anti-Chavistas

In addition to declaring their commitment to the everlasting spirit of Chávez, participants across the six focus groups expressed strong aversion toward opponents of Chavismo, revealing the continued importance of the second aspect of the symbolic narrative: the demarcation of in- and out-groups. Indeed, participants depicted the world as divided into two discrete categories: the poor, virtuous people of Chávez, on the one hand, and the privileged, selfish enemies of his movement, on the other. To illustrate this divide, the participants referred to the former group (with which they all identified) using labels such as “poor,” “people,” and “family.” In contrast, they used terms including “rich,” “squalid ones,” “liars,” and “agents of the right,” to describe Chávez’s critics.¹²

Furthermore, participants in all focus groups – including those critical of Maduro – viewed the opposition as complicit in the economic crisis, which many referred to as an “economic war.” For example, in one focus group, participants discussed how “private companies and the opposition” intentionally hoard products in order to undermine Chavismo’s mission to help the people:

Participant 1: [The private companies and the opposition] have the products, but they hoard them.

Participant 2: I don’t know how they do it. I bought baby formula last Wednesday and already there isn’t any more.

Participant 1: Well, they’ve hoarded it. That’s the economic war.

Participant 3: In a video clip, I don’t know if you all saw it on channel 8, it lasted about 5 or 10 minutes … it showed a label in the background, “Empresas Polar, Secretary,” and I don’t know what else. It turns out that the company lowers its production levels on important dates, like when there are protests and elections. Why? So that people think [the scarcity of goods] is the government’s fault and the people suffer more.¹³

A participant from a different focus group depicted a similar understanding of the world as divided into two groups waging an all-out battle: victimized Chavistas versus greedy, powerful enemies:

Well, at work I know a lot of people with money, with resources, and even they say that the big companies are part of this economic war. Those same people with money, they are the ones who run things and it’s always going to be like that, that’s why they’ve gotten together to form a group. Very powerful people that want to oust Maduro, they got together and they’re going to try to do away with him.

In addition to large companies and their executives, participants described members of the opposition in daily, personal interactions as selfish and hostile. To illustrate the difference between the two groups, one participant explained, “If you are rich and I am poor, who says that you should be able to have air conditioning, but not me? That’s what Chávez was about.” A second described the ongoing division between Chavistas and anti-Chavistas in her neighborhood. She said, “I used to live in Llanito, where they were very Chavista and spontaneous. Where I moved, everyone is squalid. I keep quiet but you know, because they are suspicious.”

Interestingly, a set of pro-Maduro participants spoke bitterly of self-proclaimed Chavistas who had abandoned Maduro, accusing these individuals of being opposition members who were “disguised as Chavistas.” One such participant stated, “These [disguised Chavistas] are the ones who have the most.” Another condemned this group for “going down the path of the [political] Right.” As these statements suggest, the stark division between virtuous followers and selfish opponents emphasized by Chávez’s narrative became an intrinsic component of the followers’ identification with his movement.

Faith in the Mission of Transcendence

Finally, participants exuberantly proclaimed their commitment to Chávez’s mission to “free” his righteous community of followers from the malevolent opposition. One participant stated, “Chávez awakened his people, who were in darkness and gloom.” Another said, “Chávez gifted us a country that he wanted to be free. Where am I? I am here with him and his people. We are the country, we are his people.” Another declared, “As the people, we have to awaken and we have to maintain a vision of everything Hugo Chávez Frías did … He was a national leader, a global leader. And why do I say he is still a leader today? Because even though he isn’t with us physically, his legacy continues, just like he thought it would, with us as his people giving the movement continuity.”

Participants further expressed their belief in Chávez’s mission of salvation when asked to draw a picture of what Chavismo meant to them. In fact, in all focus groups, participants drew images to express their love for the movement and their sincere belief that Chávez would bring them a better future. As one participant described, “I drew a map of Venezuela covered in a heart, which represents the unity of all of us. For me Chávez is the country, all of us, with health, family, independence, [and] riches.” Another drew a staircase climbing toward paradise. Describing her illustration, she claimed, “We are advancing, although the other side doesn’t want to see it, we are advancing.” The participants’ effusiveness toward Chávez and his community of followers show that in-group cohesion remains strong even in his absence. Moreover, the drawings depicting a transcendent future suggested that the followers remain committed to Chávez’s mission of transcendence and are optimistic that a new leader – one who is “charismatic,” “strong,” “extraordinarily capable,” “incorruptible,” and “100 percent Chavista” – will eventually take his place.

4.2.2.2 Argentina

In Argentina, focus group discussions with self-identified Peronists suggested that the symbolic narrative underlying these citizens’ charismatic attachments continues to uphold their identification with the movement. Indeed, despite the passage of more than four decades since Perón’s death, the focus group participants indicated that they sustain genuine, emotional attachments to the founder and his movement. Furthermore, regardless of whether or not participants supported Néstor and Cristina Kirchner, the most recent leaders of Peronism, they expressed their relationship to the movement in terms consistent with the founder’s narrative, indicating its central role in the perpetuation of their attachments and identity.

The Glorification of the Founder

To begin, participants praised the charismatic founder and his captivating second wife, Eva, as archetypal leaders. When asked to describe ideal characteristics of a leader, participants in all seven focus groups quickly referenced (Juan) Perón – and often Eva – by name. Moreover, when asked to evaluate contemporary leaders, participants consistently categorized the leaders from best to worst on a scale from “most” to “least” Peronist, always placing Perón and Eva at the top. These gestures indicate that participants’ understanding of politics and, in particular, their evaluations of politicians, remained anchored in the glorified image of the charismatic founders.

In addition, while acknowledging that Perón ruled long ago, participants insisted that his heroic legacy remained fundamental to the movement’s contemporary identity. For instance, when asked to explain what Peronism is, one stated, “Everything is Perón, Perón, Perón … the point is Perón, always reflecting all [socioeconomic] classes. Perón is immense.” Another said, “The first thing that comes to mind is Perón and Evita.” A third answered, “Peronism refers to Perón.” A fourth declared, “Let’s get to the point, we are talking about Perón.” When the moderator prompted, “Is Peronism alive today?” another participant explained that, even when Argentina is governed by non-Peronists (such as Mauricio Macri, the President of Argentina at the time the focus groups were conducted), “Perón is there. He’s dormant, but he’s out there.” In short, regardless of participants’ opinions of subsequent leaders of the movement, an enthusiastic consensus emerged across the focus groups regarding the sacred status of Perón and Eva, suggesting that the followers’ identity remains anchored in the sanctified image of the founding couple.

Notably, disagreements emerged between pro- and anti-Kirchner participants regarding whether different successors of Perón qualified as “true Peronists.” Pro-Kirchner participants perceived Néstor and Cristina Kirchner as heroes and genuine successors of Perón and Eva, and thus claimed fervent attachments to the contemporary leading couple. As one pro-Kirchner participant stated, “Néstor embodies Perón and Cristina embodies Evita.” Another described, “To this very day, Perón and Eva are present, Cristina [and Néstor] too.” When the moderator asked if Cristina tried to copy Eva, one group of pro-Kirchner participants responded:

Participant 1: Yes, but [Eva and Cristina] are part of the same base.

Participant 2: I think Eva and Perón were the masters, and through that [the Kirchners] made their own project, but using the same base, in different time periods and with a different situation for the people.

Participant 3: I think that Cristina, being a woman, followed Evita as an example. But Evita always had Perón at her side; Perón was in politics and Evita was with the people. Cristina had to do it all by herself [after Néstor died], at one time she did it all with Néstor, but then she had to go it alone.¹⁴

Participants in other pro-Kirchner focus groups echoed these sentiments, stating that the Kirchners “represented a new expression of Peronism,” “drew inspiration” from Peronism, and “wrote another chapter of the same [Peronist] guidebook.”

Remarkably, the pro-Kirchner youth, who had only inherited memories of Juan and Eva Perón indirectly from older generations, also described the founders as directly influencing the Kirchners’ leadership. One youth stated, “The two leading couples that are here for the youth and the adults today are Perón and Evita, Néstor and Cristina.” Another explained, “The thing is, we grew up with the [Kirchner] model. We know that Kirchnerismo comes from Peronism, but it is an updated Peronism, one that is with the people, that is more combative.” A third replied, “We are living Peronism through Kirchnerismo.”

Conversely, anti-Kirchner participants expressed disappointment in Cristina and her husband and thus felt no attachment to these successors. These participants felt deeply offended that the Kirchners had the nerve to call themselves “Peronist.” Referring to the Kirchners, one such participant stated, “there are many fake Peronists, who hang onto the Peronist label, who carry the Peronist flag.” Another explained:

I think that [the legacy of Perón and Eva] … is a virtuous path and that it could come to manifest itself once again. But what makes me furious is … seeing pictures where Perón and Evita are next to Néstor and Cristina (whom I hate), comparing the pictures … crazy, no, why would you dirty [the founders’ image] like that?

Likewise, when asked what Kirchnerismo and Peronism have in common, another group of anti-Kirchner participants responded as follows:

Participant 1: Nothing

Participant 2: Nothing

Participant 3: The little picture [of Juan and Eva] in the background

Participant 4: There are a lot of thieves in Kirchnerismo

Participant 5: They take advantage of Peronism and the ideal of social equality to make themselves look good, but the way they operate is very different. Peronism prioritized the worker’s rights. Kirchnerismo only takes money away from the worker.

Furthermore, whereas pro-Kirchner participants applauded Cristina for drawing inspiration from Eva, anti-Kirchner participants viewed this behavior as a horrific and unsuccessful attempt to mimic their beloved Eva. Indeed, when asked if Cristina attempted to copy Eva, participants replied, “Yeah, she tried, but she didn’t succeed by a long shot”; “She tried to dress and speak like [Eva], but she didn’t actually imitate her”; “Cristina wanted to be like Eva, but she doesn’t have a single hair in common with Eva. [Cristina] is an old walking idiot.”

Due to their extreme disappointment in contemporary, “so-called” Peronist leaders, many anti-Kirchner participants referred to themselves as “Peronists of Perón,” emphasizing that they drew inspiration from and claimed attachments to the movement’s founders rather than from subsequent leaders, whom they labeled “false,” “fraudulent,” and “disguised” Peronists. For example, one participant stated, “Perón is the motor that keeps the country going.” Another said, “I feel Peronist, of the original Peronism. If I had been born earlier [during Perón’s era], I would be ultra-Peronist.” Crucially, these disillusioned participants sustained their personal identification with Peronism in spite of their disappointment with the movement’s subsequent leaders. Thus, while describing themselves as genuine Peronists, the participants referred to successors – including Carlos Menem and the Kirchners – as traitors of the movement.

However, despite disagreements between pro- and anti-Kirchner Peronists regarding the status of Peronist successors, similarities across the two sets of participants prevailed. For example, both sets of participants labeled leaders with no claim to Peronism, such as Elisa Carrió and Mauricio Macri, as anti-Peronist and expressed uniform disgust toward such politicians. As described earlier, pro- and anti-Kirchner participants also held the original founders – Juan and Eva – in the highest regard, demonstrating that the charismatic duo continues to serve as a moral compass and a lens through which to interpret politics for pro- and anti-Kirchner followers alike.

The Cleavage between Peronists and Anti-Peronists

Next, similar to Chavistas in Venezuela, participants across the seven focus groups described their world as divided into two categories: the virtuous yet excluded “people” (pueblo) whom Peronism defends, on the one hand, and the enemies of the people, on the other. Participants, who all identified themselves as part of the former group, referred to fellow Peronists as “comrades” (compañeros).¹⁵ In contrast, they associated non-Peronist sectors with conspiratorial elites seeking to further marginalize the poor, and frequently referred to opposition members as “gorillas” (gorilas), “rich,” and “oligarchs.”¹⁶ As one group of participants said:

Moderator: If I say “gorillas,” whom am I talking about?

Participant 1: Anti-Peronism

Participant 2: The Right

Participant 3: Gorilla is like River if Peronist is Boca.¹⁷

Participant 4: It reminds me of something that affected me deeply, what happened with the cadaver of Eva Perón. I never understood why [the opposition] would be so bitter about a woman who did so much good for the country.¹⁸

In addition to ordinary citizens, participants in several focus groups demonized leaders whom they felt had directly attacked or betrayed the legacy of Perón. For example, several participants referred to leaders whom they disliked – ranging from Menem and the Kirchners to Macri, the current president – as “unmentionables,” “weaklings,” and “puppets.” When asked what feelings these leaders evoked, participants offered labels including “darkness,” “horror,” “poverty,” and “shame.” As described earlier, anti-Kirchner Peronists described Néstor and Cristina using these terms. But even pro-Kirchner Peronists categorized “good” (Peronist) and “bad” (anti-Peronist) leaders in similarly polarized terms. For example, pro-Kirchner participants depicted Cristina (like Eva) as a hero and defender of “true Argentines” fighting against selfish, anti-patriotic elites. These participants further applauded “Cristina’s confrontation” with her critics, whom they perceived as existential threats to the well-being of the people. In short, regardless of their opinions about the Kirchners, all focus group participants described their world as divided into two groups – Peronists and anti-Peronists – suggesting that this cleavage continues to drive their identification with the movement.

Faith in the Mission of Transcendence

Finally, consistent with the symbolic narrative, focus group participants described Peronist leaders as responsible for transforming society and delivering a prosperous future. This sentiment was particularly fresh for pro-Kirchner participants, who felt that Néstor and Cristina, with Perón and Eva’s blessing, were fulfilling this redemptive mission. “With Néstor and Cristina, we had a future!” cried one participant. While anti-Kirchner individuals had a more cynical view of contemporary politics, they described the period when Perón and Eva governed as a golden age. “Perón kept this country afloat,” one participant remarked; another explained that, under Perón, the people had “food and options. The people always had something to eat, and if you wanted to work, you could do it, you had the possibility of becoming something more.” While both sets of participants felt that Argentina had fallen from grace – either long ago (for anti-Kirchner groups) or recently with Macri’s electoral victory (for pro-Kirchner groups) – they expressed the common belief that true leaders are devoted to carrying out the mission of Perón: to rescue the followers from their misery and provide material and spiritual transcendence. One pro-Kirchner participant even said, in earnest, “the other day I ran into to a girl at church, and she said a prophet had told her that a new Néstor was going to come save the country.” And although participants agreed that no such leader was in power during the time that the focus groups were conducted, they expressed hope that such a leader would eventually appear, reunite the movement, and don their beloved founder’s mantle.

In sum, the focus group conversations in both Venezuela and Argentina revealed that the symbolic narrative cultivated by Perón and Chávez, respectively, has continued to shape citizens’ identification with the movement. First, in both countries, participants indicated that they still claim attachments to the founder and worship him as their ultimate savior. Though opinions of subsequent leaders of the movement varied – especially in Argentina, where Cristina Kirchner has had a particularly polarizing effect – participants across the board agreed that the founder represents the archetypal charismatic leader and savior of the people. Second, participants in both countries described the world as separated into two groups: one consisting of virtuous movement supporters and a second made up of privileged, out-of-touch, and nefarious opponents. Participants consistently identified with the former group while expressing distrust of the latter, indicating that these in- and out-groups remain intrinsic to their identity. Third, participants expressed faith in the founder’s mission of societal transformation and hoped that a new leader would rise and pick up the founder’s mantle. Importantly, even anti-Kirchner participants, who expressed disillusionment with contemporary politics and politicians, expressed longing for a new leader to appear and carry out the founder’s mission to provide a better future.

4.3 Results: The Personalistic Mechanism of Identity Perpetuation

The previous section described the crucial role of the symbolic narrative for turning citizens’ deep, emotional attachments to the charismatic founder into a resilient political identity. The present section uses evidence from participants’ individual accounts to illustrate the mechanism through which the followers perpetuate this narrative and identity once the founder has died. Specifically, I show that, by retelling stories about personal experiences under the founder’s rule (and, in some cases, telling stories about experiences under the rule of successors) and preserving sacred objects to commemorate the founder’s heroic leadership, the followers sustain direct ties to the founder and maintain their faith in his redemptive mission.

4.3.1 Venezuela

Participants in the Venezuelan focus groups shared cherished memories of their lives during Chávez’s presidency. In particular, their accounts highlighted the deeply personal and unmediated nature of their connections to the leader. For example, one participant recounted:

When I was little, I remember in my house they always spoke a lot about Chávez, and I remember when I was 5 or 6 years old, he was in the neighborhood where I lived, out on the soccer field … I said, “I want you to take me, I want you to take me,” until my family took me and I had the honor of holding Chávez’s hand. I was so little and I gave him my hand … I remember clearly, I was little and they held me up and I had Chávez in front of me and he gave me a bag of toys and I will never forget it.

A second participant recalled meeting Chávez in similar circumstances, when the founder passed through the participant’s neighborhood. Describing the encounter, the participant said:

I liked having him in front of me, I admired him as a person, for everything he was and for everything he had become. And really, when I see him it makes me proud, to know Chávez … he is the one supporting me in practically everything, he is the one who is lifting my foot out of the mud.

Notably, this participant switched to present tense when talking about Chávez, suggesting the ongoing spiritual presence of the leader in his life.

Several other participants across the six focus groups shared stories about their personal encounters with Chávez. They consistently reported these events as sentimental and even transformative experiences, as reflected in the following exchange:

Participant 1: When I saw Chávez for the first time, I was an opponent of his movement, 100%. But I happened to go to an event … and people said, “Here comes Chávez!” and I saw him riding in on a truck. He was already sick at the time, greeting the people, and it gave me goose bumps. It was really something … I mean, he was such an extraordinary human being, and when he passed in front of you, your hair stood on end … it was something strange.

Moderator: Is that the moment when you became Chavista?

Participant 1: Listen. In that moment he got my attention … He stepped out of the presidential protocol, came to the streets and put himself in a poor neighborhood. There, he spoke with the little old ladies and the people … so he got my attention and I said, “this guy is a leader, that is how you govern!” And from that moment on I have been Chavista.

Participant 2: The same thing happened to me. He came to my neighborhood and I got goose bumps. He came really close to me because I was pressed up against the railings. He was so close … I felt a really good vibe and my hair stood on end.

In addition to stressing their personal closeness with Chávez, the participants’ stories also emphasized the founder’s extraordinary capacity to resolve their suffering. For example, two participants in separate focus groups said they had written letters to Chávez pleading him to help their sick family members. Both participants claimed that Chávez personally returned their phone calls to arrange treatments for their loved ones. Several others discussed receiving health, nutritional, and educational benefits directly from Chávez, as illustrated in the following conversation:

Moderator: Did you know anyone that Chávez helped directly?

All: Yes.

Moderator: Tell me, whom did you know, whom Chávez helped directly?

Participant 1: The pensioners, my grandma. He gave her a pension even though she never worked. That was direct assistance.

Participant 2: He gave spine surgery to an aunt of mine. He gave her money for the operation.

Participant 3: He gave to my sister, thank God. Today she has a home, thanks to the housing mission. And my brother-in-law is in the army and has a job.

Participant 4: One of my neighbors too, she has a daughter who is special needs and he helped her directly, taking her out of the society we lived in, and he gave her another house and medical services that she needed.

Participant 5: My godfather, for example, he had cancer and there was a time when he was very delicate and he got a wheelchair, a stretcher and all kinds of things, through a mission.

Moderator: And did Chávez give these things, or did he simply establish the mission, which made it possible for your godfather to exercise his right to get the things?

Participant 5: Well, ok, healthcare is a right, but my mom tells me that before [Chávez] the government didn’t do that kind of thing for the needy, even though it was a right … no other president would go through the trouble of helping you, unlike Chávez. For Chávez, it was a duty, and he followed through with that duty.

These statements show that participants perceived Chávez as single-handedly responsible for tangibly improving their loved ones’ lives. Even if their family members received help from missions he established rather than from Chávez himself, the participants viewed the assistance as a personal gift from their beloved leader.

As the participants told these stories, their deep affection for Chávez seemed to reignite itself. Indeed, as described earlier, many spoke of “getting goose bumps” and “good vibes.” Some participants even began to cry as they expressed their love for Chávez, especially when sharing stories about his death. One emotionally described, “It’s incredible, because when he died … it was awe-inspiring to see how the people cried. And when his body passed by [during the funeral procession] I also cried. And you saw all the people there, so many people, and it’s not like the opposition says, that they were paid. They never gave me anything.” Another said, “When Chávez died … you asked how Chávez’s death affected the people … I felt it in my heart. I cried.” Though Chávez died several years before the focus groups were conducted, these sentimental expressions made clear that the participants’ cherished memories of the founder perpetuated their unmediated, personalistic, and profoundly affective bonds with the leader and his movement.

In addition to personal stories, the Venezuelan participants mentioned keeping various objects that symbolized their personal connections to Chávez. Several claimed to own T-shirts embossed with an image of the founder. One explained that wearing the shirt made her feel “a respect, an admiration … he is like a brand, for me. Instead of saying Adidas or Columbia, it says Chávez.” Others described hanging up photographs and posters to commemorate the founder. Still others claimed to keep maps and flags of Venezuela as a reminder of how Chávez had liberated the country. In each of these cases, participants reported displaying the objects with great pride – especially in the face of the movement’s critics – as symbols of their continued loyalty to Chávez’s movement.

4.3.2 Argentina

In contrast to Venezuela, where Chávez recently passed away, the focus groups in Argentina were conducted decades after Perón’s death. Nevertheless, the resulting discussions suggested that, as in Venezuela, personal stories and symbols play an essential role in the perpetuation of followers’ personalistic identification with Peronism.

Crucially, Argentine participants’ stories emphasized personal interactions that their loved ones – namely, parents and grandparents – had had with Perón and Eva during Perón’s original rule, suggesting those individuals had profound attachments to the founder and his wife. In particular, participants highlighted the direct, miraculous impact of the founders’ deeds on their relatives’ lives. One participant described, “I have been Peronist since I was in my mother’s belly. My grandmother was a cook for Perón.” For this participant, the grandmother’s role as a cook for Perón seemed reason enough to justify his own loyalty to the movement decades later. Another participant explained, “Ever since I met my spouse, Perón was burned onto my brain; I listened to all of Evita’s speeches.” Another told a heartfelt story of how she became Peronist through her parents’ experience:

I am Peronist because … I came from working parents, they built their house themselves and had six daughters … I am Peronist because of all of the benefits my father had. We were born in private clinics, like it should be – born in private clinics and not [public] maternity wards. We studied. The benefits my father had, for example, to be able to go on vacations during the summer, to go camping … my father was Peronist, my mother even more so. She told us about different things, about neighbors who received sewing machines and other things from Evita. Even if my parents didn’t receive a house paid for by the government, [Perón and Eva] made it possible for them to build a house for themselves. So, when you have grown up with that kind of foundation, at least for me, I am Peronist.

Another participant explained:

I am Peronist because my grandma and my mom lived during that time [of Perón and Eva] and they speak to me of miracles. I decided to investigate for myself in books and I concluded that I agreed with the social and economic ideals of Peronism. For example, in the economic sphere, they took care of the peon, let’s call it. And in the social sphere, because Perón was a very charismatic leader and his charisma brought him closer to the people.

While this participant claimed to be Peronist due to “social and economic ideals,” his description of those ideals reflected Perón’s unmediated, charismatic – rather than programmatic – relationship with the poor. Several other participants told similarly vivid, emotional stories of grandparents who personally met and received things from Perón and Eva, such as a small toy “that had been made for the rich,” a sewing machine, and a job as a nurse in Eva’s first hospital. While they did not directly experience the founders’ heroic acts, the participants appeared to cultivate affectionate connections to Perón and Eva vicariously, through stories passed down by their loved ones.

In addition to celebrating the founders as saviors, participants told stories of their interactions with subsequent leaders whom they considered to be genuine heirs of Perón and Eva. These participants noted that they personally benefited from the successors, and therefore considered the leaders to be “true Peronists.” For example, one participant stated, “I am Peronist because Perón gave my grandfather his first job, Menem gave my father his first car, and Néstor gave me my first job.” Another participant claimed to be Peronist because of the benefits she received from Menem and Cristina:

Participant: I am Kirchnerista, but I think that you can’t separate Kirchernismo and Peronism. It’s just that I am living today and Peronism … when I was a child …

Moderator: You weren’t even alive yet … you must have been born the year that Perón died.

Participant: I got married when I was young, so we experienced Peronism with Menem. During those years we were doing really well. And with Cristina too … My husband collects bicycles, and in the age of Menem we had five bicycles, with Cristina we had three, and now [under Macri] we don’t have any.

Another participant who prospered during Menem’s presidency painted a romantic vision of Menem riding on horseback to save the country during the 1988 electoral campaign – an image not unlike those described by Venezuelan participants of Chávez riding into their neighborhoods atop a truck. Similarly, a third participant shed tears when he recalled how he got a job that saved him after the 2001 crisis “thanks to Néstor.” A fourth emotionally exclaimed that she supported the Kirchners due to their similarities with Perón and Eva. After listing various material goods that she and her family had received “thanks to Cristina,” ranging from medicine to food to DVD players, she stated, “I am Kirchnerista because [Néstor and Cristina] help the people from below, the poor people, and this is very similar to what my mother experienced in the time of Perón and Evita.”

In short, though participants disagreed with each other regarding whether Menem, Néstor Kirchner, and Cristina Kirchner deserved the label of “true Peronist,” they appeared to judge the three successors based on the same criterion: the leader’s personal provision of material benefits to the participants (or their relatives). The participants suggested that stories of each leader’s largesse served as proof of the leader’s love for the people and, correspondingly, his/her ability to fulfill the Peróns’ legacy. These cherished memories of the leaders – which, notably, were shared after all three successors had fallen from power – clearly played a central role in sustaining the participants’ identification with the movement.¹⁹

In addition to recounting stories of their interactions with the movement’s heroic leaders, many participants reported safekeeping symbols that reminded them of these leaders and their mission of salvation. One participant proudly declared that he still had the sewing machine that Eva gave to his grandmother. Another claimed she saved the toy scale – a “rich people’s toy” – that Perón had given to her grandfather during a campaign visit to La Rioja. Other participants saved objects in homage to subsequent movement leaders. For example, several kept T-shirts they had worn when attending rallies with Cristina Kirchner. Some participants in every focus group also reported that they kept photographs of movement leaders – from Juan and Eva Perón to Néstor and Cristina Kirchner – in their homes. The participants noted that they kept these pictures in important places, such as beside their beds or on shelves with portraits of their family members. As indicated in the subsequent discussion, participants suggested that they cherished their photographs of Peronist leaders and considered the leaders to be members of their inner circles:

Participant 1: I have a photograph of Perón and Eva that was given to me. It’s in my bedroom.

Moderator: Do you keep the photo with other pictures? If so, of whom?

Participant 1: I keep it with pictures of my kids and grandparents, my parents, and my godchildren. That’s where I keep a picture of Perón and Eva, together.

Moderator: Who gave the photo to you?

Participant 1: My grandfather, just before he died.

Participant 2: In my house, my parents live upstairs and they have a big picture of Perón. It’s been there for as long as I can remember … it’s next to the image of Christ in my mom’s room.

In a different focus group, a participant further explained the perceived connection between Peronist leaders and family members as follows:

The leader loves his people. He isn’t going to rob them; he is going to work for his people so that they’re ok. It’s like family. One loves his family and does everything to make sure his family is ok. The same thing happens with the government. If the leader loves his people and wants his people to be well, if he values and respects them, he is going to give them even more than they expect.

For many participants, material objects ranging from toys to T-shirts to portraits symbolized the powerful, emotional, and intimate connections they – and, importantly, their parents and grandparents – maintained with their beloved leaders. As indicated by these examples, even decades after Perón’s death, symbols have continued to play an important role in perpetuating Peronist followers’ affective and unmediated identification with the movement and profound attachments to its leaders.

4.4 Conclusion

This chapter has demonstrated that the survival of charismatic attachments depends primarily on the followers’ adherence to the symbolic narrative. Specifically, the movement’s superhuman portrayal of the founder, demonization of opponents, and mission of societal transformation form the core of followers’ resilient identification with the movement. After the founder’s death, the followers sustain this identity through stories and symbols that celebrate the narrative and preserve the affective power and directness of the followers’ connections to the founder (and, in the case of Argentina, to subsequent leaders). This finding contrasts markedly with the logic of routinization, which suggests that charismatic movements must renounce their personalistic nature and transform into sophisticated party organizations to survive after the death of the founder.

Evidence from thirteen focus groups conducted with the followers of Chavismo and Peronism, respectively, indicate the relevance of the personalistic mechanism to movement survival. In Venezuela, participants enthusiastically demonstrated the vitality and emotional intensity of their attachments to Chávez and his movement three years after the death of the founder. Their ongoing devotion – and their ability to shield it from the deplorable performance of Chávez’s handpicked successor, Nicolás Maduro – is a testament to the power and resilience of their loyalty to the movement. In Argentina, participants’ profoundly sentimental attachments to Juan and Eva Perón are equally impressive, given that the founding couple has been dead for decades. Participants’ tendency to compare subsequent leaders to Juan and Eva Perón – whether to praise the successors or to disparage them – further indicates that these citizens still use their Peronist identity as a lens for understanding the world and judging politicians.

As suggested by the results in Argentina, while followers’ personalistic identification with the movement can survive for years or even decades, the political salience of their identity can fade with the prolonged absence of a charismatic leader. While sustaining loyalty to the movement and founder, followers can become increasingly disillusioned with politics during periods in which no leader seems capable of fulfilling the founder’s mission to deliver them prosperity. However, because these individuals continue to interpret the world through the lens of their personalistic identity, they maintain hope that a strong leader will eventually appear, pick up the founder’s baton, and rescue society once more. As I will show in the next chapter, leaders who appear to embody the founder’s charismatic qualities are capable of reactivating the followers’ attachments and restoring the movement to power in their own name.

5 The Reactivation of Charismatic Attachments

Thus far, this book has investigated the revival of charismatic movements from the perspective of the followers. Chapter 3 demonstrated how unmediated, emotional attachments form between the followers and their heroic leader, while Chapter 4 illustrated how these bonds develop into an enduring identity that continues to shape followers’ worldview after the leader dies. Because this identity remains anchored in the supporters’ direct, emotional connections to the leader, it shapes their understanding of politics and expectations of future politicians in starkly personalistic terms. Thus, rather than viewing their politicians as ordinary public servants, the followers hold politicians to the standard of the charismatic founder. As reflected in the focus groups conducted with followers of Peronism and Chavismo, these individuals expect new leaders to embody the founder by performing heroic feats, providing tangible benefits, and fulfilling the founder’s mission of transcendence.

In light of these findings, I argue that successors must demonstrate their worthiness of the founder’s mantle in order to satisfy the followers’ expectations and win their support. Specifically, politicians who depict themselves as symbolic reincarnations of the founder have the potential to reactivate the political significance of the followers’ charismatic identity and garner support as new standard-bearers of the movement. This process of reactivating citizens’ attachments, which hinges in large part on the strategies undertaken by new leaders, is essential for the political revival of charismatic movements. Without successors who can harness the emotional power of citizens’ preexisting attachments, the movement is unlikely to reclaim its predominant position in politics.

This chapter investigates the strategies that new leaders must implement to reinvigorate citizens’ deep, affective ties to the movement and garner support. Drawing on insights from studies in political psychology, sociology, leadership, and electoral campaigns, I contend that successors must enact two strategies – one material and one symbolic – to achieve this ambitious task. First, successors must establish their own charisma by proposing and implementing bold policies that translate into tangible benefits for the followers and alleviate widespread suffering. Second, successors must cultivate symbolic ties to the founder to associate their charisma with the founder’s glorified legacy and demonstrate their commitment to fulfilling the founder’s mission to transform the followers’ lives.

To test whether and how new leaders can associate themselves with their charismatic predecessor’s legacy to revive citizens’ affective ties and win political support, I analyze original, face-to-face survey experiments conducted with 999 movement followers in Argentina and Venezuela.¹ Specifically, I construct a 2×2 experimental design in which a potential successor running for president implements (or does not implement) a set of strategic cues related to bold policies and symbolic ties to the founder.

Contrary to studies of routinization, which suggest that charismatic attachments cannot survive in personalistic form beyond the founder’s death, the results indicate that citizens’ deep, emotional ties to Peronism and Chavismo endure. These findings corroborate the focus group evidence from the previous chapter regarding the survival of citizens’ personalistic identification with the movement.

Moreover, in the context of presidential campaigns, the survey experiment reveals that a new leader’s bold, initially successful policies and symbolic ties to the founder can politically reactivate followers’ attachments by intensifying the followers’ positive feelings toward the movement, enhancing their perceptions of the new leader’s charisma, and boosting the leader’s support. In short, these results indicate that, while the personalistic nature of citizens’ attachments remains relatively constant over time, the intensity of those attachments can shift based on the coming and going of new leaders who claim to embody the founder.

The remainder of the chapter develops and tests my theory on new leaders’ reactivation of the followers’ charismatic attachments. In the next section, I briefly review the process through which charismatic attachments between leaders and followers initially develop and explain how new politicians can reactivate those ties to garner support. I then lay out the hypotheses, design, and results of the survey experiment conducted in Argentina and Venezuela. Finally, I discuss the substantive implications of the findings. In subsequent chapters, I examine the conditions that shape new leaders’ capacity to enact these strategies of reactivation and analyze how, together, these strategies and conditions cause charismatic movements to develop fitful trajectories that undermine the development of stable, programmatic party systems.

5.1 A Theory of Charismatic Attachment Reactivation

5.1.1 A Review of Attachment Formation

I begin by reviewing the three conditions that the founders must satisfy to initially establish charismatic bonds with their followers. These conditions are important because they inform the strategies that successors use later on to reactivate the attachments. First, the founder directly recognizes the suffering of citizens who feel they have been excluded by mainstream society. The founder focuses on these individuals because their unfavorable circumstances make them more likely to look for a savior to rescue them (Bandura 1982; Madsen and Snow 1991; Merolla and Zechmeister 2011; Spruyt, Keppens, and Van Droogenbroeck 2016; Weyland 2003).

Second, to secure these citizens’ devotion, the founder demonstrates the capacity to single-handedly resolve their misery. Specifically, he must provide “proof” of his charismatic power by promising and implementing bold policies that showcase seemingly miraculous abilities (Pappas 2012; Weber 1922/1978, 242). From the followers’ perspective, the daring character and capacity of these policies to confer material benefits – rather than programmatic content and long-term sustainability of the policies – are essential for substantiating the leader’s extraordinary abilities. Once implemented, these policies confirm the founder’s superhuman image and can temporarily protect him from subsequent drops in performance (Merolla and Zechmeister 2011, 30).

Third, the leader cultivates a narrative that glorifies his position as the people’s savior, demonizes opposing groups as enemies blocking the people’s path to salvation, and stresses the founder’s promise to transform the society and deliver prosperity to the followers. This narrative, which frames the leader’s mission as an all-out battle against evil forces, infuses followers’ attachments with a profound moral intensity. Thus, the followers’ support for the leader rests not just on much-needed recognition and tangible goods, but also on a deep sense of righteousness that inspires religious devotion to the leader, whom the followers come to view as brave and selfless (Zúquete 2008, 106).

As shown in Chapter 4, the founder’s narrative is especially important for the survival of charismatic movements because it develops citizens’ initial attachments into an enduring and deeply personalistic identity. This identity, in turn, shapes the followers’ worldview, reinforces their belief in the founder’s mission of ultimate salvation, and thus influences their political preferences and expectations even after the founder has disappeared. In particular, the identity provides citizens with a “framework that allows [them] … to make sense of social, political, and economic conditions” that occurred in the past, are unfolding in the present, or are yet to occur (Abdelal et al. 2009, 24–25). It also gives these individuals “ways of recognizing, identifying, and classifying other people, of constructing sameness and difference, and of ‘coding’ and making sense of their actions” (Abdelal et al. 2009, 25; Brubaker, Loveman, and Stamatov 2004, 47). As a worldview, then, the followers’ identification with a charismatic leader can shape their perceptions and evaluations of future politicians.

5.1.2 Strategies of Attachment Reactivation

Political psychologists suggest that, over time, various factors can shift the political intensity of a preexisting identity. In other words, the identity can be politically deflated or recharged depending on the circumstances. In the context of charismatic movements, as described in Chapter 4, the prolonged absence of the leader can cause the emotional charge of citizens’ identification with the leader’s charismatic movement to fade. While remaining profoundly attached to the charismatic founder and his redemptive mission, identifiers can become disillusioned with the current political landscape. However, a change in circumstances – specifically, the eruption of a crisis – can make the followers feel threatened and cause them to look for a new savior to rescue them from the situation, which creates the potential for new leaders to reactivate the followers’ attachments to the founder and movement (Huddy 2013, 15, 44; Merolla and Zechmeister 2009a, 27–28; Weyland 2003, 839).

Once a crisis occurs, causing widespread feelings of anxiety and desperation, politicians can strategically manipulate the intensity of citizens’ attachments by portraying themselves as model, “prototypical” members of the group (Huddy 2013, 12, 18). Potential successors have several incentives to engage this strategy. Namely, doing so can strengthen the impact of citizens’ attachments on their political preferences and increase political engagement – the combination of which can mobilize a strong base of support for the new leader (Citrin and Sears 2009, 148; Cramer 2016, 12; Klar 2013, 1108). Moreover, research suggests that successors who depict themselves as symbolic archetypes of the identity – that is, the beloved founder – tend to appear more trustworthy and charismatic to fellow identifiers (Huddy 2013, 18; Haslam, Reicher, and Platow 2011, 96, 101–3; Hogg 2001, 190).

To reactivate citizens’ attachments, new leaders must disseminate cues through speech, symbolic gestures, and policies that associate the core symbols and values of the identity with the current context and the leader’s personal profile (Cramer 2016, 12; Huddy 2013, 12; Klar 2013, 1108; Meléndez and Rovira Kaltwasser 2019, 3). Specifically, I argue that successors who enact two cues – one material and one symbolic – similar to those implemented by the founder can reactivate citizens’ deep, unmediated, emotional ties to the movement. If successfully executed, these cues signal to the followers that the leader embodies the founder and is committed to reviving his mission.

In material terms, successors must promise and enact bold, initially successful policies to prove their extraordinary power to rescue the people. This impressive performance signals their potential to fill the founder’s shoes and convinces the followers that the new leaders are capable of delivering salvation. To demonstrate herculean abilities, the successors’ policies must prioritize the rapid delivery of tangible benefits to the followers over programmatic coherence and sustainability. Though it is difficult for successors to implement this cue at the national level before becoming chief executive, past records of bold, impressive performance as subnational executive officeholders – for example, as governors – can provide followers with an initial cue regarding the successors’ potential to fulfill their heroic promises.

Once implemented, this material cue should cause followers to evaluate the successors’ performance in highly favorable terms. More importantly, however, the cue should reignite the followers’ passion for and identification with the movement by convincing them that an authentic savior has emerged to pick up the founder’s baton and deliver a prosperous future. In other words, more than simply demonstrating good performance, this cue should enhance the followers’ emotional attachments to the movement and increase their charismatic perceptions of the successor.

Symbolically, successors must weave themselves into the founder’s narrative by depicting themselves as true heirs and demonstrating their commitment to his mission of societal transformation. This requires successors to update the original narrative to fit with their personae and the contemporary circumstances. To do so, the leaders emphasize aspects of the founder that they share – such as tone of voice, word choice, dress, and physical gestures – while deemphasizing aspects they do not have in common. Additionally, successors can frame their opponents as traditional enemies of the movement to strengthen followers’ support. They can also portray their policies – whose substantive content may differ from the policies of the founder – as achieving the same end goal: providing the followers with immediate relief and eventual salvation. To enact this set of symbolic cues, successors communicate them through verbal, auditory, and visual channels in order to repeatedly remind the followers of the charismatic founder, reinvigorate the followers’ feelings of excitement for the founder’s transformative mission, and convince the followers that the successors are worthy of the founder’s mantle.

In sum, my theory of charismatic attachment reactivation challenges the logic of routinization, which suggests that these affective bonds must transform into depersonalized linkages to survive and remain politically relevant after the founder disappears. Instead, I contend that the followers sustain a deep, emotional identification with the movement that reinforces their commitment to the founder’s heroic mission to transform society, shapes their worldview, and influences their expectations of future politicians. Subsequent leaders can therefore reactivate followers’ attachments and gain support by (1) promising and implementing bold policies that deliver tangible benefits to the followers and (2) symbolically linking themselves to the charismatic founder and his transformative project.

5.2 Testing the Reactivation of Charismatic Attachments: Evidence from Survey Experiments

I adopt an experimental approach to test the individual and combined effects of successors’ bold policies and symbolic ties on the followers’ expressions of emotional attachment to the movement and support for the heir. In particular, I draw on the priming, cue-taking, and identity literatures from political psychology (Abdelal et al. 2009; Hogg 2001; Klar 2013; Tajfel 1974; Van Vugt and Hart 2004) to design a survey experiment with two manipulations that represent strategic cues enacted by a hypothetical candidate seeking the presidency: bold policies and symbolic ties to the charismatic founder. The first manipulation corresponds to the material cue: the promise and implementation of bold policies. Because it is ultimately the fulfillment of these policies that “proves” the successor’s charisma, I manipulate whether or not the candidate has fulfilled his bold, tangible promises to resolve citizens’ most pressing problems in the past. The second manipulation, which represents the symbolic cue, incorporates visual and auditory symbols that associate the candidate with the charismatic founder of the movement. I construct a 2x2 design with four conditions such that respondents are randomly assigned to receive both, one, or neither of the two cues. Next, I measure the respondents’ expressions of attachment to the movement and support for the successor (see Table 5.1).

Table 5.1. 2 × 2: Experimental conditions and summary of hypotheses

	Presence of Symbolic Ties	Absence of Symbolic Ties
Fulfilled Bold Policies	Fulfilled/Symbol (Expect strong attachment and support for the successor)	Fulfilled/No Symbol (Expect middling attachment and support for the successor)
Unfulfilled Bold Policies	Unfulfilled/Symbol (Expect middling attachment and support for the successor)	Unfulfilled/No Symbol (Expect low attachment and support for the successor)

5.2.1 Hypotheses

Based on my theory, I develop three sets of hypotheses about the combined and marginal effects of bold policies and symbolic ties on followers’ charismatic attachments to the movement and support for the successor.

HI. Candidates who combine the material and symbolic cues can revive citizens’ emotional attachments and garner support more effectively than candidates who implement only one or neither of the two cues. Thus:

1. A. Respondents in the fulfilled/symbol condition will express the strongest attachment to the movement. Specifically, they will identify most intensely with the movement and will express the strongest positive feelings and weakest negative feelings toward the movement.

2. B. Respondents in the fulfilled/symbol condition will express the strongest support for the candidate. Specifically, they will perceive the candidate as most charismatic and will express the strongest intentions to vote for the candidate in future elections.

HII. Both bold policies and symbolic ties to the founder are necessary for successors to fully reactivate citizens’ attachments and garner support. The bold policies demonstrate the successor’s charismatic power, while symbolic ties associate the successors’ heroic capacity with the founder and his redemptive mission. Correspondingly, each of the two cues should not be as effective when applied in isolation. Nevertheless, candidates who implement only one of the two cues should elicit stronger attachment and support than candidates who use neither cue. In short:

1. A. Respondents in the fulfilled/no symbol condition and in the unfulfilled/symbol condition will express stronger attachment to the movement than respondents in the unfulfilled/no symbol condition.

2. B. Respondents in the fulfilled/no symbol condition and in the unfulfilled/symbol condition will express stronger support for the candidate than respondents in the unfulfilled/no symbol condition.

HIII. Finally, symbolic ties increase followers’ support for the candidate because they link the candidate directly to the movement’s charismatic founder and thus intensify the followers’ deep, emotional identification with the movement. Therefore:

1. A. Followers’ identification with the movement will mediate the effect of symbolic ties on support for the candidate.

5.2.2 Participants, Design, and Procedure

In partnership with two local public opinion firms – Trespuntozero in Argentina and Consultores 21 in Venezuela² – I conducted face-to-face survey experiments with a sample of each movement’s most important and consistent base of followers: self-identified Peronist and Chavista adults (18 and older) from the “popular” (lower- and lower-middle-class) sectors.³ While it would be interesting to analyze the impact of successors’ material and symbolic cues on non-followers as well as middle- and upper-class citizens, I limited the scope of the present study due to theoretical expectations and resource constraints. First, I focused on movement followers rather than all citizens because the experiment aims to test the potential reactivation of existing attachments rather than the formation of new attachments among previously unaffiliated individuals. Certainly, political candidates should also endeavor to expand their support base by incorporating new voters. Yet, because the movement followers constitute a sizeable proportion of the population – about one-third of the electorate in both Argentina and Venezuela (Briceño 2015a; Calvo and Murillo 2012) – earning their loyalty provides new leaders an enviable “electoral cushion” (Levitsky 2003, 13–14). To narrow the sample in this way, respondents were asked a screening question in which they indicated which of several political traditions they felt closest to. Those who selected “Peronism” or “Chavismo” were included in the study.⁴

Second, I limited the sample to followers from the popular rather than the middle and upper classes because my theory suggests that socioeconomically marginalized citizens are more likely to experience seemingly unmanageable challenges, suffer disproportionately, and develop feelings of low self-efficacy. Popular-sector citizens are therefore more likely to look for and become emotionally attached to a leader whom they perceive as heroic (Burns 1978 Madsen and Snow 1991). Furthermore, in both Argentina and Venezuela, these low-income citizens make up the largest group of movement followers and a vital source of support for political candidates (Briceño 2015a; Calvo and Murillo 2012). As suggested by public opinion specialists in both countries, education was used as a proxy for socioeconomic status; respondents with less than a college degree were included.⁵

In sum, while the population of interest in this study – movement followers from the popular sectors – is limited, it provides a crucial foundation of support for aspiring political candidates. To approximate a nationally representative sample of this population, the experiment was fielded in three diverse regions of each country: the federal capital and its outskirts, an urban and traditionally anti-Peronist/anti-Chavista region, and a rural, traditionally pro-Peronist/pro-Chavista region (see Table 5.2). Many studies of Peronism and Chavismo focus exclusively on the federal capital, which, while populous and politically important, has distinct characteristics compared to the rest of the country. In contrast, this three-region design better captures the followers’ attitudes and behaviors at the national level, accounting for demographic, cultural, and political variation.

Table 5.2. Characteristics of selected regions

Selection Criteria	Argentina	Venezuela
Federal Capital and Outskirts	Lanús, La Matanza (Province of Buenos Aires)	Caracas (State of Miranda)
Urban, Anti-Peronist/Anti-Chavista Region	Córdoba (Province of Córdoba)	Maracaibo (State of Zulia)
Rural, pro-Peronist/Pro-Chavista region	La Rioja (Province of La Rioja)	Cumaná (State of Sucre)

The survey experiment was designed as follows. Respondents were randomly assigned to one of the four experimental conditions, each of which provided information about a hypothetical governor running for president.⁶ After a set of filter questions intended to restrict the sample to individuals from the population of interest, enumerators carefully explained the scenario, verified respondents’ understanding, and proceeded to one of the four randomly assigned experimental manipulations, described below.

To maximize external validity, the two sets of manipulations – one for fulfillment/un-fulfillment of bold policies and a second for the presence/absence of symbolic ties – imitated stimuli that voters would encounter in a real presidential campaign. I developed each manipulation with the assistance and feedback of local campaign strategists, in-depth interviews and pretests with individuals from the population of interest, and, in Argentina, a pilot survey distributed online via email and Facebook (N = 239). To enhance internal validity, the survey was conducted in face-to-face format with local, trained enumerators to ensure that respondents understood the scenario and received the correct manipulations.⁷ Manipulation checks (described subsequently) further verified that each stimulus achieved its intended purpose.

For the two conditions in which bold policies were enacted (fulfilled), the enumerator described to the respondent the candidate’s successful completion of bold policies as governor, emphasizing impressive, tangible benefits he provided to popular-sector citizens in his province/state. For the remaining two conditions (unfulfilled), the enumerator indicated the candidate’s failure to implement the same policies as governor. To stress the daring character of the candidate’s policies, exaggerated wording was used, such as the promise to “end” (rather than reduce) poverty, “eliminate” unemployment, and “combat” crime. The policies also addressed real citizens’ most pressing concerns, as indicated by surveys conducted no more than three months prior to fielding the study (economic crisis, unemployment, and poverty in Argentina; economic crisis, crime, and food shortages in Venezuela). Finally, to personalize and enhance the emotional persuasiveness of the scenario, I used an episodic frame (a personal anecdote) rather than a thematic frame (factual information) to depict the candidate’s successful/failed implementation of bold policies (Iyengar 1994; Klar 2013). Prioritizing emotional responses to the candidate’s policies in this way corresponds to my theory that the implementation of bold, initially impressive policies strengthens followers’ charismatic – deeply emotional and personalistic – attachments to the movement.

Next, respondents were exposed to auditory and visual cues representing the presence/absence of the candidate’s symbolic ties to the founder.⁸ First, respondents listened to a 90-second speech by the candidate using headphones provided by the enumerator. The speech was recorded rather than printed because voters tend to listen to, rather than read, candidate speeches in the context of presidential campaigns. Each speech was developed based on several real speeches made by prominent movement leaders including Carlos Menem and Cristina Kirchner in Argentina and Nicolás Maduro and Henri Falcón in Venezuela.⁹ In each country, local campaign experts with public speaking experience recorded the speech.

In both versions of the speech, the candidate reflected on the country’s current state of affairs and expressed bold promises that he would fulfill if elected. Next, in the two conditions in which symbolic ties were present (symbol), the candidate mentioned the founder by name (Perón/Chávez), referred to the followers using a typical in-group label (comrades/the Bolivarian people), and stressed the transformational character of the movement.¹⁰ Conversely, in the two conditions where symbolic ties were absent (no symbol), the candidate did not mention the founder’s name, used a neutral label for the voters (compatriots/the Venezuelan people), and referred to progress in terms of realistic development rather than using the more grandiose and missionary language of transformation. The remaining content, tone, and length of the speech in each country were held constant across all four conditions.

While listening to the candidate’s speech, participants viewed a card with an image of the candidate’s campaign poster, which was also designed based on materials from recent presidential campaigns and feedback from local experts.¹¹ Each version of the poster contained a generic campaign slogan (Opportunity for All/Together with the People), a solid color background, an image of children, the candidate’s name, the title “President,” and a picture of the candidate from the chest up.¹² In the version with symbolic ties, the background color corresponded to the movement (celeste/red) and the image featured the founder among the children. The version without symbolic ties had a generic background color unaffiliated with any major political party in the country, and the image of children did not include the founder.¹³

Following exposure to one of the four randomly assigned conditions, respondents answered a range of survey questions regarding their emotional attachment to the movement and support for the candidate – the dependent variables of the study. To measure emotional attachment, respondents were asked how Peronist/Chavista they felt on a scale from 0 to 10. They were also asked to indicate the intensity of their positive and negative feelings toward the movement on four-point scales including pride, excitement, and hope; anger, disappointment, and fear. Due to the high interitem correlation between the three survey items for positive and negative feelings, respectively, I collapsed each set into an additive index and rescaled it to range from 0 to 10.¹⁴ I interpreted statistically significant increases in the former two measures and a significant decrease in the latter as successful reactivation of citizens’ emotional attachments to the movement.¹⁵

To measure support for the candidate, respondents were first asked a series of questions regarding their perceptions of the candidate’s charisma. Based on my theory, a compelling leader who materially and symbolically embodies the founder’s heroic image should appear significantly more charismatic to the followers – especially if the candidate is to consolidate his own personalistic authority.

To operationalize the candidate’s charisma, respondents were asked to indicate their level of agreement on a four-point scale with three statements about his selflessness, vision of the future, and capacity to solve the country’s problems. While charisma is difficult to measure quantitatively, these items have been validated in previous studies of charisma in Latin America and represent key components of the concept as outlined in my theory. I drew the first two of these statements from a five-question charisma battery developed by Merolla and Zechmeister to assess citizens’ perceptions of leaders’ charisma in Mexico and Venezuela.¹⁶ I selected the following items: “[Leader’s name] articulates a compelling vision of the future,” and “[Leader’s name] goes beyond his own self-interest for the good of the group.”¹⁷ The first reflects the leader’s enactment of the founder’s mission to establish a more prosperous future for the followers; the second relates to the leader’s willingness to sacrifice personal goals to fulfill this righteous mission on behalf of the followers. I incorporated the third statement – “[the leader] is capable of resolving [Argentina’s / Venezuela’s] problems” – to capture respondents’ perceptions of the leader’s heroic capacity to resolve their misery. Though this statement is not included in Merolla and Zechmeister’s battery, it comprises a central component of my definition of charisma that is also stressed by Weber: the leader’s extraordinary ability to solve the people’s problems. Unlike survey questions in which respondents are prompted to explicitly evaluate the candidate’s economic performance (which was also incorporated in the study as a manipulation check, described subsequently), the broader and more prospective nature of this statement better (if imperfectly) captures whether the candidate inspires and convinces the followers of his/her heroic potential – a crucial component of charisma. I collapsed this three-item charisma battery into an additive index and rescaled to range from 0 to 10.¹⁸

In addition to the charisma battery, I included a survey question to measure respondents’ intention to vote for the candidate in future elections. Whereas charismatic perceptions indicate respondents’ potential to form emotional ties to the leader, this item provides a more concrete measure of support that is also necessary for the leader’s consolidation of power. This item was also rescaled to range from 0 to 10 in both countries. Further details regarding all survey questions, including wording and response options, can be found in online Appendix C.

5.2.3 Manipulation Checks

The survey included additional questions to verify that the experimental manipulations had their intended effects. For bold policies, respondents were asked to evaluate the candidate’s performance as governor on a four-point scale. As expected, respondents in the two conditions where the candidate fulfilled bold policies as governor rated his performance significantly higher than respondents in the two conditions where he failed to implement the policies (M_Policies = 3.21 vs. M_{No Policies} = 2.19, p < .05 in Argentina; M_Policies = 3.11 vs. M_{No Policies} = 2.42, p < .05 in Venezuela).

To verify the symbolic manipulation, respondents were asked to evaluate how Peronist/Chavista the candidate appeared on a scale from 0 to 10. On average, respondents in the two conditions with symbolic ties perceived the candidate as more Peronist/Chavista than in the two conditions without symbolic ties (M_Symbol = 6.98 vs. M_{No Symbol} = 6.46, p < .05 in Argentina; M_Symbol = 7.56 vs. M_{No Symbol} = 5.63, p < .05 in Venezuela). These data suggest that respondents in both countries received the correct cues for both sets of manipulations.

5.2.4 Results

HI : The combined effects of bold policies and symbolic ties cause followers to express the strongest (A) attachment to the movement and (B) support for the candidate.

For the most part, the results support HI, suggesting that the combined effect of bold policies and symbolic ties cause followers to express the most intense emotional attachment to the movement and the greatest support for the candidate. Specifically, in Argentina, respondents who received both cues (fulfilled/symbol) expressed the strongest identification with Peronism, the most intense positive feelings, and the weakest negative feelings toward the movement, providing strong support for HI(A). Pairwise difference-of-means tests demonstrate that, on average, the joint effects of fulfilled bold policies and symbolic ties had a significantly greater, positive impact on followers’ expressions of emotional attachment based on these three indicators. The differences were statistically significant (p ≤ .09) in seven of nine pairwise comparisons between the fulfilled/symbol condition and each of the remaining conditions. The two differences that did not reach statistical significance – between fulfilled/symbol and unfulfilled/symbol for Peronist identification and for positive feelings toward Peronism – were in the hypothesized direction, with larger scores in the fulfilled/symbol condition.

Likewise, Argentine respondents exposed to both fulfilled bold policies and symbolic ties endorsed the candidate most enthusiastically, supporting HI(B). On average, respondents in the fulfilled/symbol condition perceived the candidate as more charismatic. These respondents also expressed greater willingness to vote for the candidate than respondents in the remaining conditions. All difference-of-means tests between this condition and each remaining condition were positive and significant (p ≤ .076). Figure 5.1A and B present graphical illustrations of the results and Figure 5.2 shows pairwise t-tests between the fulfilled/symbol condition and each of the three remaining conditions (full ANOVA results and p-values for all pairwise t-tests are presented in online Appendix C).

Figure 5.1. Mean levels of movement attachment and candidate support by experimental condition in Argentina

Figure 5.2. Difference of means in Argentina for hypothesis I: Pairwise t-tests

In Venezuela, the results for HI are mixed. To begin, HI(A) is not supported: In terms of movement attachment, respondents expressed equally strong identification with and feelings toward Chavismo across all four conditions, suggesting that neither bold policies nor symbolic ties had a noticeable effect. Moreover, the Venezuelan respondents expressed much higher and more concentrated levels of attachment than their Argentine counterparts. As shown in Table 5.3, in Argentina, the mean score for identification with Peronism across the four conditions was 6.45 with a standard deviation of 2.44, the mean score for positive feelings was 6.67 with a standard deviation of 2.90, and the mean score for negative feelings was 4.08 with a standard deviation of 2.77. Conversely, in Venezuela, the mean score for identification with Chavismo was 8.54 and a standard deviation of 2.12, the mean for positive feelings was 8.87 with a standard deviation of 1.76, and the mean for negative feelings was 1.57 with a standard deviation of 2.17. In other words, overall, the lower intensity and greater dispersion of attachments in Argentina allowed for differences to reveal themselves across the four conditions, whereas the “ceiling effects” for attachment in Venezuela suppressed any potential differences.

Table 5.3. Descriptive statistics for movement attachment and candidate support

Variable	Argentina		Venezuela
	Mean	Std. Dev.	Mean	Std. Dev.
Movement ID	6.45	2.44	8.54	2.12
Positive Feelings	6.33	2.90	8.87	1.76
Negative Feelings	4.08	2.77	1.57	2.17
Charisma	5.28	2.66	6.01	3.13
Vote Intent	5.17	3.18	6.46	3.97

I suspect that these ceiling effects emerged in Venezuela due to the recent nature of Chávez’s death, just four years before the survey was conducted. Because Chávez’s followers continue to mourn his passing, it is likely that their attachments to his legacy remain highly activated, resulting in the expression of particularly raw, powerful, and concentrated feelings toward Chavismo – regardless of the behavior of new leaders. Indeed, the survey experiment was administered just four years after Chávez’s death, during the rule of Chávez’s handpicked successor, Nicolás Maduro – who leaned heavily on symbolic connections to Chávez and likely intensified the emotional salience of the founder’s legacy even further. Conversely, Perón died over forty years before the survey was conducted in Argentina. Given the passage of several decades since the founder’s death, followers’ attachments to Peronism are likely to be more nuanced than their Venezuelan counterparts. Argentines who are not exposed to a new leader implementing Peronist cues may therefore be less likely to express their attachments as enthusiastically.

While the Venezuelan respondents’ relatively uniform and intense expressions of attachment to Chavismo fail to provide support for HI(A), the results nevertheless attest to the staying power of charismatic attachments in the wake of the founder’s death. Indeed, the routinization thesis suggests that citizens’ attachments to the movement begin to fade away when the founder disappears, yet in Venezuela, the experimental results suggest that, four years after Chávez’s death, many citizens’ deeply affective attachments to his movement remain as strong as ever. Still, the comparison of results between Venezuela and Argentina suggests that, over the course of several decades, as the founder’s original rule grows more distant, it is possible that the emotional intensity of citizens’ attachments to the movement begins to dissipate – albeit much more slowly than routinization scholars indicate. Furthermore, as will be discussed subsequently, it seems likely that the relative importance of the material and symbolic components of the charismatic attachment may shift over time.

Nevertheless, turning to candidate support, the results in Venezuela uphold HI(B): the combined effects of bold policies and symbolic ties caused followers to express the strongest support for the candidate. On average, relative to all other conditions, respondents in the fulfilled/symbol condition perceived the candidate as significantly more charismatic (p ≈ 0 across all pairwise difference-of-means tests) and were more likely to vote for the candidate in future elections (p ≤ .012 across all pairwise difference-of-means tests). The significance of these findings is noteworthy: while attachments to Chavismo remain strong among all followers, charismatic attachment to and support for new leaders vary based on the extent to which leaders can (a) demonstrate their own heroic capacities by fulfilling bold policies and (b) convincingly tie that heroism to Chávez’s legacy. Thus, to maximize their support, new candidates are incentivized to behave similarly to and associate themselves with the charismatic founder to garner support – actions that perpetuate the founder’s legacy. Figures 5.3A and B present graphical illustrations of the results in Venezuela and Figure 5.4 summarizes pairwise t-tests between the fulfilled/symbol condition and each of the three remaining conditions in Venezuela (full ANOVA results and p-values for all pairwise t-tests are presented in online Appendix C).

Figure 5.3. Mean levels of movement attachment and candidate support by experimental condition in Venezuela

Figure 5.4. Difference of means in Venezuela for hypothesis I: Pairwise t-tests

HII : The marginal effects of bold policies and symbolic ties on followers’ (A) expression of attachment to the movement and (B) support for the candidate are stronger than their combined absence.

The results provide partial support for HII. In terms of movement attachment, respondents in Argentina exposed to either bold policies or symbolic ties generally expressed stronger attachment than respondents exposed to neither of the two cues, supporting HII(A). The results were significant in three of four pairwise t-tests (p ≤ .075), and were in the correct direction in the fourth t-test. However, no significant differences were revealed across the three conditions in terms of negative feelings toward the movement, indicating that, unlike the combined effect of the two cues, the marginal effect of each is insufficient to attenuate respondents’ negative sentiments toward the movement.

As for HII(B), the results from Argentina suggest that bold policies by themselves caused respondents to express stronger support for the candidate, whereas symbolic ties had no significant marginal effect. On average, respondents in the fulfilled/no symbol condition perceived the candidate as more charismatic (p ≈ 0) and expressed greater intentions to vote for the candidate (p = .001) than in the unfulfilled/no symbol condition. In contrast, there was no significant difference between the unfulfilled/symbol condition and the unfulfilled/no symbol condition. These findings suggest that the impact of symbolic ties on voters’ support for the candidate is not as strong as the impact of bold policies. Figure 5.5 displays pairwise t-tests pertaining to Hypothesis II in Argentina.

Figure 5.5. Difference of means in Argentina for hypothesis II: Pairwise t-tests

In Venezuela, no significant differences emerged across the four conditions in terms of movement attachment due to the ceiling effects described earlier. However, the results indicate that the marginal effects of bold policies and symbolic ties significantly influenced the respondents’ support for the candidate, providing partial support for HII(B). On average, respondents in the fulfilled/no symbol and unfulfilled/symbol conditions perceived the candidate as more charismatic than respondents in unfulfilled/no symbol condition (p ≈ 0 and p = .010, respectively). Furthermore, respondents in the unfulfilled/symbol condition expressed significantly greater willingness to vote for the candidate than respondents in the unfulfilled/no symbol condition (p = .054). Figure 5.6 displays pairwise t-tests pertaining to these results in Venezuela.

Figure 5.6. Difference of means in Venezuela for hypothesis II: Pairwise t-tests

A comparison of the results for HII(B) across Argentina and Venezuela yields further insights regarding the marginal effects of the material and symbolic cues on support for the candidate. As Figures 5.1B and 5.3B illustrate, in Argentina, the marginal effect of the material cue surpassed that of the symbolic cue, whereas in Venezuela, the opposite occurred: the marginal effect of the symbolic cue prevailed over the material cue. In other words, on average, Argentine respondents found the candidate who fulfilled bold policies yet had no symbolic ties to Perón to be more charismatic and worthier of their vote; in contrast, Venezuelan respondents tended to prefer the candidate who did not fulfill the policies yet demonstrated his symbolic connection to Chávez!

These findings suggest that the importance of the symbolic and material dimensions of charisma may vary over time, especially as they concern successors’ ability to convince the followers they are worthy of the founder’s mantle. Specifically, it is possible that, in the aftermath of the founder’s disappearance, successors must rely more heavily on the symbolic dimension to portray themselves as rightful heirs. Yet with the passage of time, the material dimension – in particular, the heroic performance of new leaders – may become increasingly consequential for proving their capacity to pick up the founder’s baton and revive the movement. Although these findings are speculative, they reveal interesting nuances about the unique effects of the different dimensions of charisma and open up avenues for future research.

To conclude, the findings reveal that the marginal effects of bold policies and symbolic ties influence followers’ expressions of emotional attachment to the movement, their perceptions of the new leader’s charisma, and their likelihood to vote for the new leader in future elections – though these effects are weaker than the joint effect of the two cues. Interestingly, the marginal effects of each cue vary according to the historical position of the charismatic movement: In Argentina, where the movement’s founder died decades ago, the impact of the symbolic cue is relatively weaker than in Venezuela, where the founder died very recently and the movement remains in power. Still, in both countries, the fulfillment of bold policies appears to have a strong marginal effect on support for the candidate (with the exception of vote intention in Venezuela, perhaps due to the strength of symbolic ties in the current political climate). In contrast, symbolic ties are potentially more important than bold policies for reviving followers’ attachments to the movement. These results reinforce my theory that new leaders must fulfill material and symbolic cues to fully revive the movement in their own name.

HIII : Followers’ identification with the movement will mediate the effect of the symbolic cue on support for the candidate.

Finally, to further examine whether symbolic ties increase followers’ support for the candidate by enhancing their identification with the movement, I turn to the third hypothesis. Following Imai, Keele, and Tingley (2010), I estimate the average causal mediation effect of movement identification on the relationship between symbolic ties and followers’ support for the candidate, measured as charismatic perceptions and vote intention (see online Appendix C for equations and full output of the analysis). In Argentina, the results uphold this hypothesis. The direct and total effects of symbolic ties on charismatic perceptions and vote intent are not significant. More importantly, however, movement attachment has a positive, significant effect (see Table 5.4).¹⁹ In other words, the symbolic cue has a significant but indirect effect on candidate support: Exposure to symbolic ties increases followers’ support for the candidate by intensifying their identification with the movement. Thus, although the results from HII(B) suggest that the influence of the symbolic cue on candidate support may have faded in Argentina in the decades since Perón’s death, the mediation analysis suggests the lingering influence of the symbolic cue on followers’ identification with the movement. In Venezuela, due to the ceiling effects for movement identification across the four experimental conditions, the results were not significant. Nevertheless, the Argentine findings underscore that, in addition to proving their own impressive leadership by implementing bold policies, successors who want to maximize their support should link themselves to the founder and his heroic mission to reactivate followers’ attachments to the movement.

Table 5.4. Average causal mediated effect of movement identification on the relationship between the symbolic cue and candidate support (95 percent confidence intervals shown)

Average Effect	Argentina		Venezuela
	Charisma	Vote Intent	Charisma	Vote Intent
Mediation (Indirect)	.138 (.014, .291)	.201 (.016, .413)	.000 (−.046, .048)	.071 (−.122, .275)
Direct	.206 (−.257, .662)	.123 (−.422, .660)	1.16 (.582, 1.72)	152 (.817, 2.21)
Total	.344 (−.128, .825)	.323 (−.244, .900)	1.16 (.592, 1.73)	1.59 (.870, 2.33)
Proportion Mediated	.361 (−2.05, 3.04)	.490 (−6.51, 9.45)	.000 (.000, .000)	.045 (.030, .081)

5.3 Conclusion

This chapter has provided important evidence that charismatic movements can persist by sustaining their original, personalistic nature rather than transforming into routinized parties. Specifically, new politicians can tap into followers’ latent attachments to the movement to politically reactivate those bonds and garner support as the movement’s new savior. Successors do not achieve this by adopting a strategy of routinization, such as developing a strong, consistent programmatic platform or relying on a well-developed party organization. Rather, new leaders restore the movement to power by embracing a personalistic strategy in which they depict themselves as heroic heirs of the founder and claim their devotion to realizing the founder’s mission of transcendence. To do so, these leaders must first establish their own charisma by promising and fulfilling bold policies that demonstrate their extraordinary capacities; second, they must symbolically link themselves to the founder and display their commitment to reviving his redemptive mission. These tactics increase the political salience of followers’ emotional identification with the movement, which in turn enhance their charismatic perceptions of and electoral support for the successor.

I demonstrate the mechanisms of charismatic attachment reactivation through a survey experiment conducted in Argentina and Venezuela with followers of Peronism and Chavismo, respectively. Similar to the focus groups discussed in Chapter 4, the results illustrate the enduring affective nature of followers’ attachments to the movement. These bonds appeared especially strong in Venezuela, but also revealed themselves in Argentina. The survival of charismatic attachments in the latter case is remarkable, given that Juan Perón died over forty years ago and many observers doubt the resilience of the Peronist identity.²⁰ Moreover, the evidence suggests that new leaders – even ones with whom citizens are unfamiliar, such as a hypothetical presidential candidate – can strategically leverage the founder’s legacy to politically reactivate followers’ charismatic attachments and increase their own personal allure. Successors who combine bold, initially successful policies with symbolic ties to the founder cause followers to express the strongest emotional attachment and elevate the successors’ charismatic appeal.

The results also shed light on the marginal effects of material and symbolic cues. The material cue appears to have important, independent effects on support for the candidate, measured in terms of charismatic perceptions and vote intention. This implies that leaning on the symbolic legacy of a charismatic predecessor is, by itself, insufficient to consolidate power: New leaders seeking to inherit the founder’s mantle must also independently demonstrate their mighty potential. Yet the results also indicate that symbolic ties have a remarkably strong, marginal effect on citizens’ emotional attachments to the movement. Moreover, a causal mediation analysis with the Argentine data indicates the important, indirect effect of the symbolic cue on followers’ support for the candidate. The strength of this cue and its positive impact on candidate support, which operates by increasing the followers’ identification with the movement, underscores the enduring influence of charismatic leaders’ symbolic legacies on voters’ attitudes and behaviors and suggests that leaders seeking to inherit the founders’ power must also tie themselves to those legacies.

Importantly, it is possible that this strategy of charismatic reactivation extends only to the movement’s traditional followers – those who come from the popular sectors (i.e., the lower- and lower-middle classes) and claim an affinity, however faint, with the movement. Moreover, the overall impact of the effects can vary: The symbolic cue may be more powerful at the outset, as indicated in Venezuela, whereas the material cue may prove more essential as time goes on, as suggested in Argentina. Implementation of the strategy, therefore, does not guarantee new leaders’ rise to power. Nevertheless, the importance of charismatic reactivation should not be underestimated. Indeed, followers need not be active, card-carrying members of the movement; they need only have a latent identification with the movement to be influenced by successors’ cues. Popular-sector voters who satisfy this condition constitute a sizeable proportion of the electorate in countries where charismatic movements take root, including Argentina and Venezuela. Thus, politicians have substantial incentives to enact a strategy of charismatic reactivation to enhance their personal appeal. In turn, as demonstrated in the survey experiment, this strategy can increase followers’ emotional attachment to the movement, thereby perpetuating its political relevance over time.

Due to the enduring impact of symbolic ties on followers’ attachments and the resulting influence on political support, leaders in Argentina and Venezuela have continually linked themselves to their charismatic predecessors. In Argentina, for instance, Carlos Menem justified his audacious free-market reforms in the early 1990s by claiming that Perón would have done the same to resolve the crisis (Comas 1993). Years later, when former president Cristina Fernández de Kirchner sought to regain power as a senator in the 2017 elections, she claimed, “If Perón and Evita were alive, who would they vote for? Evita would vote for Cristina, Perón would vote for Taiana [Cristina’s fellow senatorial candidate], and both would vote for Citizen Unity [Cristina’s political movement]” (“Evita votaría a Cristina, Perón votaría a Taiana, y los dos juntos a Unidad Ciudadana” 2017). In Venezuela, despite his government’s dismal performance, President Nicolás Maduro has also heavily relied on his connection to Chávez to sustain his legitimacy, declaring himself the “son of Chávez” and emphasizing his spiritual connection to the founder (e.g., Scharfenberg 2013; @VTVcanal8 2016). The results of my survey experiment suggest that these leaders’ references to the charismatic founders of Peronism and Chavismo are probably strategic attempts to revive popular enthusiasm for the movement and establish a strong foundation for the leaders’ support.

In sum, this chapter has clarified the micro-foundational process through which new leaders reactivate citizens’ emotional attachments to charismatic movements and increase personal appeal. In Chapter 6, I investigate the macro-level conditions that influence leaders’ ability to successfully implement these strategies to win elections and consolidate their own charismatic authority. To do so, I move from the perspective of the movement followers to that of the leaders who seek to revive the movement. By tracing the process through which some leaders succeeded while others failed across three charismatic movements – Peronism, Chavismo, and Fujimorismo in Peru – I indicate the crucial conditions that must be in place for successors to enact the material and symbolic cues described earlier, return the movement to power, and consolidate their own personalistic authority. Given these conditions, Chapter 7 assesses the potential trajectories that charismatic movements can take over the long term and examines the ways in which they threaten liberal democracy and hinder party system development.