Pat Dollard | Young Americans

SAN ANTONIO, Venezuela - Soldiers toting assault rifles trudged through sugarcane fields, pausing occasionally to gaze across the river that separates Venezuela from Colombia.

Suddenly, a dozen children dressed in school uniforms emerged from a thicket and asked the soldiers for permission to cross the river. Carefully, they jumped from stone to stone and into Colombia, splashing and playing.

These Venezuelan soldiers, who are permanently assigned to guard the border, are being reinforced by 10 battalions—about 9,000 troops, most of whom had arrived by Wednesday—following President Hugo Chavez’s order to increase the military presence on the Colombian border amid the two nations’ worst diplomatic standoff in years.

Chavez also severed relations with Colombia’s U.S.-backed government this week after President Alvaro Uribe launched a commando raid that killed a key rebel leader and 22 other Colombian guerrillas at a base in neighboring Ecuador last weekend.

But rather than worrying about the unlikely possibility of war, Venezuelans and Colombians who live along the border are more concerned how rapidly deteriorating relations could impact their daily lives.

They are accustomed to crossing back and forth. Mixed Venezuelan and Colombian families are so common, that national distinctions are often blurred.

“People say decisions over bilateral relations shouldn’t be made in Caracas or Bogota, but here, because here is we feel the consequences,” said Jose Colmenares, publisher of the La Opinion newspaper in the Colombian border town of Cucuta. “Everybody, on both sides of the border, rejects any political differences that could impact our lives.”

A bridge here normally bustles with activity, as Colombians stream into San Antonio to fill up on cheap gasoline, while Venezuelans make the short trip to Cucuta to buy beef, milk and eggs—foods that have become scarce at home. Many cross over for work or school.

A metal sign mounted atop the bridge that connects the border towns reads: “Two brotherly nations.” Locals take that message to heart, and many say they fear what this week’s shrill rhetoric in their capitals may bring.

“We depend on each other, and if this situation worsens, we will pay the price,” said Rafael Diaz, a 24-year-old Venezuelan who ekes out a living driving residents across the bridge between the towns.

While the border was open to most traffic Wednesday, many trucks with Colombian imports lined up at major crossings, unable to pass, because Chavez’s administration appeared to have suspended trade following an announcement by Venezuelan Agriculture Minister Elias Jaua.

Journalists in San Antonio, typically a major trade conduit, did not see any cargo crossing the border—although Defense Minister Gen. Gustavo Rangel Briceno told a news conference Wednesday: “We have received no order to close the border.”

Citizens on both sides worry that jobs could be lost if Venezuelan authorities continue to block cargo trucks. Business leaders say this bridge handles about 70 percent of trade between Venezuela and Colombia—estimated at more than $5 million a year.

“In the past, we’ve had episodes, problems, but not like this crisis. It’s unprecedented,” said Jaime Sorzano, head of a Colombian cargo transport association.

Many here predict that Chavez’s government won’t try to permanently cut off trade, in part because Venezuela needs food imports from Colombia.

But amid the tensions, Venezuelan authorities in San Antonio have also sought to crack down on the smuggling of cheap Venezuelan gasoline to Colombia, restricting sales and confiscating contraband tanks.

The measure angers Colombians like Alfredo Gutierrez, who depends on the illegal fuel trade to provide for his wife and two children. Gutierrez pointed irritatedly to dozens of plastic containers he uses to sell the fuel, all of which are now empty.

“This is what I have left,” he said, motioning to his last five jugs.

(AP)

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