Pedro Tellechea, Maduro’s favorite manager who fell from grace

He was serious and extremely formal in his dealings. He received people in his office without wearing a military uniform, despite holding the rank of colonel. Others flaunt it to display maximum loyalty to the revolution; he did not need to, it was presupposed by reputation. He had become a teetotaler and watched his diet; he liked to stay in shape. While expansive men have triumphed within Chavismo, men like Hugo Chávez, Diosdado Cabello or Nicolás Maduro, Pedro Tellechea was restrained, shy, a man of few words, one of a new generation of Chavistas who renounce the tracksuit. Tellechea, 48, had earned the reputation of being efficient, orderly, and an executor: the qualities of a good manager. Maduro recognized this in public and his friends — and even his enemies — did so in private. There was nobody better at reading metrics, organizing, cleaning up, plugging budgetary holes and keeping an eye on high-ranking officials, but also on the lady at the door or the maintenance man.

During his time at the head of state oil firm PDVSA, a company in ruins, he paid off debts, increased barrel production and won the trust of companies such as Exxon, Repsol and ENI, which began to operate after the lifting of sanctions by the White House. The general feeling was that, after several disastrous company presidents who had never seen an oil rig in their lives, Tellechea had done a good job, even though he was assigned elsewhere just a year after being appointed. However, that has not helped him avoid the fate of many previous PDVSA presidents, such as imprisonment, public humiliation and discredit in the eyes of others.

Tellechea, in a matter of hours, has gone from belonging to the first circle of power, the one that surrounds Maduro, to being an outcast. On Friday, the president dismissed him from his post as Minister of Industry and, two days later, Venezuelan officials arrived at his house to arrest him. At the same time, the authorities detained a dozen of his close collaborators, a number that could rise to 20 in the next few days. From early Monday morning, when the Prosecutor’s Office made his arrest official, Wechat, Chavismo’s preferred messaging service, was abuzz with posts, most of them incredulous. Even more so when the accusation was made public: Tellechea is suspected of leaking information about PDVSA, from his operations command, to a company controlled “by the United States intelligence services.” No one knows for certain if there is any truth to it, or if it is simply a conspiracy staged by his enemies to get rid of him. What is certain is that in a universe as conspiratorial as Chavismo, a stain of that kind is indelible.

Pedro Rafael Tellechea Ruiz, almost neckless, of medium height, with a square face and wire-rimmed spectacles, embarked on an upward career 15 years ago. His suits were tailored. He wore cologne. In the military he learned discipline, self-control, and discretion, the latter a quality that is valued in the Miraflores Palace, the seat of government and the home of the presidential couple, Maduro and Cilia Flores. Tellechea also had the favor of Vice President Delcy Rodríguez, who has a reputation for surrounding herself with competent people, unlike other Chavista leaders who value loyalty above any other virtue. In any case, Tellechea was not handed anything; he earned it. He emerged well-regarded from public management at the Empresa Mixta Metanol de Oriente, Metor S.A, and the presidencies of the Venezuelan Aluminum Industry and Pequiven, the state petrochemical company. Some people questioned his management, but the general feeling is that he more than fulfilled his promise, which would serve as a springboard to PDVSA, the jewel in the crown.

“He had earned a certain aura of professionalism and technical expertise, which is a prerequisite in PDVSA. Experts and the private industry valued him; they saw in him someone who was willing to talk and he helped to solve, at least to a certain extent, the disastrous management,” explains a direct source familiar with the inner workings of the state oil company. Tellechea paid debts to companies — PDVSA still owes hundreds of millions of dollars to third parties — and approached the private sector to increase production. When he took office, 700,000 barrels were being produced per day. When he left that figure stood at 940,000. He was aided by the licenses that the United States granted to Chevron, and the certificates of conformity that the Spanish company Repsol and Italy’s Eni received.

Two presidencies earlier, all of this was handled by a National Guard general, Manuel Quevedo, who only deepened the lack of professionalism plaguing an organization that at the end of 1994 was the second-largest oil company in the world, according to a report that year by Petroleum Intelligence Weekly. PDVSA far surpassed giants such as ExxonMobil or BP, and was second only to Saudi Arabia’s Aramco. The company endured years of lack of investment, protests, mass layoffs, legal uncertainty, violation of safety and environmental standards, and pure and simple corruption. General Quevedo continued that line of incompetence and mediocrity, according to experts in the sector. Quevedo wore a uniform and proudly displayed his medals on his chest. He was replaced by Asdrúbal Chávez, who put the brakes on the mismanagement, but it was not until Tellechea’s arrival that order began to be restored. PDVSA never again came close to being restored to its former glory — an impossible task in the current context — but at least its nosedive was halted.

Tellechea’s arrest and imprisonment, for now, remain a mystery. The accusations of the Attorney General’s Office, headed by a man loyal to the regime, Tarek William Saab, are vague. The prosecutor himself acknowledged in a statement that the investigation was carried out “with the full cooperation of the head of state [Maduro],” which strenghtens the idea of those who think that the Bolivarian revolution has supra-constitutional powers. Cabello, Chavismo’s number two, said Tuesday that Tellechea had “handed over the brains of the company [PDVSA] to a company linked to U.S. imperialism,” without clarifying which company he was referring to. “President Nicolás Maduro has declared war on corruption in the country,” Cabello added. “And normally corruption is accompanied by the anti-value of betrayal. We have always been clear about this: as Commander Chávez said, whoever engages in corruption, whoever betrays the homeland, will pay, no matter who falls.” Cabello stated that innocence cannot be presumed in a position of such responsibility. “Fortunately, we stopped the road to the black hole they wanted to put us in.”

Tellechea was in charge, among other things, of carrying out investigations and doing the math to come to the figure of $23 billion for the hole left in PDVSA’s accounts by the corruption network led by Tareck El Aissami, known as “the traitor” in the Miraflores Palace. El Aissami, who rose to become vice president and was one of Maduro’s most trusted aides, fell from grace in a flash. He went from sitting at the table with the president and his family, spending nights at the Humboldt Hotel and eating in expensive restaurants to the life of a recluse in a blue jumpsuit.

It is not known whether Tellechea will be similarly consigned to the abyss but is does not look good for the former PDVSA president. Just two months ago, when he appointed him Minister of Industry, Maduro said: “I appoint engineer Pedro Tellechea to bring his managerial and professional capacity to the recovery of all industry — public, mixed and private — in the country. Tellechea!” The public manager listened in amazement in the middle of the room, a little embarrassed because all eyes were on him, in addition to the praiseworthy impetus of Maduro. It seemed like a new stage, the second, of a trajectory toward the highest levels of Chavismo administration. In reality, it was the end.

Sign up for our weekly newsletter to get more English-language news coverage from EL PAÍS USA Edition