Impressions of La Paz

La Paz has made impressions on me in waves since my arrival. The first, from the air, was the dramatic geography of the city. Bolivia’s capital is tucked into a canyon at about 15,000 feet of altitude. La Paz is the third largest city in the country, with just under a million people. Santa Cruz, in the eastern province (where I will visit later), is the largest with over a million. Second largest, surprisingly, is the sprawling metropolis of El Alto, located on the rim of La Paz´s canyon and stretching off across the altiplano plateau. El Alto is home to the single-strip airport I landed on, and is known as the Aymara (an indigenous Andean group, to which Evo Morales belongs) capital of the world. Its million or so residents have grown from the campesinos that flood from the countryside into the city, which used to be no more than a slummy suburb but is now South America’s (and probable the Western Hemisphere’s) fastest growing metropolitan area.

On the way from el Alto into the centro of La Paz, several first impressions stuck in my mind. One was the amount of political graffiti, most of it anti-racist or pro-Morales (such as walls throughout the city reading “Sucre: Capital del Racismo.” Remember the constitutional riots and violence against campesinos?). I am staying in a hotel near the city center, on a busy street in a neighborhood full of a bustling indigenous population. While some live in La Paz proper, many make the journey down from El Alto to sell produce or an assortment of items that could satisfy any shopping needs. All of this is done in the street, with blankets or baskets spread on the sidewalk or in the street to display the goods, forcing pedestrians and vehicles alike to find a way around. The market atmosphere, in particular, strikes me as similar to India´s streets, while the traffic and buildings remind me of a poorer and more chaotic (believe it or not) Mexico.

At this altitude, the air is thin and cool, and each night the temperature dips toward freezing. Monday was the winter equinox, and it is the height of the dry season. Paceños travel bundled in coats and jackets, or in blankets and cloaks in the style of traditional indigenous dress. Indigenous people who live in the city and wear traditional dress are known as cholos or cholas, and are omnipresent around the La Paz, either selling things along the sidewalks or climbing the streets with blankets slung on their backs. 7 of 10 Bolivians work in the informal economy, a statistic that is abundantly obvious just from looking around. For this reason, issues of taxes and minimum wage hikes are more symbolic than practical to most Bolivians. The average citizen is more interested in health services (the other day I saw a graffiti´d wall reading “Before, health was for few; now, health is for all), education, and money to keep them out of poverty as they grow old. Many, once they are too old or weak to carry their bundles, are reduced to begging to pay for food.

As is true in most poor and socially segregated countries, Bolivians have developed an talent for ignoring the unpleasant. The streets are full of so many people asking for attention that passersby see right through the hawkers, beggars, and shoeshine boys. When they decide they want what is being offered, it is as if a switch is thrown and the shoe shiner or hawker is recognized as a person. Widespread poverty as pervasive as Bolivia’s is almost impossible to effectively address through politics or social action, because people here have trained and conditioned themselves not to see its everyday examples. So, while most Bolivians would agree that reducing poverty should be a goal, they often don’t connect the general idea with the practical application of policies to benefit the poor they pass by on the street or in the market everyday. That is just the way it is, they think, and their thoughts go elsewhere.

For many of the poorest Bolivians, politics are a luxury. Television reaches relatively few, newspaper reading is limited by illiteracy and cost, and radio programs are the only news medium to reach rural Bolivia. Apathy, disinterest, and isolation from any real impact of the rhetoric on the newspaper covers: these attitudes characterize the political positions of many Bolivians. In fact, most of the campesinos I have spoken too have professed ignorance or disinterest in political issues, even as a cultural and political battle is being waged on their behalf. The well-known Bolivian tendency for protest marches, one affluent student informed me, was more the product of savvy organization and mobilization strategy by social leaders than of personal interest on the part of the campesinos. This characterization of political action by indigenous groups may be partially accurate, but for citizens to whom democracy is a fairly new concept, the most obvious route to political expression is public demonstration.

The dividing lines between Evo´s supporters and detractors are not crystal clear, either. The other day, I followed a march by the national Union of Municipal Workers, based here in La Paz, as they protested a labor law that Evo has promised but not instituted. These marchers had a very clear goal, and were marching for a specific purpose in opposition to Evo, although the banners depicting images of Ché Guevara and posters railing against neoliberalism would suggest that they supported the President’s socialist stance. When I spoke to the Union Secretary, he had a very straightforward answer for why they were marching: the wanted the ley general de trabajo instituted. Vaguely democratic politician rhetoric and ideology-driven protest marches might dominate Bolivian politics, but people are also interested in effective, tangible change.

In other news, US-Bolivian relations have further deteriorated. After the angry march against the US embassy following the announcement of political asylum for the leaders of the October 2003 massacre, a diplomatic tit-for-tat has taken place. As the U.S. ambassador praised the police for protecting the embassy, Evo removed the chief who had ordered tear gas used against the protestors. The US then recalled its ambassador to Washington for consultations, and the State Department has declared that he will not return unless a dialogue with Morales´ government is opened. Morales then criticized American development agency USAID, which has been forced out of some parts of the country. In the meantime, newspaper headlines declared that the embassy has announced safety precautions for its personnel and is concerned for the safety of American citizens in Bolivia. This is news to me, as I haven’t felt any hostility from locals and we are a long way from a government expulsion of Americans.

Today I am off to see the opening rally for Evo´s campaign to win the recall referendum in August and continue his reforms. I will be posting again shortly, but until then know that I am well and that La Paz continues to take my breath away, literally, as I climb its streets and sidewalks.

Inequality, Reform, Autonomy: Bolivia´s Future

With the aforementioned delay of a constitutional referendum, the political battle here in Bolivia has recently moved to other fronts. At the center of the struggle, however, are the same issues that make the new constitution so important. The proposed policies of land redistribution and hydrocarbon taxation, which are both recognized by independent analysts as the essential first steps necessary to reduce economic inequality, are part of the reason a stronger central government looks to be necessary. In order to break down the social and racial barriers in Bolivia that have developed along regional lines, a more centralized government is also needed. These positions, held by the majority coalition led by the MAS party and supported by most international analysts and observers, are in sharp contrast to the positions of the eastern departamentos.

The states of the media luna, where the vast majority of the country´s resource wealth and arable land is concentrated, is the centre of Morales` opposition. The governors of these departamentos are members of the traditional social elite that has controlled economic and political affairs in Bolivia since colonial times. Their regions, in addition to being the wealthiest, are home to Bolivia´s mestizo and white minority. With complicity from the governments of the 80s and 90s, these regions have used resource revenues and foreign investment to build a commercial and public infastructure vastly disproportionate to the relative development of the rest of the country. As my guidebook put it, “Santa Cruz has more in common with Miami Beach than with the altiplano”. This contrast is sobering, considering the inequality that it represents in a country that has the lowest life expectancy, literacy, sanitation, and GDP per capita of any country in the Western Hemisphere besides Guatemala and Haiti.

The paradox of Bolivia´s generous resource wealth and crushing poverty is the product of the political and economic systems that have supplied the elite with power and wealth as the poor indigenous majority scrapes out a living in the margins of society. In the face of the Morales government´s reform agenda, however, the departamentos of the media luna are struggling to maintain their priveleged economic status. Rejecting the idea of nationwide distribution of oil tax revenues, the leaders of Santa Cruz and the other states argue that resource wealth should remain in the region where it was generated. Imagine if, say, California declared that it was so patriotic and democratic that it would no longer be subject to the US Constitution, and decided not to allow revenues from all economic activities and natural resources to be included under federal taxation or benefit any programs outside the state. This is a far less severe version of the potential economic impact sought by the autonomy movement here.

Morales´ economic policies are not strictly socialist: he wants a mixed economy built on a model of so-called “Andean-Amazonian Capitalism”, with the goal of maintaining efficient productivity while benefiting social welfare. To the power-holders of the eastern departments, however, anything less than complete control of their own resources is termed a “violation of democracy”. Under the leadership of opposition governor Ruben Costas, Santa Cruz held a referendum on autonomy on May 4, 2008. The vote had already been declared unconstitutional by the National Electoral Court, and was unrecognized and deemed illegal by the EU, the OAS, and the South American Union. Nevertheless, an 80% majority voted yes at the polls. Similarly high majorities voted yes in Beni, Pando, and most recently, Tarija, whose vote was just this past Sunday.

These numbers are misleading, however, because of the high levels of abstention from voting. If the no votes and the abstentions are taken together, the Si vote in favor of autonomy is no longer the majority. While generally recognized by Bolivian television news programs and newspapers I have seen, these abstention rates did not register in the international news world. What reports I have seen failed to mention the percentage of non-participating voters, and even a high-quality political analsis I recently read made no mention of the abstention rates in several paragraphs of discussing the vote results. As one paceño (La Paz resident) told me just this morning, “the international news people don´t recognize the abstentions, so it is good propaganda for the pro-autonomy people.”

The autonomy votes represent very different things, depending on your perspective. Comparing them to the battle over states rights and federalism that defined early US politics, the assertion that autonomy is about de-centralization and direct democracy makes sense. But considering the actual situation of Bolivia, the claim that economic seperation and independence of autonomous regions from the new constitution would help Bolivia as a whole is a dubious one. From what I have seen and read, it seems clear that autonomy is only likely to widen the social and economic gaps that plague Bolivia´s people.

From conversations here in La Paz, I have gotten the impression that people here see the autonomy votes as Morales does: political manipulations to benefit the social elite. With their wealth and control of most private media sectors, the political leaders of the autonomy departments paint the economically-motivated movement as a struggle for democracy. Paceños are skeptical, however, and have told me that they see the autonomy votes as the elite´s method for protecting their economic interests and those of the multinational companies invested in the eastern regions.

Analysts have pointed out that there are different versions of autonomy. Evo is not strictly anti-autonomy; he supports political autonomy for both regions and for indigenous communities, but rejects claims for economic independence. Costas and the pro-autonomy leaders ignore the push for indigenous rights, and the points of their autonomy statute have everything to do with preservation of the economic status quo in their regions. According to many people here in La Paz, the eastern elite are used to having control, both economic and political, and the transparency and reform demanded by the new government has upset their priveledged niche. The opposition, in the words of one paceño, is afraid to lose what it has spent so long building for its priveledged group.

While the practical impact of the autonomy votes remains unclear, the political temperature in Bolivia continues to rise. Originally proposed by Evo, then mandated by the Congressional opposition after a confidence boost from the autonomy vote, a nationwide recall referendum has been scheduled for August 10. This legally sanctioned “confidence vote” could mean more ammunition for the opposition, or a strengthened Morales Administration, but a lot can and will change between now and August 10. Despite the fact that their party voted the recall into law, the governors of the eastern states announced this week that they would not participate in the referendum. Instead, they called for early departmental elections, but it is clear that their previous confidence is fading in the face of popular support for reform.

I hope this entry has been a decent mix of fact and opinion, as these issues are so dynamic that it is often uncertain which is which. I will continue discussing the developments surrounding the constitution, autonomy, and el revocatorio (recall) in future posts. Now that I have gotten the bulk of the background out of the way, I will also start in on my personal experiences since I´ve been here.

Constitutional Conflict and Political Polarization

Following the broader historical context I tried to supply in the first entry, I will now outline the political conflict that has developed since Evo´s election. As I mentioned, the two major platform points of Evo´s agenda were nationalization of the hydrocarbon (oil and gas) industry and a re-writing of the Bolivian Constitution. While the economic impact of the nationalization program is certainly important, it has been the proposed constitutional reform that has led Bolivian politics to where they are now.

A new constitutional assembly, the goal of social movements for more than a decade, was called and elected in summer 2006, with 54% going to members of Morales´ party MAS (Movimiento a Socialismo). The first conflict in the assembly had to do with voting rules, with MAS pushing for requiring a simple majority to pass individual resolutions and a 2/3 majority to approve the final draft. PODEMOS, the opposition coalition, argued for a 2/3 majority on every vote, regardless of importance, which would give their minority position greater leverage and slow down the proceedings significantly.

The second conflict centered on the arcane debate over Bolivia´s two capitals, with constitutional capital Sucre seeking to have the executive and legislative branches relocated from La Paz, where they have been seated for around a century. The assembly voted not to discuss Sucre´s proposal, touching off protests and violence in the city and accusations of undemocratic proceedings from the opposition. In reality, however, making Sucre the sole capital makes little sense because of the city’s small size (1/4 that of La Paz), the political impracticality of such a move, and the relative unimportance of the debate. In fact, the capital debate seems largely to have been engineered by the opposition as a sensitive and proud symbol around which to rally as much resistance as possible.

The violence in Sucre forced the Assembly to move locations after approving the preliminary draft of the full constitution in November, and the final draft was approved with a 2/3 vote on December 8, 2007. Controversy abounded, however, because the opposition boycotted the final vote amid violent protests, calling it “undemocratic”. The draft constitution is legally legitimate, however, and went to the Bolivian Congress on December 14, 2007 to be put to a nationwide referendum. The referendum, which was originally planned for May 4, 2008, has been postponed by the National Electoral Court because the conditions for the vote do not exist. Meanwhile, the national recall referendum (which I will discuss soon) is scheduled for August 10, meaning that the constitutional referendum must wait until 2009.

The new Constitution represents the basic split between supporters of Morales and his opponents. It would enshrine the program of nationalization that he began with the oil industry, and would institute a program of land redistribution that could potentially cap land holding allowances and divide 1/5 of Bolivia’s land among indigenous families. Most importantly for the historically disenfranchised peasant majority, the Constitution would allocate more political and economic rights to the poor indigenous people of the altiplano (western highlands).

Critics argue that the new constitution concentrates too much power in the central government in La Paz, and that it unfairly favors indigenous Bolivians (who, I might point out, have suffered centuries of systematic oppression at the hands of Bolivia’s European descendents). Right-wing opposition has raised fears of a MAS-led authoritarian government backed by Venezuela, although the reforms written into the new Constitution are the result of decades of social movements and political unrest rather than merely the political agenda of a single party. Even Morales´ supporters recognize that he is only the current face of a long struggle; “With or without MAS, with or without Evo, we will continue.”

With increased academic interest has come the recognition that the modern Bolivian state is structured in a way that reinforces inequality. The current Constitution and modern Bolivian society are both built on the European model, with no consideration for existing conditions in Bolivia or appreciation for the inherent differences between post-enlightenment Europe and this largely agrarian South American nation. The legacy of colonialism has further strengthened strict social and economic divisions along the geographical and ethnic boundaries between the landed elite of European descent and the highland campesinos. There is inherent in Bolivian society a strong undercurrent of racism, clear enough that I have noticed it even in my short time here. Equally clear is how race becomes a manipulative political tool for sowing enmity between regions and ethnicities. I will offer some of my personal reflections on this in a later entry.

The proposed Constitution, and the political conflict surrounding it, is so important because it represents the concrete, radical change that could not be realized through the democracies of the 80s, the economic liberalization of the 90s, or the democratic rhetoric of today’s regional leaders. This last group, those representing a push for autonomy in the resource-rich eastern lowland departamentos, have further complicated the political situation. The autonomy movements, begun by Santa Cruz and taken up by Beni, Pando, and Tarija (which collectively form the geographical area known as the media luna), have dominated the news since I have arrived. Autonomy and referendum; these are the phrases that define the politics of the day, and they will need another entry to themselves before I have done justice to the background of the situation I am currently studying.

Welcome to Bolivia: Historical Summary Introduction

During my 7 weeks in Bolivia, I hope to construct a narrative of culture, politics, and society as I experience it through my observations and interactions with the Bolivian people. The experience will be a rich one for me, I am sure, but my primary purpose is to provide a first-hand perspective on what is commonly termed “Bolivia’s political crisis.” The occasional stories carried by the international news media do not accurately represent the complexity and importance of Bolivia’s current situation, and it is my goal to connect the dots to help people understand what is really happening here. This narrative, of course, will develop throughout my time here, as I come in contact with different individuals and circumstances and move from my current base in La Paz through other departamentos (states) and cities. This first entry, however, will provide some of the background information that has led me to where I am now.

Bolivia shares much of its history with the rest of Latin America: parallel stories of foreign conquest, Spanish colonization, and, since the continent-wide push for independence, economic imperialism and political instability. Bolivia in the 20th century was a nation ruled by systematic bouts of oppression and violence punctuated by periodic military coups and political overthrows. The slow emergence of democracy during the 80s and 90s was little more representative of the Bolivian people than the military dictatorships that preceded, as leaders were the products of an incestuous political system isolated from the country’s needs. The western-supported economic liberalization regimes of the 90s attempted to boost the Bolivian economy through privatization and foreign investment, but the fortunes of the average citizen did not improve and the economy continued to struggle. Corruption within the government, an unpopular US-backed coca eradication project that increased unemployment, and the perceived exploitation of Bolivia’s resources by foreign interests increased resentment of the political status quo.

Growing opposition to the privatization of Bolivia’s resources sparked waves of protests, including over the World Bank and IMF-backed privatization of the Cochabamba region’s water supply. Government response was harsh, killing many, but the tide of popular opinion was moving strongly against privatization. In the 2002 elections, former coca union leader Evo Morales finished a close second behind neoliberalism advocate and former President Gonzalo “Goni” Sanchez de Lozada, after a pre-election warning from the US ambassador that American aid and market access would be cut off if Bolivians elected Morales. The issue that finally broke the political scene open was the struggle over control of Bolivia’s hydrocarbon resources. The “Gas War” peaked in 2003 with widespread protests by indigenous and labor groups demanding control of the industry, currently owned by foreign investors. The government responded with harsh military repression that left over 60 peasant protestors dead. Sanchez de Lozada and his defence minister were both forced to flee the country, and currently reside in the United States. Rumors of U.S. political asylum being granted to both have sparked a series of protests here in La Paz in the past several weeks, and the Bolivian government plans to seek extradition to try both for the “massacre of Black October”. Vice President Carlos Mesa, who took over the presidency, unsuccessfully tried to resolve the gas conflict and resigned in defeat. With the country on the brink of chaos, elections were hastily called for 2005, allowing just a few months for campaigning.

Riding the wave of social discontent, Evo Morales of the party Movimiento a Socialismo (MAS) won 54% of the vote, the first absolute majority in Bolivian history. His victory brought relative stability, thanks to support from Bolivia’s indigenous majority and the social movements which had so actively opposed neoliberal economic policies. Following through on one of his central campaign promises, Morales nationalized the hydrocarbon industry on May 1, 2006. This unconditional rejection of foreign economic dependence promises rewards but carries great risks: Bolivia finds itself economically isolated from many foreign investors, including the U.S., Spain, and Brazil, but hope for increased economic equality and prosperity in the poorer economic sectors is high. The second of Morales` controversial campaign promises was a reformed Constitution, intended to alter the traditional political and economic systems in favour of Bolivia’s historically marginalized peasant indigenous majority.

This brief historical summary sets the stage for the current era of politics in Bolivia, and the one that I am studying. Many of the same issues of economic inequality, political voice, and national identity remain central. However, the complexity of the current crisis demands at least another full entry to give enough background to understand what I am studying this summer.