November 2005

AN ELECTION FOR CHANGE AND PROMISE

Bolivia: an Amayra for president

by Maurice Lemoine

THERE is a tin mine at Huanini, among the labyrinthine crevices of
the altiplano (1). Compared with gold, silver, oil or gas, tin is a
modest reason to pierce 240 metres into the earth and struggle
through kilometres of oppressive tunnels, but it is a reason, and so
850 miners extract the metal, earning around $125 a month. The mine
is open 24 hours a day. "And we work Sundays," says a miner, "to earn
triple time." Huanini's workers have nothing to lose. When they have
to, they storm La Paz, dynamite sticks in hand. "There have been
deaths, but we played a key role in ousting Goni and Mesa," the same
miner says.

"Goni" is Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada, Bolivia's ultra-liberal
president, overthrown in October 2003 by a popular uprising that left
86 people dead. Carlos Mesa was his vice-president and successor, who
stepped down on 6 June 2005, after three weeks of unrest.

Since 1985 all Bolivian governments, including purported leftwing
ones, have dogmatically pursued the economic policy set forth in
directive 21060, centred on the privatisation of mines, telecoms,
water, electricity, transport, and the oil and gas sector.

Privatisation of the tin mines brought 25,000 redundancies and a
severe blow to the Central Obrero Boliviano (COB), of which the
miners had been the heart. The COB was the main counterweight to
state power in Bolivia from the April 1952 revolution until the
1980s, and led the struggle against dictatorship. But after the
mining redundancies came factory closures and the fall of the iron
curtain, and by the end of the 1980s the Marxist-dominated movement
had lost much of its force. The social battlefield was empty, or so
it seemed. In fact, as sociologist Alvaro García Linera explains,
"Society then created other forms of representation and political
action: social movements, structured around area networks".

Problem number one: surviving

The first were the cocaleros of the Chapare region. Producing coca
was the solution to the locals' number one problem: survival. But
Washington made no secret of its displeasure. In its crusade against
narcotraffic, the White House is obsessed with coercive policies of
repression and forced eradication to get rid of coca and cocaleros,
making no distinction between them. But a leader emerged to stand
against the United States: an Aymara called Evo Morales.

In 2000 resistance started in Cochabamba, whose people kicked out
Bechtel, the multinational that extracted vast profits from
privatised drinking water. Things stirred in Bolivia. The
establishment began to teeter. Spreading out from the cocalero
movement, Morales created a wider, national body: the Movimiento al
Socialismo (MAS), more a confederation of social organisations than a
political party. Elected as a congressman in 1997, he lost the 2002
presidential election by a narrow margin, but MAS won 36
parliamentary seats (including Morales's own seat). Municipal
elections two years later made it the largest party in the country.

Other organisations worked in parallel to MAS. These included the
powerful Sole Confederation of Campesino Workers of Bolivia (CSUTCB),
the social base for the radical Pachakuti Indigenous Movement (MIP),
and the Bolivian Landless Movement (MST-B). The remains of the COB
and its affiliated Regional Labour Confederations (COR), were active,
along with cooperatives and water protest movements. Neighbourhood
committees sprang up, most importantly in El Alto, a dormitory slum
perched on ochre dust 15 minutes' walk above the city of La Paz, and
home to 800,000 former peasants and miners. There the Federation of
Neighbourhood Committees (Fejuves) stood up to Aguas de Illimani, a
subsidiary of multinational Suez-Lyonnaise des Eaux.

After water came the fight for gas. Bolivia produces oil and has the
largest gas reserves in Latin America after Venezuela. The
constitution enshrines the state's inalienable ownership of all
natural resources "in the ground". But, shockingly, Law No 1689 was
passed on 30 April 1996 to allow private ownership of hydrocarbons as
soon as they pop out from "in the ground" - right from the top of the
wells. Exploration, exploitation, transport, refining and
distribution all fell into the hands of the multinationals. Oil and
gas reserves discovered after 1996, or unexploited up to then, were
considered new and therefore taxed at 18%. The rate on old reserves
was 50%, although the most flagrantly artificial excuses often
sufficed to have them reclassified as new.

Ignoring popular anger, Sánchez de Lozada planned largescale
exportation of liquefied natural gas to California. The project would
have enriched the Pacific LNG consortium but impoverished Bolivia. It
involved the construction of a pipeline across Chile, Bolivia's sworn
enemy since the disastrous war of 1879. When people protested, "Goni"
had his forces fire on the crowd. When they refused to be cowed, he
fled to the US. Vice-president Carlos Mesa took over.

The forces representing the people shared two main demands: that the
state regain control over natural resources and nationalise
hydrocarbons, and that a constituent assembly be created. Under
pressure, and with Morales's backing, Mesa organised a referendum on
hydrocarbons, held on 18 July 2004. A majority of 70% voted to
reclaim their national property.

On 21 October Congress passed a new law increasing state intervention
in the oil industry and creating a direct tax on hydrocarbons, 32% at
production. Combined with the 18% tax already in force, this brought
the state's share of revenues to 50%. Mesa tried to fight this law,
which he considered abusive and confiscatory. Many, including MAS,
saw it as a step forward. But the radicals of the COR and the
Fejuves, along with the COB and the MIP, saw it as betrayal. They
wanted full nationalisation and no compensation for ousted
multinationals.

This is the key to the chronic fragmentation of this powerful
protest, which is capable of such unity in times of crisis.
"Territorial, ideological, religious and class differences" divide
the movement, explained García Linera, whom many consider its
ideologue: "This movement builds community-based units working on
everyday problems - water, electricity. In times of tension, these
turn into a force for collective action, which works as a mass
movement at the peak of the confrontation, only to fall back into the
old divisions once the common goal has been achieved."

Under attack

In the 2002 elections Washington joined the Bolivian right in
branding Morales a "narco-cocalero", an "agent of Chávez and Castro",
and a "friend of [Colombia's Revolutionary Armed Forces] the Farc".
But now the MAS leader is being attacked from the left, as the more
radical elements in the movement criticise him. "Evo is a traitor,"
claims Jaime Solares, leader of the COB. "He promised to fight for
nationalisation and he hasn't done it. He's in cahoots with the
government." There are many conspiracy theories that describe Morales
as an agent of the CIA and believe in a US State Department strategy
to stifle social protest in Bolivia.

But Morales has stood firm: "There has been no pact with Mesa, no
alliance. When there are unwelcome proposals, we reject them. When
there are good ones, such as the referendum, we support them." MAS
did attack Mesa when it transpired that the president planned to wait
until the protests ran out of steam. The result was the opposite: the
unrest did not calm as radicals and moderates from rural and urban
areas increased efforts, even harder when the neoliberal right began
to reorganise in its rich, white strongholds of Santa Cruz and
Tarija. There, civic committees began to demand autonomy, allowing
each region total control of its financial and natural resources.
Since most of Bolivia's oil and gas is in these eastern provinces,
this was a ploy to allow a return to the earlier conditions that had
favoured the multinationals, staunch allies of the elite.

El Alto descended on the streets of La Paz. There was a proposal to
set up a revolutionary assembly, a basis for a workers' and peasants'
state under COB leadership. For moderates, this proposed soviet,
which aimed to overwhelm the conciliatory Morales, was a hard-left
provocation that would play into the hands of the right. The COB
leadership called on the army to act, as though the years of
dictatorship had never happened. Amid rumours of an imminent coup,
Morales denounced the ambitions of the Nación Camba autonomy movement
around Santa Cruz, but he favoured a constitutional resolution to the
conflict. The opposition, which is made up of many changeable and
often opportunist organisations ready to make pacts, do deals and
betray each other, would not compromise. Bringing Bolivia to a
standstill, it forced Mesa to resign on 6 June 2005.

Constitutionally, Congress could have allowed the senate speaker,
Hormando Vaca Diez, to assume the presidency. Vaca Diez, the senator
for Santa Cruz for the Left Revolutionary Movement party (MIR), which
had become neoliberal and corrupt, had support from the establishment
parties: New Republican Force (NFR), Nationalist Democratic Action
(ADN) plus Sánchez de Lozada's MNR. But the people did not want him,
as a landowning grandee certain to appease the oil lobby. The revolt
continued. Mario Cossío (MNR), speaker for the lower house and an
ally of "Goni", was next in line. But Congress, fearing a civil war,
took the safer option of Eduardo Rodríguez, head of the supreme court
and the only candidate in a position to call early elections. He
negotiated a political agreement to end the chaos, and had Congress
approve an amendment to the constitution (article 93), before naming
the election day.

"Historic elections"

"These are historic elections," says Alex Contreras, head of the
First of May People's School in Cochabamba. Given Morales's excellent
chances, it is a widely held view. "For the first time, Bolivia's
popular and indigenous movements are on the verge of taking power."
Morales would be the first indigenous president in South America.

Yet after this joint triumph, the social movement's two main blocs
returned to their quarrels. The more radical elements, grouped around
the COB, the MIP and the El Alto Fejuves, are most active in the
Aymara areas on the altiplano, where they make much of the ethnicity
issue. MAS and its allies enjoy support among peasant farmers but
have a more inclusive, nationwide approach. They are popular with
urban wage-earners, having established links with corporations and
integrated a larger number of mixed-race Bolivians.

At the COB headquarters Solares speaks of nothing short of a full
"worker-peasant revolution: that means seizing power by popular
insurrection". His symbolic vocabulary may be a ploy to divert
attention from his shady past (2). "We, the workers, believe that we
are on the cusp of civil war or revolution," he declares. An astute
observer notes the COB no longer has many supporters, but "it hides
its limited ability to mobilise - driven only by indigenous people
and peasants -behind ultra-radical rhetoric. It poses as the left's
guilty conscience. Solares knows his spiel is unrealistic, but he
doesn't care: he keeps cornering MAS by taking the liberty to say
whatever he likes."

Roberto de la Cruz, leader of the COR in El Alto, employs similar
tactics. He proclaims radical ideas: setting up a popular assembly,
sending shock squads to fight the cambas, creating an army of
national liberation. He is ideologically confused, but decisive and
rousing in crisis, as is Abel Mamani, head of the El Alto Fejuves,
said to have the virtue of understanding that resistance is vital. He
has a winning hand in resistance, although he is politically
inexperienced.

Felipe Quispe leads the CSUTCB indigenous peasants' movement. During
the 1980s and early 1990s he led the Tupac Katari guerrilla army
(EG-TK) until he was arrested and jailed for five years. Quispe
dreams of a new Collasuyo (3). "We want to build our own confederate
state, our own government led by an indigenous president, our own
army, our own economy as the descendants of Huyana Capac, the
sovereign government of the Incas." Seeing the situation as a race
war, he makes no distinction between right and left among
non-indigenous people, known as q'aras. His view of recent events
was: "The people have triumphed. We beat both Mesa and MAS, which had
done a deal with him."

Political and ideological differences between the factions exist. But
the divisions are also, perhaps primarily, the result of personal
rivalries. Quispe did not appreciate being supplanted by his younger
fellow cobrizo (4), Morales, as leader of the indigenous peoples and
the opposition at large. There is resentment from less powerful
leaders, too. Mamani does not dispute Morales's position, but refuses
to be subordinated to him.

Leaders of the COB, the MIP and the Fejuves are frustrated by the
unique success of MAS in spreading from the local to the national
level. These organisations all dream of forming a new political
force, but none has the means to do so.

The combination of personal ambition and ideological confusion can
have strange effects. Solares claimed that Morales "has never spoken
for the workers or the proletariat: he only has time for coca, rural
territories and [indigenous] identity" before announcing: "We are
going to form a grand revolutionary alliance with Felipe Quispe," the
most intransigent indigenous leader in Latin America. Solares's
vice-presidential candidature in alliance with Quispe and the MIP
fizzled out. Mamani has promised to support either MAS or the group
of six mayors (of La Paz, Cochabamba, Potosí, Sucre, Oruro and
Cobija), who claim to represent the modern left but are in fact
deeply divided in strategic and ideological terms, several being
markedly neoliberal.

Even the smaller organisations play hard to get. "Their decisions are
not based on the underlying issues," says Contreras, "but on what
will earn them the most power in Congress, being with MAS or against
it." This climate has prevented, or at least delayed, the formation
of any real alliance. Morales has been known to sigh: "If only we
were as good at replacing presidents in Latin America as we are at
kicking them out." He says: "We hope all parties will participate.
But we have to consider the situation seriously. I do not take a
maximalist position proposing armed struggle and insurrection, or a
coup. I'm banking on a new social and economic model born of popular
consciousness and democracy."

The demand from below

Is this a pre-revolutionary crisis with insufficient political
expression? Not necessarily: the people do not always follow those
who claim to represent them. In El Alto, as Nestor Guillén of Villa
el Ingenio (Fejuves) explains, the demonstrations were originally
organised by the leaders -"Comrades, we must take to the streets".
But the situation gradually changed. Now, local residents decide: "We
must get out and march." The demand comes from below. "El Alto's
capacity for mobilisation doesn't depend on the Fejuves," says
Guillén, "but on what neighbourhood and block-based assemblies
decide. Without them, Mamani can call all the demonstrations he
likes; no one will follow him." The majority of El Alto's inhabitants
voted in the referendum on hydrocarbons, despite their leader's calls
for a boycott. In so doing, they implicitly backed MAS and look
likely to do so again in the forthcoming elections.

Quispe shot himself in the foot in 2002 by renouncing his
congressional seat shortly after being elected (for the MIP, which
has six seats). "I'd rather do the political work I've always done,
out in the field," he declared. Asked whether he hoped to return to
parliament, he replied with characteristic frankness: "I wasn't born
to be a congressman; I was born to be president." The episode damaged
his reputation. "That attitude shows that he's not cut out to be a
politician," Guillén concludes. Morales "took up his parliamentary
seat, has stayed at the helm, kept up the struggle and consistently
opposed the system".

This August MAS scored a decisive point by naming García Linera as
its vice-presidential candidate. The sociologist had fought alongside
Quispe in the EG-TK; he had been imprisoned until 1995. García Linera
is influential within the social movement. His position has earned
him kudos and credibility: "I've been a guerrillero and I don't
regret it; I'm still the same as I was 15 years ago; it's just that
I've changed tactics." Soon after his nomination, six peasant
federations pledged their support to MAS, as did sections of the
mining cooperatives, the important COR of Oruro, Potosí and
Cochabamba, transport workers from El Alto and even the Fejuves (5).
García Linera's position as one of Bolivia's most influential
intellectuals extended MAS influence into academia and the middle
classes. Polls showed a surge in popularity for MAS, to the detriment
of the US-preferred candidate, Jorge Quiroga of the ADN.

The neoliberals panicked. Hoping to gain breathing space, they sought
to have the elections postponed. Forgetting that the early elections
had only been called thanks to a political agreement to act outside
the constitution, the congressmen of Santa Cruz went to the
constitutional court on 4 August and pointed out that the
constitution stipulates that seats in Congress be distributed
according to the latest census figures. The results of the 2001
census had not been taken into account. Since it showed population
rises in La Paz, Santa Cruz and Cochabamba, they had the right to
greater parliamentary representation. On 22 September the court
upheld the objection, leading to uncertainty and unrest.

Whatever the precise date of the election, its main themes are
already established: the creation of a constituent assembly and the
nationalisation of hydrocarbons. MAS is confident of victory, but
does not intend to do anything rash. "Nationalisation without
compensation," notes Contreras, "would take us back to the 1960s. But
in such a small country, dependent on international aid, it would put
us in a worse situation than Cuba faces with the blockade [US
embargo]" (6). García Linera agrees: "It is a question of power
relationships. I favour a pragmatic solution. What are you going to
do about Petrobras otherwise? [That company is backed by] the
government of Brazil, a nation of 80 million people! We have to show
prudence."

Morales sums up: "A lot of multinationals live off illegal and
anti-constitutional deals, smuggling and tax evasion. We will enforce
the law. But we are banking on nationalisation through dialogue and
consensus." In perspective, this resembles the strategy of
Venezuela's Bolivarian revolution under Hugo Chávez: development in
which the state plays a central role, but that can involve foreign
investment. MAS's plans for a constituent assembly also resemble
Venezuela -since the majority of Bolivia's inhabitants are indigenous
people, it will be their majority assembly and will be granted full
sovereignty, to the chagrin of the white elite.

The US is not wrong to brand Morales enemy number one. "It is no
secret that Evo Morales reports back to Havana and Caracas,"
Washington's assistant secretary of state for western hemisphere
affairs, Roger Noriega, said recently. To which Morales replied, on
31 July, upon formally declaring his candidature: "Chávez and Fidel
are in no way part of any axis of evil. They are the commanders of
the liberating forces of this continent." His moderation knows its
limits.
________________________________________________________

NOTES

(1) The high Andean plateau that stretches from western Bolivia to
southeastern Peru.

(2) There is evidence that Solares used to act as an informer for
state security services, turning in several miners' leaders.

(3) The eastern, largest province of the Inca empire: western
Bolivia, parts of southern Peru, northern Argentina and Chile.

(4) Copper-coloured, as indigenous radicals in Bolivia describe
themselves.

(5) MAS neutralised Mamani by naming him candidate for prefect of La
Paz, where he has no chance of winning.

(6) Petrobras (Brazil), Repsol-YFP (Spain-Argentina), British Gas
(UK) and Total (France) have all announced freezes of their
investments in Bolivia. Multinational companies have invoked
international agreements on the protection of investments to
challenge the new hydrocarbons law and protect their interests.

From Le Monde Diplomatique. Translated by Gulliver Cragg