(January 7, 2008) Bolivia's National Palace is a
classic colonial building that sits on the
pigeon-filled Plaza Murillo in downtown La Paz. It's
more often called the "Palacio Quemado" or "Burned
Palace" because it's been set on fire repeatedly by
dissidents of one stripe or another over the
centuries since Bolivia gained its fragile
independence. Today, painted a cheery yellow, it
stands as a reminder of a conflictive past and a
fresh future.
During the colonial period the Spanish exploited
the country's mineral wealth without mercy, leading
to the death of hundreds of thousands of indigenous
mineworkers and uprisings that punctuated the
nation's history with blood and legends. Between
forced labor, the war of independence, and European
diseases, the new nation began its life as a
republic rich in natural resources but with a
decimated populace. In the words of an historian in
1831, Bolivia was like "a beggar seated on a throne
of gold."
In many ways, the nation's predicament changed
little over the two centuries of republican life.
The indigenous population, if no longer enslaved,
confronted permanent inequality in political
institutions and economic opportunities. The
constant flow of resource wealth to a criollo
eliteallied with foreign interestscut deep
channels into Bolivian society. Those flows changed
form but scarcely diminished with the advent of
globalization.
The government of President Evo Morales came to
power in January 2006 with bold plans to change all
this. Its main promise to its indigenous and
impoverished base of support was to reform the
constitution to assure the indigenous majority the
full exercise of its citizenship, and to
redistribute national wealth in favor of the poor.
Despite winning an absolute majority in the 2005
presidential elections, the Morales administration
has had considerable difficulty leveraging its
political capital into an efficient reform process.
Constitutional
Revision
For the fledgling government of President Evo
Morales, a new constitution is the cornerstone of
lasting change. The goal is to create a new legal
structure for Bolivian society that for the first
time in the nation's history respects and legally
recognizes diversity in a "plurinational" country.
The Constituent Assembly arose as a demand by
social movements in the 1990s and more specifically
in the Water War of Cochabamba in 2000-2001. In
recent years neoliberal governments made legal and
constitutional changes to grant private investors
near carte-blanche access to natural resources and
basic services, exposing the poor nation to one of
the most unequal and exploitive forms of
globalization found in the hemisphere. These legal
changes became the hallmark of their governments and
the source of their downfall.
For instance, in 2003 President Gonzalo Sanchez
de Lozada fled to the United States after his
government fired into a crowd of protestors, killing
dozens. He and former defense minister Sanchez
Berzain currently face extradition demands and a
lawsuit from the Center for Constitutional Rights
for damages related to the murder of 67 women, men,
and children in the September and October protests,
nearly all from indigenous Aymara communities.
After taking office the Morales government moved
rapidly to institute the Constituent Assembly. The
unprecedented process required establishing new
institutions and rules that have generated ambiguity
at times and conflict throughout. Acrimonious
negotiations, dualing mobilizations in the streets,
and overheated media warnings of ungovernability
held the nation in near permanent chaos from July of
2006 to the mandated deadline of Dec. 14, 2007. Much
of that time the assembly was suspended.
The government has been criticized frequently by
both the left and the right for errors of judgment
and procedure, but it has attempted to keep dialogue
open. The conservative opposition has taken a
confrontational stance toward the Constituent
Assemblypresided over by Quechua and women's rights
leader Silvia Lazarte from the outset. The loosely
coordinated opposition has zig-zagged between calls
for greater adherence to the law and illegal acts of
sabotage, including violence from civic committees
and local neo-fascist groups. Finally, some but not
all of the rightwing conservative parties launched a
boycott of the institutional process.
The Assembly faced one obstacle after another.
Debates over representation, regional autonomy,
landholdings, and an old issue of where the nation's
capital should be physically located (Sucre or La
Paz) tested the limits of a country facing
entrenched interests and the uncertainties of moving
from a historically unjust system to a new system
yet to be defined.
Toward Referendum
Finally on December 9 the assembly approved the
constitutional text with the required two-thirds
vote, but with a boycott of the major political
conservative party PODEMOS. The text now goes to a
national referendum, but only after a separate
referendum on the crucial issue of land reform.
In a recent interview with the CIP Americas
Policy Program, Vice President Alvaro Garcia Linera
stated that the conflicts have their roots in
Bolivia's history and reflect a fundamentally
healthy, if difficult, stage of democratic
redefinition.
Following the boycotted assembly, four of the
nine departmental governments declared autonomy,
with some leaders going so far as to threaten
secession. They have begun gathering signatures to
call a referendum on a far more radical form of
autonomy that would grant local governments broad
control over resources found in their territories
and erode central government authority and national
cohesion. Since these departments concentrate much
of the nation's oil and gas and agricultural
production, the move is a serious challenge to the
Morales government, which has responded by declaring
it divisive and illegal.
The text of the proposed constitution begins by
declaring that Bolivia is "a unitary, plurinational,
communitarian, free, independent, sovereign,
democratic, social decentralized state, with
territorial autonomies" that is founded on
"plurality and political, economic, judicial,
cultural, and linguistic pluralism."
The sheer quantity of adjectives reveals the
complexity of the political project underfoot. The
declaration of principles reflects the recent
history of Bolivia's grassroots struggles for
political representation for the indigenous majority
and similar efforts in other Latin American nations
with sizable indigenous populations.
It also addresses the age-old issue of the
balance of power between federal, state, and local
government by recognizing four types of autonomy:
departmental, regional, municipal, and indigenous.
The practical overlap here will be a challenge.
A detailed analysis of the 411 proposed articles
now becomes the task at hand of Bolivian society as
the constitution goes up for a popular referendum.
But the other key element worth mentioning is the
constitution's overall concept of building a state
that controls and regulates natural-resource use for
the public good. This is a political sea change from
the era when it was assumed that what was best for
the private sector was best for the nation.
Why Bolivia
Matters
To outsiders, Bolivia's upheaval may seem like
merely the latest in a seemingly endless series of
conflicts in a tiny nation known for political
instability.
The corporate-controlled media in the United
States have carefully crafted an image of a
relatively ignorant and violent populace running
rampant over hopelessly weak institutions. These
distorted images persist even though the deep
changes proposed by the government have been
conducted largely through legal channels and it has
been the conservative opposition that has sought to
undermine those processes.
The indigenous character of Evo Morales's
leadership and popular support plays like a subtle
but palpably racist sub-theme in the international
press, with the Wall Street Journal taking
the lead in Evo-bashing. An Indian president,
Morales is persistently portrayed as a pawn of
Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, and his deep ties
to traditional coca growers are recast as nefarious
drug lord activities. Numerous press reports portray
indigenous organizations as mindless mobs intent on
dismantling the remains of Bolivia's dubious
democratic institutions.
The viciousness of these attacks on the Morales
government best reveal the potential global impact
of what it's trying to do. Bolivia matters, to
everyone seeking more just and stable societies, for
two reasons that Vice President Garcia Linera
describes as the "two conquests of
equality"political justice and economic justice.
The government's attempt to establish conditions
for the full exercise of citizenship for indigenous
peoples goes beyond equal access to limited forms of
representative democracy. Recognizing the rights for
the 36 peoples mentioned in the new constitution
implies devising concrete mechanisms to harmonize
communitarian and liberal forms of justice and
government that have very different logics. Every
nation in the Western Hemisphere where indigenous
peoples have survived the genocidal campaigns of the
past five centuries faces this challenge.
The second challenge, the effort to harness the
sustainable use of natural resources for the public
good, tests the limits to change imposed by the
global neoliberal system. Can a country climb from
poverty to equitable development through
constitutional reform?
The answer will depend in large part on the
dynamics of Bolivian politics and the ability of the
political leadership. But it will also depend on the
extent of external limitations. In assessing those
limitations, Mexican political analyst Adolfo Gilly
points out "the inelastic limits that those who
govern run into, whether it be the ferocious
resistance of the classes that have been displaced
from power, and their political and economic
representatives, foreign as well as domestic; or the
steel cage in which the new global neoliberal order
encloses possibilities of action, along with the
imminent presence of its powerful material basethe
Pentagon, the military force of the United States;
or the material limits of scarcity, national
isolation, and poverty."
The Morales administration has so far sought to
break the ties that bind in various ways. It
announced withdrawal from the U.S.-run School of the
Americasnow called the Western Hemisphere Institute
for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC) but still often
referred to by the less cumbersome name it carried
prior to a 2001 revamping. SOA/WHINSEC is a military
training facility in Georgia that has produced a
long line of
dictators and torturers throughout the
hemisphere.
With respect to the global economy, the Bolivian
government decided to withdraw from the
International Centre for Settlement of Investment
Disputes of the World Bank, a trade arbitration
system characterized by its supranational powers,
lack of transparency, and bias toward investors.
Bolivia has sought renegotiation of its Free
Trade Agreement (FTA) with Mexico as well as
opposing an FTA with the United States, while
signing a People's Trade Agreement with Venezuela
and Cuba. In March of 2006 the government stated it
would not seek to renew its standby agreement with
the IMF, which was responsible for imposing
neoliberal policies that hurt the national economy
and its most vulnerable sectors.
International
Response
The response of the Bush administration to the
Morales government has been hostile but guarded.
U.S. Agency for International Development has moved
to directly fund projects in opposition regions to
strengthen resistance to the policies of Morales'
party, the Movement for Socialism (MAS), as part of
its "democracy-building" program.
The U.S. ambassador in Bolivia, Phillip Goldberg
has had frequent run-ins with the Bolivian
government over accusations of politically targeted
aid. The ambassador recently stated that the
relationship between the two countries was
"complicated" and emphasized that cooperation would
be focused on reducing coca cultivation. This
formulation is ominous given the wide differences
between the Morales government's policy of promoting
traditional coca growing while cracking down on
cocaine production, and the U.S. drug war model
centered on militarization and fumigation programs.
On the other hand, several Latin American nations
have stepped up to support Bolivia following the
termination of the Constituent Assembly. Brazil's
President Lula made a state visit and announced a $1
billion investment by the country's state-owned
petroleum company in oil and gas. The announcement
was particularly significant since Brazil's
semi-public gas giant Petrobras initially protested
the Morales government's nationalization of control
of its operations in the country and suspended
further investment. Chilean president Michelle
Bachelet also gave explicit support to the
beleaguered government by promising to finish the
Inter-Oceanic highway system.
Perhaps the most important determining factor in
the success of the Morales program will be its
relationship with progressive social movements of
indigenous peoples, workers, miners, women, and
others that created the revolutionary conditions
that brought the MAS to power. Not only is this the
government's base of support, but it is the true
source of national sovereignty and impetus for
democratic change. Although the Evo Morales
administration defines itself as "a government of
social movements," historians Forrest Hylton and
Sinclair Thompson rightly point out that the
relationship is far from simple and that it will be
crucial that the independence and political space of
those movements not be subsumed in the logic of the
state.
Bolivia today is an open laboratory. It might
seem an unlikely stage for such an ambitious
experiment: a landlocked nation of scarcely nine
million with strong vestiges of colonial rule and
the continent's highest poverty rate. Yet the effort
to use the state to retake and redistribute
resources ceded to private economic interests under
globalization, to enfranchise indigenous
populations, to narrow the appalling gap between the
haves and have-nots of our era deserves a chance and
will no doubt provide lessons for the rest of the
world.
Laura Carlsen (lcarlsen(a)ciponline.org)
is director of the Americas Policy Program (www.americaspolicy.org)
at the Center for International Policy in Mexico
City, where she has been a writer and political
analyst for two decades. This article was first
published in the Americas Program of the Center for
International Development and may be accessed at
http://americas.irc-online.org/am/4876