Last Friday Bolivian president Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada
left a letter of resignation on his desk in the presidential palace
before he and his family fled the country for Miami via Santa Cruz.
It was a disgraceful way for a country to change its leader — and
a tragic day for Bolivian democracy. And it should be seen as
“nothing short of a coup d’état.”
So says Rene Mariaca, a retired Bolivian judge and, as of last
year, my father-in-law. Calling it a coup is not
hyperbole: The facts on the ground point to a very real
revolutionary process. The seditious uprising of thousands of
miners, peasants, union leaders, coca-leaf farmers, and indigenous
groups in Bolivia and their take-over of the capital city of La Paz
toppled the presidency of U.S.-educated Sánchez de
Lozada.
At first, Bolivian protesters simply appeared opposed to the
government’s plan to export the country’s staggering natural gas
reserves. Never mind that economists have estimated the country’s
demand to amount to 5 percent of total reserves over the next few
decades; protesters were determined not to sell any of Bolivia’s 55
trillion cubic feet of gas to foreigners. But it soon
became clear that other, more sinister, ideological forces were at
work.
Stirred up by the revolutionary rhetoric of Evo Morales —
advocate for the country’s coca-leaf farmers, member of Congress,
and darling of the International Left — protesters rejected the
president’s concessions and refused to end their occupation of the
city. One protester told a reporter, “You can’t negotiate with this
gringo … Now we want his head.”
Morales — along with Felipe Quispe, another powerful indigenous
leader, head of the anti-U.S. MIP political party, and a former
member of the Tupac Katari guerrilla army — speaks for a vulgar
strain of populism that rejects global capitalism and demonizes
anything that is not native to Bolivia. Morales’s followers blend
socialist ideas with a promotion of the coca-leaf industry.
Quispe’s followers, in turn, blend virulent anti-Americanism with a
hatred of anyone considered a k’ara (white). Much of the
international press coverage last week focused on the plight of the
Bolivian people, portraying the protesters as noble combatants in
the war against globalization.
“But it wasn’t globalization they were fighting,” counters
Fernando Ascarrunz, a political scientist from La Paz. “Theirs was
a blow against democratic governance and the rule of law.”
He’s not wrong. Although Sánchez de Lozada was elected
last year with only 22.5 percent of the vote — forcing his
government into a coalition with other leading political parties —
it was still a legitimate government which worked closely with
local civil society, the international community, and the U.S. But
perhaps he was doomed from the start; Morales had help from some of
the world’s most roguish leaders.
Earlier this year, El Universal in Caracas reported
that Morales received a personal gift of more than $1 million from
Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez to support Bolivia’s indigenous movement.
Perhaps this was a reward for offering Chavez his unconditional
support during his difficult times in February. In fact, according
to press reports from Caracas, back in February, Morales flew in a
broad-based coalition of cocaine growers and pressure groups from
Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru to join in a show of support
for Chavez.
The friendship between Morales and Chavez is important. The two
are in frequent telephone communication and reports from Venezuela
said that during the uprising in Bolivia, Chavez offered
step-by-step advice each day.
An agent at a travel agency in La Paz has also confirmed that
Morales has flown twice to Libya this year alone, most recently
coming back at the end of September. The Bolivian press reported
that he was the recipient of a $50,000 prize from Qaddafi, although
Morales has denied this.
Members of Colombia’s FARC rebels have also been found in
Bolivia’s coca-growing Chapare region where Morales has his base of
support. A Colombian national was arrested recently in possession
of instruction manuals on fomenting revolution and staging
guerrilla warfare. Meanwhile, several websites proudly display
photographs of Morales conducting teach-ins on political
subversion.
During a recent radio interview, former Peruvian military
officer Major Antauro Humala admitted he had provided equipment and
personnel to the uprising that began in El Alto, the city sitting
on the edge of La Paz. He also discussed his close links to the MIP
and his affinity for the Marxist guerrillas of Brazil’s Shining
Path.
Morales and his followers did not simply express their
opposition to government policies. Like a schoolyard bully, they
beat up on the city of La Paz until it cried uncle, causing more
than $4 million of damage in the process. For a week, the city was
cut off from the rest of the country. Food and water shortages were
widespread and the price of bread rocketed 120 percent in two days.
Twenty-eight people were detained with explosives and small groups
looted and vandalized local businesses, hotels, and private
residences.
Lacking adequate public facilities, the city saw its sidewalks,
streets and plazas become open sewers with thousands of people
relieving themselves. Health officials worried about an outbreak of
diseases. European tourists were picked up by officials from their
respective embassies and ushered out of the country.
“This will hurt us tremendously,” said my father-in-law. During
the unrest of last week, he and my brother-in-law were forced to
defend their business as a small mob outside tried to enter their
historic house. Other parts of the city organized armed
neighborhood watch committees.
During this unrest, Sánchez de Lozada repeatedly called
for dialogue and non-violence. But the crowds — fortified by
adrenaline, alcohol, and coca leaf — refused to reason. They would
not allow the city to return to normal until the president
resigned.
So Sánchez de Lozada — a man who helped stop
hyperinflation during the 1980s, set up a model regulatory system
during the '90s, and went to great lengths to broaden political
participation throughout his career — had little choice. He
resigned in order to return the peace, and then left, guessing,
correctly, that the peace would be only temporary.
There is a lingering a sense of injustice surrounding his forced
resignation felt by many of the non rioters. It is difficult to
understand why no one — Bolivians, the U.S., and the international
community included — would defend constitutional principles and
democratic governance. Last week’s events set a bad precedent for
Latin America — and for Bolivia in particular. Already, Quispe and
others have threatened to stage a similar uprising in 90 days if
the new president, former vice president Carlos Mesa, does not meet
their long list of demands.
