Bolivia: TIPNIS Marchers Face Accusations and Negotiations

Emily Achtenberg, August 26, 2011

After a week of polarizing rhetoric and escalating conflict, the government and indigenous groups protesting construction of the TIPNIS highway have begun negotiations. While the outcome of the process is uncertain, it’s even less clear whether the fractured political alliance between President Evo Morales and the indigenous groups that helped bring him to power can be repaired.

After a week of polarizing rhetoric and escalating conflict, the government and indigenous groups protesting [1]the construction of a highway through the TIPNIS reserve and indigenous territory have taken the first steps towards negotiation. While the outcome of the process is uncertain, it’s even less clear whether the fractured political alliance between President Evo Morales and the indigenous groups that helped bring him to power can be repaired.

The initial meetings between MAS (Movement Towards Socialism) government officials and up to 1,500 marchers who have completed the first 70 miles of a 375-mile cross-country trek from Trinidad to La Paz are a preliminary step towards promised negotiations with President Evo Morales. The march, which began on August 15, is sponsored by indigenous peoples of the TIPNIS reserve and the lowlands indigenous federation CIDOB, with the participation of CONAMAQ, the highland indigenous federation, and numerous other indigenous and environmental organizations.

The meetings capped a tumultuous week of events that threatened to permanently undermine the possibility of negotiations.

Upon their arrival in San Ignacio de Moxos, the marchers were welcomed by local residents but also confronted [2] by a mob of campesinos, cocaleros, and other MAS loyalists who broke windshields of their support vehicles and initially blocked their exit route. Stores and public facilities were closed, depriving the marchers of access to food and water.

While the MAS government denied responsibility for these provocations, the government’s consistently disparaging remarks about the indigenous protestors created a climate of hostility that invited confrontation. The rhetoric ranged from repeated accusations of manipulation by NGOs and partisan political interests, to Morales’s infamous suggestion [3] that campesino youth should “go out and seduce the Yuracaré women” to enlist their support for the TIPNIS highway.

The protesters also accused the government of creating a false polarization with local interests by portraying their position as outright opposition to the road. “We support the road coming to San Ignacio,” said TIPNIS leader Adolfo Moye [4]. “What we’re opposed to is the route that cuts through the TIPNIS.”

Initial efforts by MAS cabinet ministers to open a process of dialogue along the march route broke down when the protesters refused to meet with anyone but Morales. While the government stated that Morales was “too busy” to travel, and that a direct meeting without preliminaries would violate official protocol, protest leaders noted that Morales had just met [5] in Villa Tunari with indigenous leaders of CONISUR, a rival governing body representing 18 communities in the southern TIPNIS, which they view as illegitimate. After the meeting, CONISUR issued a resolution conditionally supporting the TIPNIS road.

While continuing to invite the marchers to dialogue, the MAS government then launched a ferocious rhetorical offensive in an effort to further discredit the protest leaders and the march itself. On Sunday, August 21, Morales accused three indigenous leaders of working with the U.S. government to incite the mobilization, based on telephone logs evidencing their calls to and from Embassy personnel.

The purpose of the march, he stated, was not to defend the environment, but to destabilize the Bolivian government. “It’s a strategy of U.S. imperialism [6] to prevent the national integration (of Bolivia), and to provoke a confrontation between peoples of the east and west,” Morales told reporters.

As further evidence, Morales cited the expansion of the protesters’ demands to a 16-point agenda including the cessation of petroleum extraction activities in other regions. These demands, he said, would cut off revenues for social programs and paralyze the national economy.

On Monday, Minister of Government Sacha Llorenti revealed that the telephone logs had been obtained for “national security [7]” reasons, based on allegations that explosives were present during the march and that the telephone calls could involve instructions for their use. A legislative commission was proposed to investigate alleged links between the protest leaders and the Embassy, to determine whether any laws or international conventions have been violated.

On Tuesday, Minister of the Presidency Carlos Romero charged that certain TIPNIS leaders were engaged in illegal trafficking [8] of land and wood within the protected reserve to benefit transnational timber and agribusiness interests. Opposition to the road, he alleged, was a pretext to protect these illicit activities, and to avoid increasing the government’s enforcement presence in the reserve.

On Wednesday, ex-Minister of the Presidency Juan Ramón Quintana accused CIDOB of receiving $100 million from USAID to promote a strategy of“transnationalizing” [9]the Bolivian Amazon, under the guise of environmental protection. The goal, he stated, is to “convert these regions into reserves like U.S. reservations for native Americans, in order to privatize the exploitation of natural resources” and promote conflicts between social organizations. The TIPNIS mobilization, he alleged, is a key part of this destabilization strategy.

The accusations have been treated with a healthy dose of skepticism by most Bolivians and do not appear to have undermined public support for the march. A few telephone calls hardly prove a conspiracy, and many familiar with WikiLeaks cables accept that Embassy personnel routinely maintain contact with diverse social sectors. Serious concerns have been raised about the government’s potential violation of privacy laws in obtaining telephone records without a court order.

According to the NGO Fundación Tierra, [10] the alleged association of some TIPNIS directors with illegal trafficking activities is common knowledge, but can hardly be considered a motive for the mobilization. And while it’s certainly plausible that CIDOB or some of its member groups have benefitted from USAID funding (as have many other organizations and programs in Bolivia, including the official Coordinating Unit [11] for the Constituent Assembly), this doesn’t invalidate the legitimacy of CIDOB’s protest activities. “These attacks by the government are only excuses to break up the movement, whose purposes are legitimate,” says RafaelQuispe [12] of CONAMAQ.

It’s possible that the government’s brutal rhetorical assaults helped bring the protesters to the negotiating table by raising internal doubts about their leaders, although the punishing conditions of the march—including heat waves, cold fronts, inadequate provisions, and the death of a child—were probably a more significant factor. But the climate is now so polarized, and the protesters so alienated from the government, that trust will be difficult to reestablish.

Even if the TIPNIS negotiations move forward, whether the fractured political alliance between Evo Morales and the indigenous groups that helped bring him to power can be repaired remains to be seen.

Republished from NACLA

Links:
[1] https://nacla.org/blog/2011/8/12/bolivia-indigenous-groups-march-against-tipnis-highway
[2] http://www.paginasiete.bo/2011-08-20/Nacional/NoticiaPrincipal/2Esp00120.aspx
[3] http://www.paginasiete.bo/2011-08-04/Opinion/Destacados/17Opi00104-08-11-P720110804JUE.aspx
[4] http://www.erbol.com.bo/noticia.php?identificador=2147483948693
[5] http://www.lostiempos.com/diario/actualidad/economia/20110820/indigenas-se-molestan-con-evo-y-le-dan-plazo_138463_283357.html
[6] http://www.la-razon.com/version.php?ArticleId=136096&EditionId=2629
[7] http://www.la-razon.com/version.php?ArticleId=136161&EditionId=2630
[8] http://www.lostiempos.com/diario/actualidad/economia/20110823/el-gobierno-acusa-a-dirigentes-del-tipnis-de-estar-comprometidos-con_138879_284420.html
[9] http://www.mre.gob.ve/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=15572:abi-bolivia-quintana-denuncia-inicio-de-segunda-fase-de-desestabilizacion-de-eeuu-contra-bolivia-a-traves-de-usaid&catid=187:actualidad-en-portada&Itemid=44
[10] http://www.ibce.org.bo/principales_noticias_bolivia/24082011/noticias_los_tiempos_bolivia.asp?id=22665;
[11] http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=109014
[12] http://www.bolpress.com/art.php?Cod=2011082203
[13] https://nacla.org/category/tags/bolivia
[14] https://nacla.org/category/tags/cidob
[15] https://nacla.org/category/tags/conamaq
[16] https://nacla.org/category/tags/evo-morales
[17] https://nacla.org/category/tags/isiboro-s%C3%A9cure
[18] https://nacla.org/category/tags/mas
[19] https://nacla.org/category/tags/tipnis
[20] https://nacla.org/category/tags/usaid

Let Me Speak! A Bolivian Woman Miner’s Revolutionary Life

Ben Dangl

Reviewed: Let Me Speak!: Testimony of Domitila, A Woman of the Bolivian Mines, By Domitila Barrios de Chungara, (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1978).

The life experiences of Bolivian mining activist Domitila Barrios de Chungara traverse some of the most important and tumultuous events in 20th century Bolivian history. Her account of this life in the book Let Me Speak! offers a view from the trenches of militant, leftist organizing within the country labor movements and beyond.

Chungara’s account provides insight into the National Revolution of 1952, the failed guerrilla insurgency in Bolivia led by Che Guevara, the country’s brutal experience in the Cold War, and the frequent coups, dictatorial crackdowns and popular uprisings that marked the Andean country’s rocky century.

Let Me Speak! begins with Chungara’s descriptions of the labor she and her fellow workers go through. This work is excruciatingly difficult, and involves little sleep, poor income and a lack of sufficient food, housing and services. As a woman, Chungara’s labor does not end with her work in and around the mines; she has to take care of her children, help them complete their school work, prepare food for the family and conduct an endless round of tasks both day and night to keep the family alive and able to work and attend school.

In a typical example of Chungara’s analysis of this labor, she said, “I think that all of this proves how the miner is doubly exploited, no? Because, with such a small wage, the woman has to do much more in the home. And really that’s unpaid work that we’re doing for the boss, isn’t it?” She explained, however, that by participating in the union as a woman she gained power over her work and freedom through advocating for women’s rights both in the workplace and at home.

This story of everyday struggle gives way to yet even more dramatic conflicts as a leading labor organizer both in her own mining community, and on a national level. This work comes at a cost however, as the mine owners and government officials are constantly trying to harass, beat and intimidate Chungara into submission. At one point she is jailed and tortured, but eventually escapes. At other points she is a witness to bloody massacres of miners, and brutal government repression of strikes and labor meetings.

Chungara’s account describes the ideology that underpins the potency of the mining sector in Bolivia at this time. Her recurring references to the importance of solidarity between comrades, analysis of US imperialism in its crackdown on communism and leftists in general, and her conviction that she is struggling for a better future for her children, are traits she apparently shares with her fellow activists, workers and mothers.

Her interactions with manifestations of US political power and culture are also illuminating. In one case she describes how the Hugo Banzer dictatorship decided to crackdown on the labor organizing and consciousness that was empowered by the miners’ community radio by giving away free TVs to mining communities, while at the same time destroying the radio’s transmitters. According to Chungara, who refused the free TVs, the TVs replaced informative radio announcements tied to the miners’ everyday life and political formation with Disney cartoons and films from Hollywood. Chungara said this change provoked more greed and individualism and a breakdown in relationships between people of different generations. During another of her interrogations, Chungara also speaks with US officials in the office of the Alliance for Progress, an interesting exchange at a time of heightened tensions between the US government and communist sympathizers.

At one point in her story, the Banzer dictatorship sent government officials to Chungara’s mining community to try and end a strike. One of the officials argued against the striking miners by explaining that the country’s economic problems were due to the miners’ leftist ideology and recurring strikes. The official threw around a bunch of numbers to illustrate his point. Chungara’s response underlines the importance and power of her testimony’s perspective. “We don’t live off of numbers. We live from reality.”

Benjamin Dangl is the author of books Dancing with Dynamite: Social Movements and States in Latin America and The Price of Fire: Resource Wars and Social Movements in Bolivia (AK Press). He edits TowardFreedom.com, a progressive perspective on world events, and UpsideDownWorld.org, a website on activism and politics in Latin America. Email Bendangl(at)gmail(dot)com.

Republished from Towards Freedom

Separating Fact from Fantasy in Bolivia (Book Review of From Rebellion to Reform in Bolivia, by Jeffrey Webber)

Friday 19 August 2011, by Federico Fuentes - www.alborada.net

The election of Bolivia’s first indigenous president, on the back of a mass rebellion that overthrew successive governments has stirred great interest in this small Andean nation. Given that the Evo Morales government recently celebrated its 2000th day in power – a feat in its own right for a country that has had around 180 coups since 1825 – any serious attempt to explain the underlying dynamics of this decade long political process should be welcomed.

Combining his academic research and extensive fieldwork in Bolivia, Jeffrey Webber sets out to do exactly that in From Rebellion to Reform in Bolivia. Unfortunately, the end result leaves a lot to be desired.

The purpose of Webber’s book is to convince readers that the election of the Morales government actually represented a leap backwards that “steered the political conjuncture away from the radicalism of the streets towards the tamer terrain of electoral politics.” Furthermore, Webber attempts to argue that in place of moderate change, the Morales government has presided over a period of “reconstituted neoliberalism” that has brought about “almost no change” in the conditions of ordinary Bolivians.

Such an argument definitely goes against the grain of the overwhelming bulk of literature dedicated to the Morales government. But Webber defends his view as superior to those that “replace careful examination of empirical reality with the casual celebration of press releases issued from the presidential palace.” Only those that oppose the MAS government, says Webber, hold “a responsible perspective, authentically in solidarity with the popular struggles for socialism and indigenous liberation.”

Given the hostile tone of his sweeping attacks on the government and its supporters, one would expect a thorough and detailed analysis that patiently explains where it all went wrong. Instead we get a litany of errors and misleading statements. A classic example is Webber’s attempt to prove “the regional successes enjoyed by the [right-wing] autonomist movement in the early years under Morales” by pointing to two rallies “of great importance” that occurred in June 2004 and January 2005.... a year before Morales was even in power! But the biggest problem is not his inability to use facts that back up, rather than contradict his arguments. Rather, it is his failure to deal concretely with opposing viewpoints, the relationship between the government and social movements, and the achievements of the Morales government.

Straw Man Arguments

A constant attempt to confuse, rather than clarify, the key issues in debate runs right through Webber’s book. Anyone who expresses any sympathy with the Morales government is brandished as a “loyalist” and an advocate of reformist change through parliament rather than independent mobilisation from below. Yet everyone agrees that Morales’ election was only possible due to the preceding five years of social struggle. Similarly, a consensus exists regarding the importance of the constant mobilisation of social movements in defense of their government or defeating successive attempts to overthrow Morales. Given the absence of any evidence to suggest otherwise, one can only conclude Webber prefers to debate figments of his imagination rather than the real position of others.

In Chapter 2, Webber tries to open a potentially interesting discussion on the revolutionary character of the mass mobilisations between 2000 and 2005. But all we get is a theoretical debate abstracted from any discussion based on concrete reality. Absent, for example, is any discussion about the lack of emergence of alternate organs of popular power or an analysis of the military. Yet Latin American history demonstrates in every revolutionary situation, the question of the military has been crucial to its success or bloody defeat. Given Bolivia’s status as the world record holder for military coups, surely such an issue cannot be ignored. Unfortunately, in his quest to convince us that the only thing holding back socialist revolution in Bolivia is the Morales government, such issues are simply ignored.

Perhaps the clearest example of Webber’s inability to engage in constructive debate is his treatment of the positions expressed by Bolivia’s vice-president Alvaro Garcia Linera. Webber refers to an article by Linera on “Andean-Amazonian Capitalism” as evidence of Linera’s support for the Stalinist theory of “revolution by stages” and the creation of a new capitalist class to lead Bolivia down the path of “industrial capitalism.” Webber is free to disagree with Garcia Linera, but he should at least attempt to debate the real positions offered by the Bolivian vice-president.

In fact nowhere in Linera’s article does he advocate building an “industrial capitalist base” as part of a “revolution by stages”. Firstly, Linera clearly differentiates his position from the nationalism of old which foresaw a situation where “everyone would become industrious, modern, capitalist and wage earners.” In its place, Linera advocates “the construction of a strong state, that regulates the expansion of the industrial economy, extracts its surplus and transfers it to the communitarian sphere in order to promote forms of self-organisation and traditional Andean and Amazonian commercial development.” The latter requires stimulating the communitarian economy, until now “brutally subsumed by the industrial economy.”

For Linera, the immediate imposition of socialism is not possible “at least in the short term”, due to two reasons: the lack of both a strong, politically-orientated proletariat and the fractured nature of existing communitarian bonds within indigenous communities, the two pillars on which to construct socialism. In this context, Linera advocates “Andean-Amazonian capitalism” as a purely “temporary and transitory mechanism” aimed at strengthening “worker and communitarian forces for emancipation.”

A further factor, mentioned elsewhere by Linera, is the basic proposition that “no revolution can triumph if it is not supported by other revolutions in the world.” Webber seems to forget this in his attempts to slander Linera as a kind of modern-day Stalinist. This is ironic given Stalin’s position of building “socialism in one country”. Instead, the Bolivian government has systematically set out building anti-imperialist alliances with governments and social movements in order to help strengthen the global forces for change. This at least Webber is forced to begrudgingly accept, noting Bolivia’s alliance with Venezuela and Cuba as well as its initiative to stage a world peoples’ summit on climate change in April 2010.

Webber may claim this proves Garcia Linera is against implementing socialism overnight. And he is correct, but this is due to a very simple reason: in order to build socialism, the Bolivian masses must first have state power, something Webber seems to forget. Unable to destroy the capitalist state through insurrection, the Bolivian masses instead opted for the electoral route with the aim of wielding governmental power as an instrument for advancing their cause. The immediate challenge for this “government of the social movements” was to convert a fragile electoral alliance comprised of competing proletarian, plebian, campesino and middle class interest, into a united movement powerful enough to defeat the capitalist opposition. At the same time, Linera proposes working towards the “decolonisation of the state”, that is, the dismantlement of the existing capitalist state and its replacement with a new state resting on “worker and communitarian forces for emanicipation.”

One may disagree with this path, but it is just dishonest to represent it as a strategy that “acted to steer incredibly powerful mass demonstrations into constitutional exits, in which elite negotiations between established neoliberal politicians took precedence.” The opposite is in fact the case. With the government now in the hands of the social movements, all out struggle for power was unleashed, culminating in the civic-military defeat of the pro-capitalist insurrection of September 2008.

Class Struggle under Morales

Webber’s conviction that Morales’ election victory represented a shift from mobilisation to negotiation leads him to make ludicrous statements. For instance, Webber describes a period marked by a polarisation that threatened to plunge the country into civil war as characteristic of the “demobilization of independent political actions from below and an increasing reliance on elite negotiations.” Far from entering “tamer terrain”, the first Morales government was filled with constant street battles between pro and anti-government forces. Ultimately, victory was obtained, not via negotiations, but the crushing defeat of a coup attempt

Webber’s confusion on the question of independence from the government also leads him to tie himself in knots, in some cases to painting conservative forces as “radical”. Webber is convinced that the MAS loyalists oppose independent mobilisation; once again, this claim is false. The fact that no government in the last three decades has had to contend with as many conflicts and protests as the Morales government surely demonstrates that Bolivia’s social movements are far from subordinated to government dictates. This is true not only in the quantitative sense (regarding the number of protests and the largest one in Bolivian history, when one million marched in La Paz), but also in the qualitative sense (the profound nature of the combined military-social movement mobilisation to defeat the coup attempt). The key issue in debate is not that of independence from the government, but rather independence for what aims. That is, do these independent mobilisations serve to further fundamental change or are they simply expressions of corporative movements that prioritise self-interest?

On several key occasions, the Morales government has demonstrated its ability to maintain the maximum unity possible among the competing interests of corporative movements while pushing the process to the left. Chapter 4 of Webber’s book purports to demonstrate the opposite, where radical independent social movements are constantly struggling against a right-wing Morales government. Instead, it only serves to demonstrate Webber’s inability to understand such complex interactions and his selective use of facts.

Take for example his description of the events surrounding the 2006 conflict in Huanuni, where clashes between cooperative and wage-earning miners left 18 dead. Selectively choosing what information to provide and conceal from the reader, Webber claims that the situation can be characterised as a reformist government aligning itself with “the privileged layer of cooperative miners” to drown the revolutionary Huanuni miners in blood. Thankfully, according to Webber, the heroic resistance of the Huanuni miners forced the government to back down, but only temporarily, as Morales then proceeded as he always does, to water down his promises of further nationalisations.

Such a view of events however is only possible when omitting or falsifying facts. This occurs with even the simplest of details. Webber claims that the national miners’ federation (FSTMB) is made up of miners “employed by the state mining company COMIBOL”. But FSTMB also incorporates a much larger bloc of traditionally more conservative mineworkers from the private sector. Webber also tells us that the Posokoni hills were home to the state-employed Huanuni miners, and cooperative miners who existed in “far fewer in numbers.” At the time, the state-owned Huanuni Mining Company (EMH) employed 800 workers while some 4000 were affiliated to cooperatives working there. More broadly, miners in Bolivia are separated into state-employed miners, numbering 800; those employed in private sector, which total several thousands; and between 60,000 to 65,000 miners working in the cooperative sector. None of these sectors are organically part of the MAS, each have competing interests and needs, and all form part of the government’s social base. This may seem like fiddling over detail, but as we will see these elements are crucial to understanding the conflict.

Webber refers to a road blockade organised by Huanuni miners and local campesinos in September 2006 to demand more public investment in COMIBOL and the creation of 1,500 jobs, although at no time did this include the demand to incorporate the existing cooperative miners working in the surrounding mines. Ignored are the other 28 conflicts that were engulfing the mining sector at the time, each pitting different sectors and interests against each other and local communities. Despite the blockade in Huanuni shutting down one of the most important highways in Bolivia for three days, not once was violence used to deal with these conflicts, the preferred response of neoliberal governments. Instead, the government attempted to simultaneously resolve each individual conflict while negotiating a decree with all sectors that would cover the entire mining industry. The complexity of the situation where each sector was fighting to defend their own interests militated against coming up with a common agreement.

Nevertheless, the government agreed to the demands of the protestors at Huanuni, an elementary fact omitted by Webber. The problem was that this triggered a response from the much larger bloc of cooperative miners, who rejected the deal. Within days violence broke out in Huanuni as cooperative miners moved to take over the mine operated by EMH, a scenario that has occurred many times before. The clashes left 18 dead, with each side blaming each other for the confrontation and the country convulsed by the images of miners clashing with miners.

In response, Morales sacked his mining minister who was publicly criticised for his role in the ordeal. In his place was appointed a new minister closely aligned with the FSTMB. The new minister moved immediately to reach an agreement between representatives from both sides at Huanuni. The final result was the conversion of all 4000 cooperative miners into employees of EMH. The deal was supported by the local cooperative miners but rejected by the national cooperative miners federation, FENCOMIN, which declared it would demonstrate its “independence” through a series of mobilisations against the government. Contrary to Webber’s portrayal of the government backing down to FENCOMIN demands, the deal not only remained but was also followed by further attempts to nationalise mines.

While continued tensions between the different sectors prevented the government from carrying out its original plan immediately, it nevertheless continued pushing forward with its policy of reasserting state control. In February 2007 it moved to nationalise the Vinto tin smelter and announced the possibility of further nationalisations. At the time however it was the FSTMB-affiliated unions in the private sector, including those in the Colquiri mine, which threatened “independent” mobilisations against any further nationalisations. For some reason, Webber forgets to mention this fact. This is all the more startling given his attempts to portray the Colquiri mineworkers as part of the independent revolutionary left that need to be supported in their struggle against the Morales government. Or does Webber suggest we should have also come to their defense when the government, with the support of the Huanuni miners, announced its intention last April to nationalise the Colquiri mine (along with at least three others), and the “radical” local miners’ unions demonstrated their independence by protesting any such move?

Perhaps the most startling omission, and one that can only lead to the conclusion that there is a deliberate attempt by Webber to falsify history and attack the Morales government is that on May 1, 2007, the government decreed the state takeover of all mineral deposits! Going against Webber’s claim that Morales swung back to supporting FENCOMIN, the decree reaffirmed the strong alliance forged between the government and the FSTMB. While the decree was supported by FSTMB and the Huanuni miners, it was opposed by FENCOMIN.

It is clear that the picture is much more complex that Webbers simplistic portrayal of a so-called reformist government versus “independent, increasingly radical popular class forces.” Instead, the Morales government has clearly attempted to move forward with an integral policy for the mining sector, while taking into consideration competing self-interests among its base. To do so it has had to deal with a myriad of independent social forces, many of which have opposed progressive measures and sought to defend their own corporative interests. While not free from error, each time the government has attempted to stay in tune with its diverse base, while taking a clear leftist position. It has also worked to strengthen the position of those independent forces on the left, while working to win over other sectors to such a vision. Of course, all advances have not been solely the work of the government; the mobilisations of the Huanuni miners and other progressive sectors have been fundamental. The point is that the trend has been one of combined action from the social movements on the ground and in government. This dynamic relationship will continue to be critical if, for example, the miners in the private and cooperative sectors are to be won over to a radical perspective. What is clear is that far from selling out the movements or holding them back, in the majority of cases the government has played a role of uniting the social movements in order to press forward with the process of change.

“Reconstituted Neoliberalism”

What about the charge labeled against Morales by Webber that he is pursuing a policy of “reconstituted neoliberalism”? Is there any evidence to prove that the first Morales administration saw the “deepening and consolidation” of a new type of neoliberalism in disguise? That there has been “almost no change in poverty rates”? Even if we ignore the impacts of the global economic crisis, of capital’s constant attacks via economic sabotage, capital flight and coup attempts, and the governments urgent need to attend to an infinite amount of equally important and competing interests among its base, the facts speak for themselves.

Under Morales Bolivia’s GDP has doubled, state control over the economy has increased from 17% of GDP to 34% (a four-fold increase in monetary terms). As a result of the nationalisation of gas reserves, government revenues from this sector have jumped from US$673 million in the year before Morales came to power, to US$2235 million in 2010, representing a rise of almost 350%. During the same time, public investment has increased five-fold. Similarly, over the same period, poverty levels have fallen from 60% to 49.6%, while extreme poverty has dropped from 38% to 25%. The gap between the richest 10% and poorest 10% has shrunk from 128 times more wealth to 60 times more wealth. Average incomes have risen from US$950 in 2004 to US$1833 in 2010. On top of this access to basic services such as education, health, water and electricity have dramatically increased. What other neoliberal government (reconstituted or otherwise) can point to such figures?

How have these gains been possible? Fernando Ignacio Leiva - whose writings Webber directs our attention to - explains that they are the result of the Bolivian government’s economic policy, which he describes as the “formulation for an alternative to the present order.” Despite spending nine pages outlining Leiva’s position, he never once mentions this or Leiva’s description of Bolivia (and Venezuela) as “newly emerging alternatives actively and methodically seeking to constrain it within certain boundaries so that society and equity may thrive.” Also ignored is Leiva’s contention that Bolivia’s policy far from being neoliberal, is focused on “strengthening the capacity of the state to capture via the tax system part of the nation’s economic surplus and redirecting it toward micro and small producers in rural areas and cities.” Quite a stark contrast to Webber’s argument; no wonder he leaves this out!

Does this mean Bolivia is socialist? No, but then no one has ever argued that. Nevertheless, when we combine all this with the fact that Bolivia’s economy policy has been “nationalised” and is no longer dictated by the IMF or Washington, it is evident that important strides have been taken. Add to the mix the strengthening of “worker and communitarian forces for emancipation” that have politically, ideologically and militarily defeated the right and begun taking steps towards decolonising the state, there is little doubt that the Bolivian masses are in a far superior position to where they were five or ten years ago. Or how else does Webber explain why Morales continues to maintain tremendous support among Bolivia’s poor majority, or that no alternative project to its left has emerged?

There is still a long struggle ahead, no doubt full of tensions and contradictions. Critical to this struggle will be the deepening of similar processes elsewhere in the continent, which is why the Bolivian government has placed so much emphasis, not only on developing ties with other underdeveloped and anti-imperialist government, but with social movements from around the world. Yet one feels that none of this will be enough for Webber who would prefer they abandon their route in favour of an imaginary one in which socialism is installed overnight.

Bolivia: A Week At the Barricades

Emily Achtenberg Aug 19

It’s been a busy week in Bolivia, with major mobilizations by indigenous peoples in the Amazon marching against the TIPNIS highway, and by civic groups in Potosí and neighborhood organizations in El Alto who are demanding more, not less, development.

It’s been a busy week in Bolivia, with major mobilizations by indigenous peoples in the Amazon, civic groups in Potosí, and neighborhood organizations in El Alto. Despite the government’s allegations of conspiracy, what’s striking about these protests is the diversity of their protagonists and agendas, and the shifting alignment of interests coalescing around each set of issues.

An estimated 1,000 indigenous residents of the TIPNIS reserve, together with supporters from the lowlands indigenous federation CIDOB and the highlands indigenous group CONAMAQ, began the 300+ mile trek [1] from Trinidad to La Paz to protest the government’s plan to build a highway through their territory. Many arrived to the march by canoe or on foot. Participants include veterans of the historic 1990 March for Dignity and Territory along the same route, as well as a new generation of younger activists—such as Anahí Dignidad Lider [2], born 21 years ago during the march and bearing its name.

A number of groups that stand to benefit from the road formally registered their support for it this week, including the Chapare cocalero federations, Cochabamba factory workers, small business groups, and municipal associations, and elected officials of Villa Tunari and San Ignacio de Moxos at both ends of the route. But some allegiances were surprising. A faction of the Yuracarés [3], one of the three major indigenous groups in the park, endorsed the road, while the Beni Departmental Workers' Central [4] and the Beni Civic Committee [5], which vigorously opposed indigenous land titling in 2008, sided with the protesters.

In a significant development, the national peasant confederation CSUTCB, which has consistently backed the government in its recent conflicts with popular movements (including the Gasolinazo), announced its opposition [6] to the TIPNIS route. Still, some CSUTCB cocalero leaders who support the road have threatened to organize counter-mobilizations to block the march along the way. (The cocalero federations are also members of the CSUTCB.)

Some government officials suggested this week that alternative routes [7] bypassing the park may be considered. Others maintained that “construction of the highway will save the park, [8]” by establishing a stronger state presence to deter illegal loggers and narcotraffickers. The government has called on the protesters to dialogue, and insists that the march is unnecessary. The protesters say they will meet in La Paz or along the route, but only with President Evo Morales.

Elsewhere in Bolivia, popular organizations mobilized to demand more, not less, development from the government. In Potosí, a broad coalition of cooperative miners, peasant associations, and indigenous groups led by the civic organization COMCIPO held a massive demonstration to protest the government’s lack of progress in implementing the regional economic agenda agreed to last August, following a 19-day civic strike [9].

The agenda includes an international airport, a cement factory, a metal processing plant, resolution of an inter-departmental boundary dispute with neighboring Oruro, and the preservation of Cerro Rico (the mountain where Potosí’s world-famous silver mines are located, which is now in danger of collapse). While the government claims that advances have been made during the past year, COMCIPO leaders are frustrated with what they perceive as slow progress.

An initial meeting with government officials this week failed to achieve any results. COMCIPO has threatened to resume mobilizations if subsequent negotiations are not productive.

Meanwhile, in the indigenous city of El Alto, an “indefinite civic strike [10]” (paro civico) was initiated early in the week by FEJUVE, the militant federation of neighborhood councils that was chiefly responsible for bringing down two neoliberal governments during the Gas Wars of 2003-2005. Their demand: to advance the 2012 national census to 2011, in order to increase the resources available to El Alto based on its 50% population growth over the past decade. (El Alto is now the second largest city in Bolivia, after Santa Cruz.)

While the city’s mayor blamed a lack of federal funding for his failure to implement planned infrastructure projects, federal government officials said that El Alto’s budget is considerably underspent, and also that advancing the census was infeasible. Other key organizations in El Alto, such as the municipal workers’ central, did not join in the strike. However, for two days, the mobilization was partially successful in blocking roads into La Paz and elsewhere.

Here the MAS government fared somewhat better. After a six-hour negotiation in the presence of Evo Morales, a preliminary agreement was reached promising El Alto five new infrastructure projects, including an upgraded sports stadium and a hospital. However, two of FEJUVE’s 14 district councils refused to accept the settlement and are continuing their road blockades, for the moment.

Morales has been subject to harsh criticism [11] in the international press this week for the proliferation of social conflicts, and especially for his double discourse on environmental issues at home and abroad. Overall, he has sought to downplay the protests by alleging that a “conspiracy” [12] by domestic oppositional forces, or perhaps by USAID [13], is behind them.

With multiple sectors continue to press their demands amidst a complex and ever-changing set of alliances, it will take less rhetoric and a lot more direct intervention by Evo Morales to keep the lid on Bolivia’s social movements in the coming weeks and months.

Republished from NACLA

Bolivia: Indigenous Groups to March Against TIPNIS Highway

Emily Achtenberg, August 13, 2011

On August 15, representatives of three indigenous groups and their supporters will begin a 375-mile trek from Trinidad in the Bolivian lowlands to the highland capital of La Paz, to protest the government’s plan to build a highway through their ancestral homeland known as the TIPNIS (Isiboro-Sécure Indigenous Territory and National Park). The march opens a new chapter in the increasingly conflictive relationship between leftist president Evo Morales and the social movements that brought him to power.

The TIPNIS is both a national park and a self-governing territory, that combines indigenous autonomy (granted under Bolivia’s 2009 Constitution) with environmental protection. Legal title to the land and resources in this 3,860 square mile preserve is held in common by the Yuracaré, Moxeño, and Chimán people.

This unique model had its origins in an earlier cross-country march organized in 1990 by lowlands indigenous organizations, which Morales accompanied as leader of the Chapare coca growers union federation. The historic March For Territory and Dignity is credited with putting the demand for indigenous autonomy, and for a Constituent Assembly to make it possible, on the national agenda.

Twenty years later, Morales has officially inaugurated a 190-mile highway that threatens to bifurcate the TIPNIS territory. The road will be built by a Brazilian construction conglomerate, with 80% of its $415 million price tag financed by a loan from the Brazilian government.

The two sections of the road leading to and from the TIPNIS are already under construction. The controversial central section running through the protected zone, which has not yet undergone the required environmental review and community consultation process, is the subject of the current controversy.

Perspectives

In the government’s view, the road is critical to Bolivia’s economic development. It will provide a direct commercial link between the central department of Cochabamba, gateway to the Andean highlands, and the Amazonian Beni region, an important source of agricultural and meat products. Short-circuiting the traditional route through Santa Cruz, the road will cut transportation time between the two departments in half--while conveniently challenging the economic dominance of Santa Cruz, a region that has posed the greatest political threat to the MAS (Movement Towards Socialism) government.

The road will also connect indigenous residents of the TIPNIS with the modern world, providing opportunities for expanded or new community enterprises such as sustainable forestry and ecotourism. But for community leaders of the TIPNIS and their supporters, the road threatens to destroy one of the most biodiverse regions of the world, with unique flora and fauna including 11 endangered animals and 3,000 species of plants. According to Adrián Nogales, the director of the national park service who opposes the government’s plan, the road will cause “the greatest ecological destruction in Bolivia’s history,” along with major social and cultural damage.

As community leaders explain, the problem is not the road itself but the access it will facilitate by interests hostile to conservation. These include illegal loggers, cocaleros using slash-and-burn agriculture to maximize production for the illegal market, and narcotraffickers. The community has clashed repeatedly with such groups in the past, and last May burned down 40 shacks associated with a land invasion that had destroyed the surrounding forest.

A recent study predicts that within 18 years of the road’s construction, 64% of the TIPNIS will be deforested. YFPB, the state hydrocarbons company, has just announced its interest in exploring important petroleum reserves inside the park, posing an additional environmental threat which the road will greatly facilitate.

For native peoples of the TIPNIS, who rely on hunting, fishing, and food-gathering, environmental destruction is a threat to their livelihood and their very existence. Indigenous leaders say that eight communities inside the park have disappeared in recent years as a result of these pressures, which they characterize as “ethnocide in the twenty-first century.” For this reason, the community voted in May 2010 to “strongly and irrevocably reject the construction of the (proposed) highway, and any segment that would affect our territory.”

Still another point of view is represented by the Quechua and Aymará “colonists,” originally dislocated miners from the Bolivian highlands, who have lived in the park since the 1970s. Unlike the native peoples of the TIPNIS, who are primarily nomadic and operate outside the market system, the settlers are farmers who need access to markets for their products (including rice, citrus fruits, and coca leaves produced for the legal market). While the natives have extended families and clans, the settlers are organized through their sindicatos, mostly affiliated with the coca growers’ federations of the Chapare, whose president is Evo Morales. The settler colonies need and strongly support the road.

The two groups have managed an uneasy coexistence since 1990, when Morales (as head of the coca growers’ federations) and the TIPNIS leaders agreed on a “red line” to contain future colonist settlements. The relationship has since been characterized by cooperative efforts—such as joint opposition to Repsol’s mining explorations in 1998—as well as conflicts, primarily over the recent expansion of settlement areas, which has led to occasional violence.

Today, some 15,000 settlers in the TIPNIS outnumber the native indigenous almost 3 to 1. The shortage of arable land for small farmers outside the park, compared to the vast tracts occupied by the native indigenous, has generated resentment and increasing pressures from organized colonist groups. The proposed highway is exacerbating these conflicts.

The Government's Response

To date, the government has responded to this complex situation by alternately seeking to discredit and defy the road’s critics. In addition to accusing environmental NGOs and community leaders of manipulating their constituents, Morales has stated that anyone who is against the road is an “enemy of Bolivia.”

“I want to say to the so-called defenders of the environment,” he warned last June, “that whether they like it or not, we’re going to build this highway and we’re going to deliver it under my administration.”

Under international treaties and its own Constitution, the Bolivian government is obligated to consult with affected communities and seek their “free, prior, and informed consent” before building the road. The government has been slow to implement this process, and has stated repeatedly that the consultation will not be binding.

But after the Brazilian ambassador announced a funding freeze for the controversial portion of the route and urged Bolivia to resolve its conflicts with indigenous groups, the government decided to initiate the consultation process in Trinidad, with five days’ notice. TIPNIS community leaders, busy with preparations for the August 15 march, elected to boycott the consultation, which was held on August 9.

The government’s position that the consultation is not binding, they note, violates the spirit, if not the letter, of the legal framework. They object to being consulted three years after the construction contract has been awarded, with work on adjoining sections of the road already underway. “We’ll dialogue when we reach La Paz,” says Fernando Vargas, president of the TIPNIS governing body.

Indigenous groups and their technical advisers, as well the civic committees of Beni and Cochabamba, have proposed alternative routes for the road outside or alongside the park. The government has generally characterized these options as infeasible or too expensive. But this stance may be softening, since Brazil has raised the possibility of reconsidering the route.

Indigenous leaders are seeking a meeting with Brazilian government officials in the hopes of putting additional pressure on Morales. Given Brazil’s economic interest in the road as part of its plan for a bioceanic corridor, and its direct financial stake in the road's contruction, it’s a reasonable bet that Brazil may prefer a revised route to the prospect of an endlessly stalled and conflicted project.

In the meantime, the much-anticipated march by the TIPNIS community and the lowlands indigenous organization CIDOB, representing 34 indigenous groups, will test the strength of the growing protest movement. The highlands indigenous organization CONAMAQ, the Chiquitano Indigenous Organization, the Assembly of the Guarani People, and many other indigenous, environmental, and human rights organizations have pledged to participate.

The struggle over the TIPNIS highway raises issues that are critical to Bolivia’s future-- the balance between development and ecological sustainability, the nature of limitations on indigenous territorial rights, the meaning of the government’s obligation to seek free, prior, and informed community consent, and the continuing problem of inequitable land distribution for campesinos, to name just a few. For the Morales administration, this could be another defining moment.

Republished from NACLA

Bolivia's fight for sovereignty over military

Federico Fuentes, August 7, 2011

Speaking to CNN en Espanol on July 27, Bolivian President Evo Morales said “When presidents do not submit to the United States government, to its policies, there are coups.”

His comments are backed by attempts by the US and Bolivia’s right wing to bring down his government.

Recently released WikiLeaks cables prove the US embassy was in close contact with dissident military officers only months before a coup attempt was carried out in September 2008.

But the close relationship between the US and Bolivia’s military has a long history.

War on drugs

In recent years, the “war on drugs” provided the US with cover to extend its control over Bolivia’s armed forces.

As a coca grower union leader from the Chapare region, Morales faced the direct and brutal consequences of the US “war on drugs”.

During the 1980s and 1990s, the Chapare region, nestled in the heart of Bolivia, became the site of bloody massacres carried out by US and Bolivian anti-narcotic forces.

As part of its attempts to destroy coca, seen by indigenous Bolivians as a “sacred leaf” and part of their traditional way of life, the US established and funded the Mobile Units for Rural Patrolling (UMOPAR) in the Chapare.

Under the command of US soldiers and working closely with US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) agents, UMOPAR was responsible for massacres of localpeasants.

This included the gunning down of 12 cocaleros (coca farmers) during a peaceful protest in June 1988.

One year later, Morales was brutally beaten by UMOPAR troops, who tried to drag his body into the mountains, believing he was dead.

Protests by fellow cocaleros ensured soldiers left his unconscious body behind.

Morales told Telesur on July 27 that the DEA never operated in Bolivia to “fight against drug trafficking, [but] for political ends”.

In late 2008, his government expelled the DEA from the country.

The cocaleros, whoses organisations were forged in the struggle against US militarisation, became the backbone of the anti-imperialist Movement Towards Socialism (MAS).

Morales narrowly lost the 2002 presidential elections, during which the US ambassador threatened retaliation if he won. Morales went on to win the December 2005 poll.

Morales concluded his election night speech with: “Long live coca, death to the Yankees!”

Divided military

One of the biggest challenges the Morales government has faced is its attempt to reassert sovereignty over Bolivia’s military while ensuring it did not turn against the president as so often had happened to leftist governments in Latin America.

The government was aided by two important factors.

Rising anti-neoliberal and anti-imperialist sentiment at the start of the century found its reflection among nationalist sectors within the military.

In the February 2006 Le Monde Diplomatique, Maurice Lemoine said that during a May-June 2005 uprising, nationalist officers asked the MAS to support a civic-military coup that would nationalise gas and organise a constituent assembly two key demands of the rising.

The MAS rejected the proposed coup.

Instead, popular mobilisation forced then-president Carlos Mesa to step down.

After Mesa’s resignation, there were two options: either a constitutional handing over of power to the hated right-wing president of the Senate or the calling of early elections.

Lemoine said that when a group of generals met to decide which option to support, “a colonel entered the room, clicked his heels and announced: ‘I think you should know that many officers regard the MAS as the only fit representative of our nation’s dignity.’”

Differences within the military over how to relate to a possible Morales government, and direct US intervention, led to a second important event.

During his election campaign, Morales revealed the depth of control that the US exercised over the Bolivian military.

Young soldiers supplied him with evidence that the US had successfully decommissioned Bolivia’s entire anti-aircraft arsenal without government knowledge or consent.

The evidence came from soldiers who made up part of the Joint Counterterrorism Force (FCTC), set up and funded by the US.

They revealed how US military and embassy officials had ordered the replacement of various heads of battalions, withheld the true nature of the operation to soldiers involved and provided US embassy vehicles to transport the anti-aircraft missiles.

Commenting on the incident in November 2005, shortly before being named Morales' first energy minister, Andres Soliz Rada wrote: “This operation of control over the Bolivian military also included the cleansing and marginalisation of soldiers who demonstrated sympathy to the [call for] nationalisation of hydrocarbons and the anti-imperialist struggle.”

Soliz Rada said in the months leading up to the incident, at least a dozen high ranking military officers had either retired, been relieved of duties or relocated.

A January 18, 2006 online BBC article said that Army Commander Marcel Antezana Ruiz admitted Washington had requested the repatriation of the missiles to destroy them because the US feared Morales would win the elections.

Transforming the military

Once in power, Morales moved quickly to try to turn this situation around. Within a few months, almost 60 generals and admirals, many of them either directly involved in the missile crisis or aligned with US interests, were forced into retirement.

In their place, newer commanders were promoted, bypassing the traditional promotions system.

The notorious FCTC was restructured and a new commander appointed.

This caused a stir within the military and in Washington.

Addressing a peasant congress in March 2006, Morales said “some generals were upset” and had put up “resistance” to the government’s attempts to name new military authorities.

He also said the US Military Group in Bolivia sent a letter to his government requesting it replace a military commander.

The letter was later released. It said that in response to government moves to restructure the FCTC, the US military had “decertified” the unit and demanded the return of all military hardware it had provided to it.

Morales said the Bolivian military had an obligation to not hand over any arms to the US. He told the peasant gathering: “We will never change a minister or a commander due to US demands.”

“Neoliberalism used the Armed Forces at the service of the transnationals, at the service of external interests,” Morales said.

“Now, in this process of change, our Armed Forces is willing to guarantee the Constituent Assembly and above all, to support and help us with the nationalisation of hydrocarbons.”

On May 1, 2006, as part of a secret plan involving Morales, the military high command, FCTC and select government ministers, the army occupied Bolivia’s gas fields and the offices of transnationals involved in their exploitation.

Morales announced the return of state control over gas.

On February 9, 2007, these scenes were repeated as the military took over the newly nationalised Vinto tin smelter in Oruro.

The Morales government also put the military in charge of 25 technical centers to train future technicians for the mining industry. It also involved the institution in social programs such as tackling illiteracy, providing health care and building infrastructure.

In 2006, the military academy was also opened to indigenous and female cadets for the first time in its history.

Having already announced that Bolivia would stop sending troops to the US Schools of the Americas training camp, in June 2011 Morales inaugurated a new military training school in Bolivia for soldiers from countries such as Cuba and Venezuela that make up the Bolivarian Alliance of Our Americas (ALBA).

Through such actions, the government has tried to “knitting together a military-campesino alliance”, as Argentine journalist Pablo Stefanoni put it.

It is an attempt to forge closer relations between the military and the people, while strengthening the nationalist sectors within the military.

This growing bond was critical to overcoming internal resistance within the military and defeating a coup attempt in September 2008.

The combined mobilisation of the people and the military crushed the fascist uprising and dealt the opposition a blow from which they are yet to recover.

A socialist army?

This process of internal restructuring and transformation was reflected in the Bolivian military’s adoption in March 2010 of the slogan: "Fatherland or death, we shall overcome!"

Later that year, the commanding general of the army declared the military to be “socialist”, “anti-capitalist” and “anti-imperialist”. More recently, he stated the need for closer military ties with Cuba.

For a military whose only victorious war was that waged against Che Guevara and his band of left-wing guerrillas, such statements, while symbolic, represent a stark change from the days of right-wing dictatorships.

However, there is also little doubt that there is still much to do to deepen this process within the military.

Among other things, the military is still part of United Nations forces occupying Haiti, despite official government concerns of US interests behind the mission.

A big factor why this continues is the important financial contribution the military receives from the UN for its services something it does not want to lose.

The military also used its weight to ensure that the section dedicated to the armed forces in the new constitution, adopted in 2009, remained the same.

The military has also been slow to open up its archives to help investigations into the cases of disappeared activists during past dictatorships.

Activists involved in these cases have criticised the government for siding with the military on this issue.

Many social movements who support and defend the government have taken an approach to the government of pushing their sectoral interests. The military seems to have followed this route.

Given its weight and influence, in many cases it has been in a privileged position to ensure its demands are met.

There is little doubt that changes have occurred. These have been vital to ensuring the survival of the process of change led by the Morales government.

At the same time, there is evidence that there is a long path ahead in the process of transforming the army into one that truly represents the people.

Bolivia: WikiLeaks expose US conspiracy

Federico Fuentes

Indigenous protests condemn Pando Prefect Leopoldo Fernandez over the massacre of peasants in Pando during the September 2008 attempted coup

Recently released United States embassy cables from Bolivia have provided additional insight to the events leading up to the September 2008 coup attempt against the Andean country’s first indigenous president.

On September 9, 2008, President Evo Morales expelled then-US ambassador Philip Goldberg as evidence emerged that Goldberg and embassy officials had been meeting with several key civilian and military figures involved in an unfolding coup plot.

These meetings took place in the midst of “civic strikes” and roadblocks called by the right-wing opposition prefects (governors) of the eastern states. These actions were denounced by the government as an attempted coup.

The prefects announced their intentions to begin implementing “regional autonomy” statutes, which they claimed had been approved by illegal referendums held in the four eastern states between May and July.

These statutes were aimed at securing regional control over natural resources and state security bodies.

Taking over government buildings and cutting off food supplies, the right-wing insurgents carried out a reign of terror on the streets, mobilising paramilitary forces.

Soldiers and police officers were targets of their violence. The hope was to trigger an armed confrontation, banking on important sections of the military refusing to obey government orders.

The secret US cables released by WikiLeaks show how such a scenario was already envisaged months before by the US embassy.

A December 12, 2007 cable assessed the situation within the military. It said that, faced with conflict, the government could “at best” rely on only “sporadic and half-hearted compliance from a minority of commanders”.

Based on intelligence gathered from military officers, the cable concluded: “Although they can be expected to protect government infrastructure and transportation, most commanders are likely to sit out any violent confrontation with opposition forces.”

Field commanders were “prepared to stand down and confine their troops to barracks”, even if a written order was signed by Morales.

Evidence for this was provided by a source that “was on hand when a high-ranking civil defense officer told the commander in Tarija Department to demand a written order from President Morales if asked to take action against opposition leaders or demonstrators”.

“If they received such an order, the officer advised non-compliance and a post lock down to commanders from Cochabamba, Santa Cruz, and Tarija.”

The cable quoted another military official stationed in Santa Cruz as saying that commanders originally from the west were “unlikely” to unseat the same opposition leaders they were working with.

“As for the large minority of officers from the Media Luna [Bolivia's eastern states],” the official in question noted “there is ‘no way any of us are going to attack our own people.’ Rather, he said, they would side with the opposition if forced to take sides”.

Opposition figures also told the embassy they did not “believe the ‘divided’ military would repress them”.

Cables from the weeks immediately leading up to the coup attempt have yet to be released, but evidence of ongoing communication between the embassy and military commanders, right up until Goldberg’s expulsion, was provided in a report by former parliamentarian Walter Vasquez Michel published in La Epoca on September 28, 2008.

With coup plans well underway, the article reported that US embassy officials met with four retired generals and a security representative from the Santa Cruz prefecture on September 2.

Three days later, the US embassy’s head of military affairs spoke with high ranking active military officials based in Santa Cruz to “plan the handing over of military units to paramilitary groups”.

The aim was to “create the sensation that the government had lost control of the Armed Forces”, a scenario outlined in US embassy cables issued only months prior.

Instead, the plot backfired as government supporters and loyal troops moved into action.

With violence growing in the east, government supporters began marching on Santa Cruz. Residents in poor neighbourhoods of Santa Cruz set up self-defence groups to repel fascist attacks.

After the massacre of dozens of unarmed peasants in the eastern state of Pando on September 11, a wave of revulsion swept through the country. This included middle-class sectors in the east who had, until then, supported the autonomy protests.

This revulsion spread to the armed forces. Soldiers demanded the government send them in to crush the fascist uprising, even if it meant breaking the chain of command.

This allowed the government to overcome internal resistance within the military and to deploy soldiers onto the streets of Pando.

Within 24-hours, the paramilitary forces had been pushed back and calm was restored.

Fearing a similar scenario elsewhere, and with Santa Cruz now encircled by government supporters, the coup plotters were forced to back down.

There may be further evidence to come of US complicity in this violent attempt to bring down the elected Morales government brought to power on the back of an indigenous-led mass movement agaisnt neoliberalism.

The cables released so far reveal the US embassy was in communcation with forces in the military working agaisnt the government.