What did we just see happen overnight in Bolivia?
The answer is complicated, so let me give some background. Evo Morales, the Bolivian President who resigned last night, was first elected in 2006. At the time, his elevation to the highest office was hailed as a major victory because he was the first indigenous person to have ever won that country’s Presidency—a shocking fact in a country with the largest percentage of indigenous people in Latin America. Just as impressive was the fact that he won on the first round, something that had not happened in any election since the restoration of democracy in 1982. The hope from his supporters was that he would finally improve the lot of indigenous people (and all other poor Bolivians) in a country that ranked last in South America in just about every economic indicator. On the economic score, he did well. As late as 2014, the New York Times was praising his record, reporting on how the international financial sector saw him as a leader with “prudent fiscal management.” The economy had been buoyed by the commodity boom that had propelled other Latin American nations, however, and in more recent years, its GDP growth had begun to slow down. This July, the AP warned that clouds loomed in the economic horizon.
Despite his solid economic record, as Evo’s stay in power lengthened, he begun to lose support from his erstwhile supporters. In 2010, he had to back down from proposed gas increases after enraged Bolivians paralyzed the capital city. In 2016 furious miners protesting his government abducted and killed a deputy interior minister; thousands mobilized in La Paz and other cities around the country to protest the firing of textile workers. That same year there were large demonstrations of disabled activists who demanded an increase in government benefits. In 2017, he faced anger over development of indigenous lands, particularly a road that would link the Andean highlands with the Amazon lowlands to the north, as well as opposition from indigenous groups over the proposed creation of several dams in the country. And in 2018, police killed a student that was part of a demonstration that called for more funding for universities around the country.
The real trouble, however, began when Morales begun to concentrate power around himself, and violate if maybe not the letter of the Constitution, certainly its spirit. The 2009 Constitution which was spearheaded by Morales and his political party MAS (Movement Toward Socialism), permitted only one re-election for a continuous term. Although by 2009 the Bolivian President had already had one term, the argument was that he had not served any under the new Constitution and therefore the 2006-2009 term should not count. So in 2014 he ran again and won with 61% of the vote. In 2015, MAS proposed a referendum to ask the Bolivian people whether term limits should be scrapped. They answered no in a narrow decision—51.3% to 48.7%–on February 21, 2016. MAS did not drop the matter, however, and they appealed to Bolivia’s Supreme Court arguing that to limit the President’s re-election was a violation of his political rights. The court agreed citing the American Convention on Human Rights. This prompted general strikes across the country, but despite growing anger, even among his indigenous supporters, Evo did not back down.
Thus, the scene was set for the October 20, 2019 general election, which a significant part of the population already thought was illegitimate and unconstitutional. Things got much worse, however, when on election day as the results showed that the President would not have enough votes to avoid a runoff, the numbers being reported, simply stopped—a pause of nearly 24 hours. The next day, the official numbers showed Evo had enough votes to be elected outright. The opposition immediately claimed that this was electoral fraud, as did the Organization of American States which claimed there had been significant irregularities and that a new election should be held; Evo’s supporters said there was nothing nefarious, the fact was simply that rural voters were counted last. Not surprisingly, in such a polarized climate, many did not find that explanation satisfactory; protests erupted and soon turned bloody.
The hasty deterioration of public order as both sides begun to engage in violent attacks throughout the country prompted multiple resignations of MAS mayors, ministers, senators, governors—many of them after having seen their houses burnt. Faced with the task of putting down the protests, the police instead joined in; the military then declared they would not “confront the people,” either. The next day, on the morning of November 10, the head of the army “suggested” Evo resign. Specifically he said: “we ask the President of the State to renounce his presidential mandate, allowing for peace to be restored and the maintenance of stability for the good of Bolivia.” Morales resigned a few hours later.
There is no question then, that the military forced the President to resign by force—the usual definition of a coup. The problem, of course, is that academic concepts are shattered by the messiness of reality and one’s ability to distinguish revolutions from coups is limited in situations like this one. Did the military simply try to support “the people” in the face of a would-be tyrant that wanted to keep himself in power even after Bolivia had rejected him in a referendum, or did the armed forces take advantage of the situation to remove unconstitutionally a leftist hero that despite his flaws had done much to improve the country? The answer, I’m afraid, depends much on one’s own political predispositions. Indeed, it is possible that even both of those descriptions are true.
Personally, I would term this a coup, but in the end, it does not really matter what you want to call it. The fact is that the constitutional order was broken and there is a power vacuum in the country. That is extremely dangerous in a place as socially divided as Bolivia, as radicals can certainly fill the void and exacerbate its problems. Luis Fernando Camacho, a politician from Santa Cruz who has been catapulted to prominence as one of the leaders in the protests strikes me as just such a man—someone that if his rhetoric is any guide, will make everything worse. A feminist activist from Cochabamba captured the mood thus: “Evo’s last two terms in office were marked by corruption, arrogance and a disregard for the people who put him into power. But I’m not celebrating his resignation because I’m afraid that this is a takeover by religious extremists who are anti-women and racist.”
Meanwhile, if the debate over whether this was a coup can only get us so far, what is even less helpful is to call this a US-backed coup. Sure Trump and Pompeo are glad that Morales resigned, but this makes it sound like the CIA is behind it all. To superimpose one’s views on the US and Trump on this is not just lazy, it centers the drama around Trump—a man who could not have placed Bolivia on a map a few days ago (and I am sure still can’t), denies Bolivians agency, and overlooks the complexities of an extremely complicated situation. It also makes it seem like to solve Bolivia’s problems we only need to get the right people elected in the US—if the trouble is American imperialism, surely someone like Bernie Sanders is bound to fix it.
If only it were that easy.
In reality, Bolivia stands where it has stood so many times before, looking for a way out. Let us hope that it finds its path swiftly and without additional bloodshed.
