Real
Democracy is coming soon to a country near you
By Bill Conroy
I recently traveled to the land where Che Guevara's ghost still breathes
with the people. I was a guest of the Narco News School of Authentic
Journalism, a gathering of more than 60 journalists from around the globe.
The journalists -- representing radio, film, Internet and print media --
had come to the school in Bolivia in early August to explore strategies
for advancing credible media coverage of the war on drugs and democracy
movements in the Americas.
I came as a green gringo, who spoke only English, to this school where
Spanish, Portuguese and my native tongue all were in play, constantly,
with interpreters building the communication bridges for all present. The
school was host to a slew of prominent Bolivians, including community
activists, professors, political leaders, farmers, workers, writers and
musicians.
We convened in the Bolivian Andes, in Cochabamba, the country's third
largest city, behind La Paz and Santa Cruz. However, at one point, the
entire entourage of journalists was transported by bus eastward over the
peaks of the Andes to the Chapare region, where the Amazon jungle begins
to snake its way into the mountains.
During the bus ride, several of us discussed the brutal murder of the
mayor of a municipality called Ayo Ayo, which is located in northwestern
Bolivia near La Paz. The mayor, Benjamín Altamirano, was killed in Ayo
Ayo this past June by a mob; his body was burned, dragged through the
streets and hung on display.
We showed a local newspaper around the bus that detailed the carnage.
Someone said the mayor was a real crook who preyed on the people, and that
such things have happened to such people before in Bolivia, that the
mayor's fate at the hands of a mob was in keeping with an ancient form of
Aymara Indian justice in this neck of the Andes.
About a week later, after we had returned from the Chapare, the state
authorities accused Gabriel Pinto, a leader of the Bolivian land-reform
movement MST, of orchestrating the murder. The facts supporting the
charges, in my view, are paper-thin. The populist leader was not even in
Ayo Ayo at the time the mob killed the mayor, according to his defense
attorneys. The charges were brought only days before Venezuelan President
Hugo Chavez was to face a divisive Aug. 15 recall referendum, a vote
pitting shanty-dwelling Chavez backers against well-heeled Chavez haters.
It seemed to me that the state authorities were trying to keep the lid on
something; locking up Pinto might keep part of the Bolivian people's
movement without a center, maybe. Admittedly, I was still a rookie gringo
trying to grasp the nuances of this complex culture -- where politics have
been layered and textured over the course of centuries, like intricate
masonry. Still, I sensed the pending recall vote in Venezuelan was having
an energizing effect on popular movements throughout Latin America, so I
suspected the status-quo power elite in Bolivia were trying to make sure,
at least in part, that matters of conscience didn't spread their way.
But if that's the case, they are ultimately fighting a losing battle. The
people's movement in this part of Latin America, from everything I
experienced, is in the zone -- and time will tell how big that zone
becomes with Chavez' recent, convincing victory over the neo-liberal
forces seeking to expel him from office. This is a movement rooted in real
bottom-up participatory democracy and struggle -- in which the people
understand that the price of victory is not only measured in rhetoric,
but, unfortunately, at times, in blood.
That reality became crystal clear during the course of the recent Chavez
recall referendum, when, as reported by multiple media outlets, a group of
individuals on motorbikes opened fire on a crowd standing in line to vote
in a poor district near Caracas. (Remember, Chavez' base of support is
among the poor.) In the wake of the spray of bullets, some 10 people were
wounded and at least one left dead. Likewise, in Bolivia in 2003, about
100 people lost their lives and hundreds more were wounded while
participating in widespread protests over what was viewed by the masses as
the raping of the nation's natural gas reserves.
The stakes
After some 10 days in Cochabamba, participating in the Narco News School
of Authentic Journalism, I had finally started to get used to the thin
mountain air in the Andes. More importantly, I had spent days breathing in
another culture, one that is experiencing democracy in a more vital way
than I have seen play out in the canned elections we experience in the
United States.
In Bolivia, it seems to me, the stakes of the game are very real, very
much in front of the people. In my short time in this country in the heart
of South America, I heard about the struggle to change the country from
the bottom up. Although divided at times over strategy, labor and farmers
are unified in their quest to return control of the nation's natural
resources to the people in an effort to foster job creation, enhance
living conditions and ensure a brighter future for Bolivia.
Their opposition is lined up along the usual private property line. Those
who feed off the private-sector exploitation of the country's resources
want to maintain the status quo.
But unlike in the United States, where labor and farmers have been
marginalized, in Bolivia they represent powerful and growing sources of
political power. Their movements -- speared on through social warriors
like labor leader Oscar Olivera and national congressman Evo Morales --
are using the tools of democracy and community action to reset the table
of the status quo.
Their demands are not unreasonable. Is it too much to ask that the
resources of their nation be used to benefit all the people of the
country? Is it unreasonable to expect that what is produced with the hands
of the worker and farmer should not be taken from them without just
compensation?
In the United States, we offer the people a small portion of social
justice in the form of Social Security and Medicare. We facilitate
transportation through the building of public roads; we ensure a future
for our children through a public education system. The price for these
social goods is not cheap, and we are all expected to give.
Why then are Bolivians questioned about their desire to provide for that
same public good through the use of resources that were not produced by
any corporation? What company put the natural gas in the ground, who would
have that formula, that machinery? Surely we can all agree that no one
owns what no one creates -- or is that the crux of the world's problems?
Indigenous solutions
It seems everyone outside of Bolivia has a solution for the country's
woes. Eradicate coca and plant pineapples, continue the private
exploitation of the nation's natural resources, militarize the nation's
roadways and jungles. Why should we think these formulas would work here
when the people, through their own democratic institutions, are saying
otherwise? The millions of dollars flowing into Bolivia from the United
States to prop up unpopular programs for the benefit of the status quo
should not be sold to us as being in the interest of the Bolivian people.
If we really believe in democracy, in a land where the power flows from
the people, not the economic interests of a few, then we have to allow
that process to work. Call it nationalization, call it socialism, call it
a revolution, but don't call it an enemy of the people.
In the case of Bolivia, the people -- through a growing social movement
rooted in the labor of the people -- are asking for nothing more from what
I can see. They want to control the destiny of their own country and
believe the seeds of that destiny -- the natural resources that their
native land has been blessed with -- must be in the hands of the people.
With that control, countries like Bolivia and Venezuela and all the rising
nations of the Americas can begin to provide for the common welfare, to
rebuild their economies and begin the process of dismantling the
internationally funded military machine that threatens the very essence of
real democracy.
This is what I saw in Bolivia, in this nation in the mountains, in this
place somewhere in America, in an ancient land whose people have the same
dreams and hopes for their future as do any people in this world. All they
want, I believe, is that Bolivia be allowed to be a Bolivia for all of its
people.
Bill Conroy is a journalist and author of the book "Borderline
Security: A Chronicle of Reprisal, Cronyism and Corruption in the U.S.
Customs Service," which was recently published online by Narco News (www.narconews.com).
He can be contacted at wkc6428@aol.com
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