Bolivia’s Election Day: What We Saw; What We Heard

This morning bright and early The Democracy Center dispatched a team of young Bolivians and their counterparts from the US to wander the car-less Cochabamba talking to people about the election at polling places and on the streets – to give our readers a little better feel for the day.

Here is some of what we saw and what we heard.

A Quiet Carnival

Election day in downtown Cochabamba. One of the few days pedestrians can cross the street without gambling with their lives. Groups of kids peruse the city by bike. Teenagers play soccer in the street. Young parents push strollers. The elderly congregate on the sidewalks to converse. Venders sell their goods along the street and in the markets as dogs parade themselves around in old t-shirts. A quietness envelops the city. A quiet carnival.

First stop: the polling station at Colegio Sucre, located in the center of Cochabamba. People mill about quietly, speaking in hushed tones. Most seem uncomfortable with the thought of sharing their politics to a pair of strangers holding microphones. But the few that do (most of whom are older men) all support PODEMOS and have voted in support of the Autonomy Referendum.

Next stop: Colegio Amor de Dios, deep in La Cancha, Zona Sur. Here, the courtyard-cum-voting station is packed, and the crowd is more diverse. Although many still seem in favor of PODEMOS and the Autonomy Referendum, there are the occasional wildcards. A woman in her forties gently suggests that the Constituent Assembly itself is a step in the right direction and she doesn’t believe the country should be broken apart by the Autonomy Referendum. A young man, who preferred to remain anonymous, agreed with her, commenting that, “to vote for Autonomy is to support the oligarchies of Santa Cruz.”

On the other hand, the leader of the venders of the informal market, a woman in her late 60s, said that she supported the Autonomy Referendum because she supports local government. “For too long, Cochabamba has been the bastard child of Bolivia. Cochabambinos will benefit directly from autonomy.”

Last stop: Colegio Andres Bello, still further south. This polling station is almost empty by 2 in the afternoon. A man in his 60’s says that he doesn’t know who the candidates are that are running for the Constituent Assembly, but, like most people, he is voting along party lines. He said, “I voted for MAS, against the Referendum.” His sentiments were echoed by various other people who admit to not knowing anything about the individuals who are running, nor the platforms.

Back on the street we ask a young campesina whether or not she is going to vote. The woman giggles and responds that she is not, that she does not know if she is registered to vote, and that she does not have a national I.D. card. Most campesinos do not have I.D. cards, making it harder for them to navigate the electoral system. My partner Claudia tells me, “They aren’t worried about voting today. They are working today like every other day. If they don’t work, they don’t eat. It’s another way of understanding the world. Where is their place in the new Bolivia?”

Caitlin Esch and Claudia Lopez

The Politics of Si and No

The young woman managing the ballots at one table patiently opened each of the two folded ballots to show her election observer colleagues and the middle-aged woman who had come to vote “for a better Bolivia.” This ritual was repeated with each voter to make sure everyone knew there had been no tampering with the ballots.

One of those papers was a colorful mosaic of the Constituent Assembly’s candidate’s; the other was the “Autonomia” referendum question. “SI” for those who want more power devolved to the departmental (regional) governments and “NO” for those who want to maintain centralized power based out of La Paz. In the final lead-up to election day, it became clear that the SI/NO battle was a political one. The center-right PODEMOS party’s mantra was “Si” to the referendum. The MAS party pushed for “No.”

While voters for both the “Si” and the “No” claimed to hope for a better Bolivia, it became obvious after a few short interviews that general confusion about what the election means, and its relation to the Autonomy question, was widespread.

One young woman, carrying a frustrated 6 month-year old daughter in her arms, articulated the trend. “These elections are going to help define the future of Bolivia, but in reality the people are confused. They don’t know what they are voting for.”

An older man, watching the scene of voters in front of him, admitted that he was poorly informed about the elections. When asked about the Assembly vote, he said he was not prepared to talk details about it since he did not really know what it was all about. He did have a defined position on autonomy, however. “I am not in agreement with autonomy. For me, a central government is important. If more power were given to the departments, there would be too much variation. We need to be united to move forward.”

One thing is for sure: the rhetoric is heavy. Most people used one or more phrases taken directly from their candidate’s discourses and especially from President Evo Morales’ speeches. One 16-year-old young woman, who was serving as the MAS representative at one of the polls at the Colegio Andres Bello, repeated that she hoped for great change with these elections. She went on to quote Evo saying “with the Constituent Assembly, we are going to re-establish our country.” When pushed for more details, she had a hard time offering concrete examples.

Melissa Draper and Maria Eugenia Flores

Voting for a Better Future

La Cancha, Latin America's largest open-air market and usually teeming with people selling, shopping, shouting, was nearly empty today. Stands were shuttered, shops were closed, kids played soccer and rode bicycles in the empty streets. At polling stations across Cochabamba, voters lined up peacefully to elect representatives for the country's constituent assembly and decide on the autonomy of this province.

While most voters interviewed were in favor of autonomy, their reasons and political leanings were diverse.

A middle-aged woman voting in a school in central Cochabamba expressed hope that autonomy would produce democratic reforms and help put local communities in charge of their own destinies. A man who moved to Cochabamba from Argentina also supported autonomy, and said of the people of Santa Cruz [the hotbed of support for the autonomy proposal], "They have the right to govern themselves" and decide what to do with the natural gas in their province.

On the other hand, an older woman voting in the Zona Sur says she and most people she knows approve of the MAS government. She wasn't sure what will happen after the vote, but rejects autonomy, asserting that, with the nation at a turning point of sorts, it is important for its people to remain united.

A woman who had just voted beneath basketball hoops in the courtyard of a school not far from La Cancha said she hoped only that the constituent assembly would "Make a better future for our children." But she admitted that for herself, as for most voters in Cochabamba today, it remains unclear what that future might look like.

Alex Provan

Lions, Machine Guns and Bob Dylan

Okay, I admit, is it sort of a surreal experience to bike at top speed through Cochabamba, listening to Bob Dylan through small headphones, and not have to worry about getting creamed at any moment by a car. Not, of course, that this is the most significant event of Bolivia’s election day, but I thought it was worth noting.

I asked one of my neighbors – Jano Arispe, a young man of 30 who operates an Internet Center next to his mother's combination grocery and construction supply store – what he thought of the autonomy vote as he headed down the hill to the polls. “On the one hand I am in agreement with it because it gives each of the departments a chance to control their own development. On the other hand it gives a big advantage to rich departments like Santa Cruz that have most of the natural resources.” He was less ambivalent about the fact that election day gave him a chance to hang out with his friends.

I think the oddest image that sticks in my mind from the day involves a small lion and a machine gun. One of my destinations on my bike with Mr. Dylan was to meet up with a visiting foreign journalist. Given our sparse lunch options we ended up eating at a small outside table at a popular ice cream restaurant that features mechanical toys for children. The one next to us was a lion kids could ride, which oddly was equipped with sound effects not of a roar but of sirens and machine gun fire. We both wondered who thinks of such things.

Jim Shultz