Dividing the Spoils of Bolivia's New Gas Cash

The latest political squabble in Bolivia this week isn’t over whether to move the national capital, or if soccer should be played at high altitude, or over Evo Morales' desires for a second term. This week in Cochabamba and elsewhere the battle is a more traditional one – over money. Specifically, rival politicians are sparring over new proposals from the Morales administration over how to divide the new wave of cash coming in from Bolivia's increased taxes from foreign oil corporations.

The fact that there is new cash is news in itself. For years Bolivia's leaders heeded the warnings of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and others, that any increase in foreign oil taxes would just result in the foreign firms shutting down operations and packing their bags. Bolivia's political left must have missed that day in economics class, however, and pressed for higher taxes anyway (both before Morales took office and after). The result is that the companies agreed to new long-term contracts and Bolivia is now taking in almost $1 billion a year more in national revenue.

The subject of the current debate is the Impuesto Directo a los Hidrocarburos (IDH), one of the key mechanisms through which that money is distributed here. The current conflict was set off when President Morales announced a plan last week to divert a significant portion of those funds for a new pension plan for Bolivia's seniors – a segment of the population where poverty hits particularly hard. He also included in that plan a major dig at his leading opponents, the independently elected state governors. The Morales proposal would significantly cut the funds sent from La Paz to the governors for them to spend on public projects, transferring more of it downward on the revenue food chain to the cities. It seems, pretty likely, a move directed more by politics than anything else.

Marches and Toyota Land Cruisers

Understandably, the governors are screaming bloody murder. Yesterday in Cochabamba that opposition took to the streets, in a march to Plaza Colon convened by the local Civic Committee, in close alliance with the local governor, Manfred Reyes Villa. The march drew a crowd of several thousand, according to newspaper estimates, a number that Los Tiempos called reducida.

I ran into a friend of mine there, a young woman with no special interest in politics who works in an administrative job for a small private university. Looking bored as she sipped on an ice cream shake, I asked her why she was there. "My whole office is here. Obligatorio, they told us to come." How many others came under similar circumstances is hard to tell, but the crowd of state government employees headed back to work afterwards looked pretty thick.

Meanwhile, as civic leaders declared through amplification systems how urgent it was to keep those resources for projects sponsored by the state of Cochabamba, the local press carried inconvenient news for Mr. Reyes Villa about how some of the funds under his management have been spent. According to Los Tiempos, the Cochabamba governor used some of those IDH funds to purchase 26 brand-new "luxury vehicles" for the use of his senior staff. His chief aid, for example, was handed use of a new Toyota Prado Land Cruiser (similar to the model pictured above), which he operated for personal use. These are vehicles that cost up to $70,000, reported the Cochabamba daily.

When the story surfaced, the Governor's office quickly announced that 25 of the 26 luxury vehicles would be returned, with the exception of the one used by Reyes Villa himself. All of this, however, was not an especially strong argument for protecting the Governor's access to Bolivia's new oil revenues.

Maybe the Best Autonomy is Individual

From a classic public policy perspective, new revenue like this should be invested in strategic ways that maximize opportunities for progress and development. Usually, that means building up universities, schools, roads, and employment programs. Usually.

The problem, however, is what I like to call "the donut theory of economics." If a guy works in donut store and spends eight hours a day spreading chocolate icing or milky glaze atop donuts, sooner or later, through means honest or not, he is likely to have some donuts to eat. In corruption-plagued Bolivia the donuts are the cash that flows through public coffers, and at every level of government a lot of bites get taken along the way.

In theory, sending the cash down to the municipal level brings it closer to the people and their immediate needs. Well, in theory. Why the city government here in Cochabamba thinks that it needs to spend a wad of cash remodeling the Plaza 4 de Noviembre again for the second time in three years is beyond me. And do we really need a footbridge to the Cine Center?

With Toyota Land Cruisers being handed out like candy in one direction, and plaza remodelings eating up scarce cash in the other, maybe it does make sense to give more of the cash directly to the people. A few hundred Bolivianos stuffed into the hands of seniors at one end of the spectrum, and public school students at the other, at least means that fewer officials will get their hands on it.

Regional autonomy, we are told, is about getting Bolivia's revenue out of the hands of an administratively heavy central government. Fair enough. But, in Bolivia's case, maybe the best autonomy is personal. I am reasonably certain that my aging neighbor (who tries diligently to teach me Quechua each morning as I wait for the bus) can make better use of some new cash than having Manfred's deputies cruising the streets in $70,000 cars.

Morales' Extradition Quandary

We have written on a variety of occasions here about the Bolivian legal case against former President Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada. Mr. Sánchez de Lozada fled Bolivia four years ago this month in the wake of government repression that left more than sixty people dead.

In addition to a U.S. civil case recently brought by families of those killed, the ex-President also faces Bolivian criminal charges. In September the Bolivian Supreme Court issued a formal demand for Sánchez de Lozada's extradition from the U.S. He has lived comfortably in suburban Maryland since his ouster from Bolivia.

The Bush administration has refused, to date, all legal requests from Bolivia related to the case. The Bolivian Embassy in Washington is currently preparing an English translation of the Court's extradition demand, and Ambassador Gustavo Guzman plans to present it formally to the U.S. State Department and push for U.S. action.

All of which brings us to the case of Walter Chavez, a Peruvian journalist who has served as a communication advisor to President Morales. Previous to that Mr. Chavez worked for many years as a well-known writer here. Chavez, however, also has a new position in Bolivian politics. He is the subject of a formal extradition request from the government of Peru. The government there has filed "terrorism" charges against Chavez and is demanding that he be returned to stand trial.

I don't know the details of the Chavez case or the veracity of any of the charges against him. What I do know is that, side-by-side, the Chavez and "Goni" cases present a problem for the Morales government. How can it demand Mr. Sánchez de Lozada's extradition from the U.S. yet deny Peru's request for the same in the Chavez case? In formal diplomatic terms, this is called, "a real pickle."

If the Morales government refuses Peru's request – claiming that the charges are politically motivated, or that Chavez cannot get a fair trial in Peru – the U.S. State Department might just cut and paste the exact same language into its response to Bolivia's extradition request for Sánchez de Lozada. To be certain, extraditing Chavez to Peru is no guarantee that the U.S. would follow-suit. In fact, if I were picking an image to represent the chances of the U.S. sending Sánchez de Lozada home it would be a pig with wings.

But there is little question that the Chavez case complicates Bolivia's argument to send Sánchez de Lozada home.

An Updated Quick Note About Comments

Dear Readers:

As you know we have always provided in this Blog the space for uncensored and anonymous comments. In the last few weeks some form of Spam program has figured out how to get past the screening device that requires a real human being to enter some odd wavy letters in order to post a comment. I have ignored this up to now as a minor problem. However, I discovered this morning that the program has generated nearly 400 such posts in 24 hours.

Earlier today we switched the settings on our Blog to require commenters to register as a temporary fix. I haven't found one, other than to begin moderating comments, which we aren't willing to do -- especially if so many of them are spam. So, for now we would rather keep the space for comments open, even if it means the comment sections will get muddied up with spam posts. When our Web czar returns from his honeymoon in a week or so, hopefully we'll find a better solution.

Meanwhile, happy posting.

Jim Shultz

Maybe Evo Should Get Married

As MAS and opposition parties continue to struggle over the specifics of a new national constitution, one of the hot button issues (among many) is the question of Presidential re-election. Under the current constitution the President of Bolivia may not run for re-election – though they he or she is allowed to sit out a term and run again five years later, a la Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada.

Evo Morales and MAS want to change the "no re-election" rule. MAS' opponents are resolute about keeping the one term limit. This is another one of those issues – like the battle over requiring a 2/3 vote on everything in the Constituent Assembly – where it is important to sort out the difference between democratic principle and partisan self-interest.

Where you Stand Depends on Where You Sit

As I wrote during the 2/3 battle, I have no doubt that if PODEMOS had been in the majority in the Constituent Assembly, and MAS in the minority, their positions would have been reversed. PODEMOS leaders would have been insistent that a minority not be allowed to stand in the way of Bolivia's majority charting a course forward. MAS would have been shutting down the Assembly with protests, demanding respect for minority rights. Similarly, if Tuto Quiroga had won the vote in 2005 with a 2 to 1 edge (as Evo did), PODEMOS would be the champion of a reform allowing re-election (and MAS would be opposing it).

The no re-election rule is not uncommon in Latin America, where a history of dictatorships raises natural concerns about leaders who consolidate power and think they ought to be President for a very, very long time. On the other hand, Latin American countries such as Brazil allow for re-election, and it serves as a mechanism of accountability on leaders who know they will face the voters again and be judged.

To call simple re-election a step toward authoritarianism is just a partisan exaggeration. It is especially silly from people who worship the U.S. political system where, obviously, re-election is allowed. On the other hand, allowing the option of a lifetime Presidency, a la Castro, or as Chavez apparently would like to have in Venezuela – that is a legitimate 'democratic' worry.

You don't have to be a rocket scientist, or a political scientist, to understand why MAS' adversaries oppose letting Evo stand for re-election, even once. They assume they will lose. If they thought that they could beat Evo in 2010, they'd be delighted to have him run again. Remember, Morales could lose a sizeable portion of his 2005 support and, with an opposition split among the likely faces of Tuto, Manfred, and Samuel (among others), still finish far ahead of any of them. He is clearly also the strongest candidate MAS could field. His opponents know this too.

Two Possible Solutions

There is an obvious compromise here – allow for one re-election and no more. It isn't an especially radical idea. If Tuto, Manfred, and Samuel think that Evo should end his presidency in 2010, they can make their case to the Bolivian people. That sounds reasonably democratic to me. But, similarly, MAS should accept that a presidency beyond ten years isn't a great recipe. Presidential administrations, like yogurt or cheese, tend to start smelling bad after they have been around too long.

Now there is another solution, you might call it the Argentine Plan. Yesterday voters in Argentina voted overwhelmingly to elect the nation's First Lady, Cristina Kirchner, as her husband's successor. President Nestor Kirchner could have run for re-election himself under the Argentine constitution, but for reasons known truly only to the couple's pillows, they opted for the swap. To be clear, Ms. Kirchner is a political leader in her own right, a former national Senator.

This model of spouse-swapping in the executive mansion seems to be catching on. The Clintons are trying it in the U.S. in 2008, though with an eight-year time delay. We'll see how that works out. Maybe Morales might want to give it a try.

If MAS' opposition remains insistent and eventually MAS backs down on its call for allowing re-election, it does have another option. Evo could get married. There are many fine Bolivian women political leaders who Evo could join at the altar, and then back to succeed him. It might need to be an arranged marriage. We can speculate that Evo might not be the easiest fellow to be married to. But politics has a price.

Or perhaps, wanting to save the sanctity of marriage in Bolivian, MAS' conservative opposition might back down and allow him to stand for re-election – once. They can use the money they would save on wedding presents to help finance their campaigns against Evo in 2010.

A Salute to the Best Bolivian Journalism of the Year

Newsflash: U.S. President George Bush has terminated the services of Ambassador Phillip Goldberg, and has announced that he is appointing a new Ambassador to Bolivia, former President Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada.

Update from the Constituent Assembly: Leaders of the body, from all parties, have decided to extend its deadline again to permit it to finish its work. The new deadline is the year 2025.

From Cochabamba: Governor Manfred Reyes Villa has released new evidence that he is being followed by spies again, this time of some mysterious Caribbean origin.

Presidential Shocker: Evo Morales has just announced his religious conversion to Islam.

These are just a few of the stories brought to us this week in the annual satire edition of the Cochabamba daily newspaper Opinion. The paper, produced in miniature form, is a tradition to coincide with Cochabamba's annual celebration of La Alisitas, a celebration of everything miniature. At the Feria de la Alisitas you can get everything from miniature closets (Barbie size) to miniature U.S. passports (not suitable for entry, just in case Homeland Security is reading). If you have a kid under 10, go! I am hoping to find some miniature feet [inside joke].

But the newspaper, for me, is the best part. I like to imagine the reporters and editors brainstorming ideas, not to mention the killer artwork that goes with it (see above). Some additional highlights:

On the Ambassador Goni story: "Ambassador Goldberg resigned from his diplomatic career in order to help Evo Morales arrange the change of location of Disney World to Orinoca [Morales' hometown near Oruro]."

On Manfred and the Spies: "Evidently the men [according to a Manfred spokesman] not only walk, but dance behind Manfred, incapable of imitating Andean rigidity." The article is accompanied by a photo of street dancers.

The "International Committee of Sucre" has made a demand to the Nobel Peace Prize Committee in Norway that the prize be renamed from Nobel por La Paz to Nobel por Sucre.

And the new Bolivian constitution will include a provision requiring Evo Morales to run for reelection for the rest of his life. The doctored photo of an aging Evo in his 14th term of office looks disturbingly like he had his DNA mingled with Carlos Mesa.

Santa Cruz Shows its Warm and Fuzzy Side Once Again

Santa Cruz civic leaders, in their opposition efforts against the Morales Administration, have always wrapped themselves in the mantle of Bolivia's true protectors of democracy. They stand in contrast, they tell us, to the anti-democratic threat of Bolivia's left in general and MAS and Morales in particular.

Over the past few weeks, however, leaders and groups in Santa Cruz have shown us some unusual illustrations of what they mean by democracy and enlightened governance.

Last week, for example, we learned that the Santa Cruz airport was a place where airline pilots were expected to pay special landing fees in cash. American Express and Visa, not accepted. Those "under the wing" fees fueled a special slush fund for airport officials and others, the details of which we are still learning about.

Also last week, the region's governor offered anther glimpse at how things are done Santa Cruz style. In his call for tens of thousands of Cruceños to march on the airport and retake it by force, following the military's dawn takeover, Governor Ruben Costas pronounced himself the "only true commander in the region." That declaration led to a reminder from the head of Bolivia's military this week, to the governors, that none of them have any command authority under the nation's constitution.

Then yesterday some of Santa Cruz's youth showed us their own spirit of Cruceño commitment to peaceful democracy as well.

Over the weekend Morales sparked a new national debate over how to spend oil and gas revenues, when he proposed tapping those funds for a new pension plan for Bolivia's elderly, replacing the Bonosol program. Legitimately, this led to a round of concern by other recipients of those funds – from city governments to universities. It is altogether reasonable to insist on taking a close and sober look at how best to allocate public funds.

On Wednesday university students in Santa Cruz entered that debate with the eloquence that seems to be the standard now from the region – racist epithets and violence. Launching a confrontation with local police, at least five students and officers were wounded. We don't know if the students chatted with their grandparents about the plan for higher elderly benefits before they ripped off their shirts and started a street battle.

One of the things that you hear in Santa Cruz, about their neighbors in other parts is that, "We work, and they just protest all the time. That's their version of democracy, protest and violence." Santa Cruz argues that it needs autonomy as a way to shield itself from the evils of shoddy government, loudmouthed leaders, and violent protest.

But actually, right now, it looks like Santa Cruz is doing a pretty stellar job of having all those things right at home.

Photo from Opinion

The U.S. and Bolivia: Happy Together Again

This is a brief update for those of you who lost sleep this past week over the escalating war of rhetoric between the U.S. Embassy here and the Bolivian government.

As we reported earlier, Ambassador Phillip Goldberg got into a public tiff with the Morales Administration for an off-the-cuff comment that Evo might soon suggest moving Disneyland from the U.S. (after he made a similar suggestion about the U.N.). Morales and his Foreign Minister upped the ante by demanding an apology and threatening to forbid Goldberg from any more of those precious pre-dawn visits to the Presidential Palace (Morales' favored meeting time).

Well, we can all breath easier today. On Monday in La Paz, Mr. Goldberg and Foreign Minister David Choquehuanca made peace in private and then appeared in public to announce their renewed good feelings for one another. "I want to announce that the government of Bolivia accepts the explications and apologies of the U.S. Ambassador and we want to leave as closed the impasse," said Choquehuanca. "I'd like to ratify exactly what the Foreign Minister said," Mr. Goldberg chimed back.

La Paz is once again, "the happiest place on Earth."

There are, however, a few things that remain unclear about how this crisis was settled.

** Did Ambassador Goldberg eat his crow picante or as silpancho?

** Did Choquehuanca receive, as part of the deal, Mickey Mouse ears with his name embroidered on them? Attention to U.S. Embassy readers: This would have been a nice touch.

** Did the U.S. government make any formal overtures to move Disneyland to Sucre? I think this would actually be a better deal for them than moving the Bolivian capital. Trust me, Space Mountain would draw in way more visitors than the Congress. They could also have a special attraction, "Mr. Evo's Wild Ride", based on an armed raid of the Viru Viru airport. But, Santa Cruz-style, you'd have to pay admission to the ride separately, in cash, and on the sly.

I don't know what sort of refreshments were served that helped the two governments start acting like adults again, but if someone knows the recipe, I think there would be some real demand for it.

By the way, if they do move Disneyland to Sucre, in the name of decentralization, could Cochabamba have "It's a Small World?" My 5-year-old would like that.

Los Tiempos Interview with Alvaro Garcia Linera

As the debate continues over the government’s raid of the Santa Cruz airport on Thursday morning, today’s Los Tiempos carries an interview with Vice President Alvaro Garcia Linera that offers up the government’s version of events.

You can read the interview here.

Some highlights:

**Linera defends the use of troops on Thursday based on reports that there were people at the airport equipped with small arms who weren’t eager to surrender what the government claims is up to $250,000 pocketed personally by airport officials from the special “under the wing” cash payments demanded of foreign airlines.

** He dodges all of the Hugo Chavez/Venezuela questions. Separately, however, the government claimed elsewhere that the presence of Venezuelan soldiers captured by television cameras at the airport was “coincidental”, that they were there “to pick up Bolivian scholarship students.”

** He dismisses the “I am the only commander of the people” comments of Santa Cruz’s governor as rantings from the balcony.

** He characterizes the government’s decision to withdraw its troops from the airport as a move to avoid a direct violent conflict with organized Crucenos and charges that civic leaders there are looking for a martyr.

There are all kinds of conflicting reports about what actually happened at the airport on Thursday – as many as there are sources. Among the lingering questions:

1. Was the use of troops to retake the airport an overreaction to something that could have been settled administratively or necessary in the face of armed defenders of the airport administration?

2. Did the government troops that descended on the airport Thursday morning just break windows (as the government claims) or open fire, as others claim?

3. Were the Venezuelans filmed at the airport a part of the raid in some way, or was it really just a strange coincidence (which seems a stretch)?

More important than all these questions is this one: Will the incidents over the airport this week be the spark that finally ignites a year and a half of political tension into violent conflict – or will it be a wake up call to all sides, as was January in Cochabamba, to go back to the negotiating table?

At a rhetorical level, the government and the Santa Cruz leaders have both started to sound like a pair of drunken teenage boys, hurling insults at one another. Fortunately, for now, the testosterone on both sides seems to be verbal. What remains to be seen is if there is enough political maturity on both sides to keep it that way.

Running an International Airport: Santa Cruz Style

The management at the Viru Viru international airport in Santa Cruz has evidently taken up an odd way to greet arriving airlines, a practice that came to light here earlier this week. In a move called "bajo ala" or "under the wing", managers at the airport began telling pilots that if they wanted clearance to takeoff from the airport they needed to make a payment, in cash, of somewhere between $1,000 to $2,000. Some portion of these funds, according to Bolivian news reports, went into a personal account of one of the officials.

The demand for these cash payments led three airlines this week – American, TAM, and GOL – to temporarily suspend flights altogether, leaving hundreds of passengers stranded, from Bolivia to the U.S.

Now this is serious business (as I'll get to in a minute) but first, I really just need to take a moment to imagine the conversation at the Santa Cruz airport:

American Airlines: This is flight 922 requesting permission from the tower to land.

Santa Cruz Tower: Okay 922, permission granted, but my boss wants you to see him on the runway for a minute after you land.

American Airlines: Roger that? (Hey Joe, what the %#*& do you think that's about?)

On the Runway:

American Airlines pilot: You asked to see me?

Santa Cruz airport official: Yes, we have sort of a new rule here.

American Airlines pilot: And that would be…

Santa Cruz airport official: Well, Evo isn't sending us the money we need and, you know, we have a lot of costs. Anyway, to takeoff I'll need a cash payment of $1,500.

American Airlines pilot: You're joking, right?

Santa Cruz airport official: Funny, the guy from TAM said the same thing. No, you actually do need to pay us $1,500.

American Airlines pilot: You're crazy, we don't make payments like that. And we don't even have $1,500 in cash on us.

Santa Cruz airport official: A check?

American Airlines pilot: No, we don't have checks either.

Santa Cruz airport official: We can't take credit cards. Too easy to trace. Pretzels?

American Airlines pilot: Look buddy, we don't have cash, we don’t have a check, and since 9/11 we don’t even have pretzels.

Santa Cruz airport official: Duty free?

Okay, that's how I am guessing that it went. But it is just a guess.

In any event, American Airlines didn't like the new arrangements well at all and flew flight #922 back to Miami empty earlier this week and told Bolivian air officials that they weren't coming back until they dealt with the scam.

According to Los Tiempos, Santa Cruz airport officials defended the special payment demands to the airlines, claiming that the money was needed because the airports regular revenues are administered by the national government and had been frozen as part of a look into the airport's debt and possible fraud. Among other things, 20% of the budget to manage the airport, about $250,000, was being used to pay honoraria to members of an Administrative Council, the function of which remained unclear.

On Tuesday, the Santa Cruz Civic Committee announced that it has negotiated a temporary truce with the airlines (no mention of pretzels included) and flights were set to resume.

Then in the pre-dawn hours Thursday, the Morales administration flew in a force of at least 300 soldiers, commanded by the head of the nation's Air Force. The soldiers led a surprise takeover of the airport, including replacing those in charge. The Morales administration, pointing out the suspension of flights, described the move as necessary to protect the free flow of public air travel.

Morales critics will properly note the irony of that declaration given the President's regular use of road blockades as an instrument of protest during his pre-presidential days. Accountants however, may stand in awe of what is, to be honest, a pretty dramatic way to start a fiscal audit.

The pre-dawn drop of soldiers from the sky did not go down well with Santa Cruz civic leaders. The Governor of the Department of Santa Cruz, Ruben Costas, called on "20,000 to 50,000" Crucenos to march on the airport to force an end to the national government's takeover. And sounding eerily like a Bolivian Al Haig (youngsters, you will need to look that one up), he added that "they should await orders that are given by the only commander the people have, me."

Costas also decided to add a little Venezuelan flavor to the mix of his hot public rhetoric, declaring President Hugo Chavez as a persona-non-grata in the department. To my knowledge, President Chavez was not at the Santa Cruz airport (nor were any soldiers from Venezuela, Cuba, Iran, North Korea, or the Taliban). But there is a guy who serves coffee at the Brazil Café that looks a little like Chavez. It might have been just an honest mistake by the Santa Cruz Governor, or he may have just needed something more compelling to motivate people than banners reading, "Oye, American Airlines, donde esta mi plata, pues?"

Earlier today the Morales Administration announced that is was removing the troops from the airport in order to avoid provoking a confrontation. That was probably a wise move, especially since it had already achieved its objective of taking control away from the cash-charging managers. The government will continue to carry out an audit of the airport's finances.

I asked the friendly agent at our local American Airlines office this morning if they were flying as normal. "Yes," he told me. "But if you are flying from Santa Cruz, we suggest arriving at the airport four hours early." That is pretty close to the hour that the Air Force arrived yesterday, but I don't think that's why.

In any event, if you are flying this way and shortly before landing the stewardesses start walking the aisles and passing the hat, it may not actually be a collection for needy children around the world. Just in case, I'd ask.

Photo: Stranded passengers at the Santa Cruz airport this week, from Los Tiempos.

Octubre Negro – Four Years Later

Readers:

It was four years ago tonight – October 17, 2003 – that Bolivians sat before their televisions bearing witness to a dramatic split screen image that marked a sea change in the nation’s history.

On one side of the screen President Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada, a key architect of the nation’s discredited march to privatization, was aboard an airliner at the Santa Cruz airport headed for Miami. On the other side of the screen a somber Vice President, Carlos Mesa, stood before the Congress ready to assume Sánchez de Lozada’s place. He began by asking for a national minute of silence in memory of those killed by the political repression that had led to the widespread demands for Sanchez de Lozada’s ouster.

Below is the introduction and link to an article that The Democracy Center was invited to publish today on the global Blog, “Why Democracy?” In this article Democracy Center team members Elliot Williams and Lily Whitesell look at the demand for justice raised against a host of Latin American ex-presidents, from Chile to Bolivia to Peru and beyond.

For those interested, here is a link to the reporting on Sánchez de Lozada’s departure that we published four years ago. Here is a link to an interesting article just published by Time magazine about the new pair of civil and criminal cases chasing after Mr. Sánchez de Lozada four years into his self-imposed Maryland exile.

Jim Shultz

Latin Americans Challenge Impunity

In Latin America in the first decade of the new century, a region of the world that was once synonymous with dictatorship and repression has emerged as place of rich new democracies. Democracy is on the rise, especially here in South America. Countries that passed from authoritarian regimes, elected governments obedient to the forced economics of the Washington Consensus are paving their own way. Social movements have become a driving force – from the streets to the halls of power.

But there is one aspect of democracy in Latin America that remains a point of struggle. Former heads of state that robbed their countries through corruption and killed their peoples in their efforts to hold onto power, have been allowed to live happy lives in exile. From Pinochet to Fujimori, Latin Americans are demanding an end to impunity.

Today Bolivia, where The Democracy Center is based, marks the fourth anniversary of the ouster of its former President, Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada. "Goni" as he is nicknamed here, was forced to flee to the U.S. on October 17, 2003 following his brutal repression of protests challenging his market-driven economic policies. More than sixty people were killed. Today Mr. Sánchez de Lozada is under an arrest and extradition order for murder from the Bolivian Supreme Court, yet he remains in happy exile in suburban Maryland, protected by the Bush administration.

Read the full article here.

When Public Figures Say Foolish Things

Many of those who have followed the state of verbal relations between the U.S. and Bolivia the past few weeks are shaking their heads at what seems to be a competition between U.S. Ambassador Phillip Goldberg and President Evo Morales over who can say the most foolish thing in public.

In this current round, the sparring began during President Morales' recent visit to New York for the U.N. General Assembly, with side visits to Comedy Central and meetings with U.S. labor and social justice groups. Ticked off over the strange re-routing of his flight from Kennedy airport to Newark and ongoing troubles getting his aides visas to set foot on U.S. soil, Evo raised the issue of whether the U.N. should remain in the U.S. According to Reuters, Morales told the General Assembly:

"I don't know how all of you managed to come here to the United States. At least my delegation had a great deal of visa problems. Some of us are practically threatened by the rulers of the country, by President Bush. Perhaps if that's the case, we should change the site of the United Nations. Perhaps we should do research on that."

This was hardly a verbal declaration of war against the U.S. The Presidents of Iran and Venezuela have that covered. More it seemed like a President letting off steam in public about questions of U.S. respect for its more impoverished neighbors. On the other hand, the comment did detract from Morales' otherwise successful efforts to leave behind the impression of a leader with good humor and sincere hopes.

Morales is many things, but a professional diplomat is not one of them.

Enter Ambassador Goldberg who is, presumably, a professional diplomat, with more than a decade of service in the U.S. State Department.

A wiser diplomat might have sought to smooth things over by publicly or privately offering to assist the Bolivian government to speed the entry visa process for Bolivian officials headed to the U.S. on official business (this has become a chronic problem for the Morales administration).

Mr. Goldberg, however, proved to be not so wise. He responded by declaring publicly, "I wouldn't be surprised if he [Morales] would also want to move Disneyland." This was not, to be precise, a helpful move in furthering Mr. Goldberg's responsibilities to maintain good diplomatic relations with his host government.

If this were Ambassador Goldberg's first demonstration of diplomatic tone deafness, it might be excused as the learning curve of a man in his first Ambassadorial post. Unfortunately this current flap follows, by just a few months, the Embassy's 'Ammogate' episode.

In June the young relative of the Embassy's military attaché, a U.S. Army Colonel, was detained at the La Paz airport with 500 rounds of 45-caliber ammunition in her suitcase. Despite the obvious Bolivian public relations disaster this created for the Embassy (and despite sentiments within the Embassy that the Colonel needed to either publicly apologize or go) Goldberg tried to paper the incident over as just an innocent mistake. Again, a wiser diplomat might have dealt with the issue differently.

The Los Angeles Times reports that, in the current 'Is Disneyland Next?' incident the Ambassador tried to pass off his comments as a poor attempt at humor. Writes a Times reporter, "Goldberg says he was just trying to introduce some levity, but the Bolivian government didn’t appreciate the joke."

If true, this would also not be the first time that Mr. Goldberg has demonstrated a certain diplomatic cluelessness at humor. I was present at a public talk by Mr. Goldberg in Cochabamba earlier this year in which he stunned many listeners with a joke about the violent lynching of an El Alto woman. After the attack the injured woman was evidently wrapped in a USAID food sack, which Mr. Goldberg said was not what he had in mind when he proposed greater visibility for USAID efforts in Bolivia – chuckle, chuckle.

Mr. Goldberg's predecessor, Ambassador David Greenlee, certainly had no love for the Morales government and spoke disparagingly of it in private, as does Mr. Goldberg. But he managed to keep a diplomat's professional touch on his public comments and handling of potential conflicts.

Mr. Goldberg might also wish to take some lessons from his Bolivian counterpart in Washington, Gustavo Guzman. With his long hair, rumpled clothes, and complete lack of diplomatic experience on his journalist's resume, Mr. Guzman has still managed to carve out very good relations in Washington, even when his government back in La Paz makes that difficult.

Which brings me back to Morales' latest round of verbal retaliation to Goldberg's comments. Never one to turn the other cheek to the U.S., Bolivia's President declared that the Ambassador was no longer welcome in the Presidential Palace. Then this weekend, according to Los Tiempos, he ratcheted up the rhetoric another ten notches by ending a speech in the Chapare with an old cocalero rallying cry in Quechua – "Causachun Coca, Wañuchun Yankees". By tradition the chant is cocalero shorthand for, "Grow coca and get the U.S. agents out." However, its literal translation is, "Grow coca, death to Yankees," not the kind of thing that a President ought to be saying in public.

Not all words out of Presidential mouths are necessarily literal. Morales is obviously not calling for gringo heads. Similarly, we can presume (hopefully) that President Bush did not mean literally, "Bring 'em on!" when he invited insurgents in Iraq to step up their fight against U.S. soldiers. Nevertheless, Presidents of nations, be they in Washington or La Paz, would probably be wise to take more care with the words they utter in public.

And to be clear as well, I say foolish things too, but I am neither an Ambassador nor a President. Thank goodness for us all.

There is a way to avoid this needless international friction – it is called the “in their shoes” approach.

The U.S. Embassy in La Paz might ponder what would happen if a young Bolivian woman on her way to the Embassy in Washington showed up at the Miami airport loaded for bear with 45 caliber rounds in her suitcase. My guess is that Homeland Security would not have winked her on by based on a simple, “Oopsie, Gustavo likes to skeet shoot.”

In the same fashion, the folks at the Presidential Palace in La Paz might consider their reaction to President Bush declaring before a crowd of Iowa framers, “Grow corn and kill the Bolivians!” Now this is speculation on my part, but I am guessing that it wouldn’t go over that well here.

Lastly, it is worth noting that some of Mr. Morales' best political good fortune has come in the form of foolish attacks against him by the U.S. Embassy. When another of Mr. Goldberg's predecessor's, Manuel Rocha, attacked Morales on the eve of the 2002 elections, threatening an end to U.S. aid of the coca leader was elected, it almost doubled Morales' voter support overnight and propelled him to within two percentage points of first place.

So, here's a better approach for Morales the next time Mr. Goldberg slips on a joke in public:

1. Publicly, tell the press that he must still be learning how to be an Ambassador.

2. Privately, send him flowers and a thank you note.

3. And drop "Wañuchun Yankees" from your speeches.

Oh, by the way, if they do decide to move the U.N. from New York, they might have a look at Sucre. It's a nice city with lovely climate and they are looking to expand.

Photo credit: Los Tiempos

Indigenous Groups Gather in Bolivia for a Different Kind of Columbus Day

Readers:

"In fourteen hundred ninety two Columbus sailed the ocean blue."

Well, that's how it was taught to us a few decades ago in elementary school in the U.S. Among the indigenous peoples of the Americas, European arrival and conquest is remembered a little differently. On this "Columbus Day" in Bolivia, Aldo Orellana of the Democracy Center staff brings us a report on a gathering of indigenous delegations here in Bolivia from all over the world to mark October 12 in a very different way.

Jim Shultz

Indigenous Groups Gather in Bolivia for a Different Kind of Columbus Day

Written by Aldo Orellana

Three days ago, indigenous people that had flown in from around the world arrived in Bolivia. According to local papers, there are delegations from more than twenty countries. Rigoberta Menchu, the indigenous woman who has received a Nobel Peace Prize for her work in Guatemala, is present. The ceremonies opened two days ago in La Paz, included a ritual in Tiwanaku yesterday, and today, speakers from several different groups will present a declaration at the closing ceremony in the Chapare.

They are here to join with Evo Morales in a counter-celebration of Columbus Day. Instead of observing the 515th anniversary of Columbus’ arrival, they are honoring the 515 years of indigenous resistance to European colonization of the Americas. They are also celebrating the recent, long-fought victory in the United Nations – a resolution affirming indigenous rights approved on September 13. Worldwide, native peoples number 370 million, 50 million of which live in Latin America. In the passage of the resolution, which was first proposed 25 years ago, 143 countries voted in favor; there were 11 abstentions; and only four voted against it – Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the United States.

The 46-article document focuses primarily on indigenous peoples’ right to self-governance. That is, it affirms their right to make their own choices on issues that concern them – their political orientation, their economic, social, and cultural development, the right and recognition of their people as nations, autonomous governance, and the freedom to decide their relationship with the government of the country in which they live. The declaration also supports individual and collective indigenous rights and the right to their traditional territories and the natural resources found on them.

In Bolivia, the United Nations’ declaration is already being heralded among indigenous people. Constituent Assembly representatives have cited it in defense of the proposal to call Bolivia a “Plurinational State” as part of its National Vision. The representatives argue that it would recognize the preexistence of indigenous nations living in Bolivia, precisely what the newly approved declaration proclaims to be a right of indigenous peoples around the world. The indigenous peoples of Ecuador have also taken stock in the new declaration, as they aim to fight for similar language to be included in a Constituent Assembly they have called for.

This historic resolution will not fix all the struggles and problems indigenous people face throughout the world. There is still a long way to go before reaching the goals set forth in the resolution. There is much work to be done at the national level – getting governments to pass laws approving the declaration and incorporating it into their legal system.

Even if every nation were to do so, however, indigenous people around the world face other challenges that are even more difficult to overcome, which cannot be solved only through laws – the discrimination many face on a daily basis. A prior UN resolution passed in 1989 that recognized indigenous peoples’ inclusion and rights, for example, did not stop discriminatory practices by individuals. In August, Rigoberta Menchu, the Nobel Peace Prize winner, was refused entry to a conference in Cancun by hotel staff – until some conference-goers recognized her and spoke out on her behalf.

Even when this kind of racism is prohibited by law in every country of the world, changing people’s mindsets will not happen overnight. Discrimination on the basis of race and ethnicity will continue for generations to come. The United Nations’ resolution, however, is an important step forward for the global community. Their actions now charge the rest of us with making their declaration a reality.

At the close of the ceremonies, which happens today, the indigenous groups represented will make a statement on a series of issues – the environment; land, territory, and natural resources; and indigenous rights. The statement will reflect a growing shift in the global indigenous movement – from resistance to moving forward with proposals and an agenda of their own. Above all, they will declare their common commitment to bringing home the United Nations’ resolution – and the principles, values, and rights it upholds.

Translated to English by Lily Whitesell.

Photo from Los Tiempos.

Thinking About Ralph and Al

I was an early convert to political activism. At the ripe age of fourteen I was propelled by the Vietnam War into a small local campaign office for a Senator named George McGovern who was challenging President Richard Nixon's re-election on an anti-war platform. I lived in Nixon's California hometown, Whittier. Despite my spending most of my after school afternoons walking door-to-door on his behalf (and getting bit by dogs, twice), Senator McGovern lost badly. But my commitment to activism didn't fade.

As I pondered my future as a young man I ran into a fork in the political rode. Which of my two political heroes of the time did I want to emulate. One was Senator McGovern, who came to Whittier and told us that running for office was noble. The other was Ralph Nader, who wouldn't touch running for office with a ten foot poll, but who was piling up an impressive array of important victories as an advocate – from seat belts to clean water.

A politician or an advocate?

I suppose now, in retrospect, that I made my choice on that a very long time ago. I was the chief aid to a popular California Assemblywoman and well positioned to be her successor – the first rung on a long ladder of ambition. But the games that politicians had to play proved more than I could stomach. So I switched sides. I quit and became the state lobbyist for Common Cause in California, a political reform group. I still remember the stunned looks on the faces of my friends in the Capitol when I told them.

All of which brings me back to Ralph (Nader) and Al (Gore).

Al Gore was also an early convert to politics; his father was a U.S. Senator. Elected to Congress at 28, to the U.S. Senate at 36, making his first run for President at 40, and becoming Vice President at 44, it is hard to find a politician in the U.S. who committed to elected office as early and who rose up the ladder so fast.

But then, after being elected and not elected President in 2000, thanks to the U.S. Electoral College and the U.S. Supreme Court, Gore chucked it. He went silent for two years and came back a consummate outsider. He was an early (2002) and articulate opponent of President Bush's disastrous Iraq adventure and, of course, the most visible champion in the fight against global warming.

Ralph Nader, on the other hand, went the other direction.

Nader has so many godchildren in public interest advocacy in the U.S. that it isn't worth counting. The whole culture of research-based public interest advocacy owes most of its existence to Ralph. He pioneered the vision of having organizations and citizens versed in the facts – able to take on any politician, corporate lobbyist, or journalist toe to toe. He continued to be a hero of mine for a long, long time and I was honored in 2002 when he wrote an endorsement for the cover of my last book.
Every four years some small group of fans would try to coax Ralph into running for President and he would demur, saying it wasn't his method of making change. Then in 2000, understandably frustrated by the impotence of both Democrats and Republicans alike to champion environmental and consumer rights, Ralph went boldly where he had never gone before, running for the presidency, with the Green Party.

The results of that history are hard to argue. Florida handed the presidency to George W. Bush by a margin of 543 votes. Nader pulled more than 97,000. If Ralph had stayed an advocate, George Bush would likely just be the retired Governor of Texas and the history in the world since would look very, very different.

Ralph Nader as an advocate was not only a political powerhouse but paved the way for thousands that will follow in his formidable footsteps for decades to come. When he moved from advocacy to candidacy his public influence virtually evaporated overnight and even groups with which he was no longer formally associated, like Public Citizen, had to fight against the evaporation of their own support base as well.

Al Gore, after trading in candidacy for advocacy, has increased his influence and impact far beyond anything he had in all but the highest office in the nation. That influence reached a new peak today with his receipt of the Nobel Peace prize for his efforts to alert the planet about the dangers of global warming.

All this reminds me of a scene in the Woody Allen film, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex but Were Afraid to Ask. A mad scientist engages in an experiment in which he declares, "I am going to transplant the brain of a lesbian into the body of a man who works for the telephone company!" In 2000 Gore and Nader's separate public trajectories met and it is as if they traded places. The advocate became the candidate and the candidate became the advocate.

There is little question today which of them made the better strategic choice. Few of us will provide public leadership by running for office, though it is good that many good people give it a shot. Far more of us have the chance to change our world for the better as citizens, informed and active ones.

That is what so many of us admire so deeply in the legacy of pre-candidate Ralph Nader. Today it is what the whole world is admiring, deservedly, in Citizen Al Gore.

More Shenanigans at SEMAPA

Seven and a half years after the Water Revolt, in which people of Cochabamba spilled into the streets to take back their privatized public water company from the U.S. corporate giant Bechtel, the management of the reconstituted public company continues to be a mess. [Here is our recent briefing paper on the topic.]

Today's edition of the Cochabamba daily, Los Tiempos, carries the latest set of charges against the company's (SEMAPA) general manager, Eduardo Rojas. An outside audit commissioned by the water company's elected citizen board charges the management with a variety of offenses. These include padding the company's already overstaffed payroll (many of them secretaries); hiring staff that are not qualified for their positions; and taking more than seven months to complete water service projects scheduled to be wrapped up in just three.

While I haven't seen or read the actual audit, I have no doubt that Mr. Rojas' management is a mess. I had my own interactions with him before he took charge of the Cochabamba water company, and he was not, to say the least, an impressive civil servant.

At the end of 2006, in the waning days before Evo Morales became President of Bolivia, Rojas was the national government's vice-minister in charge of negotiating an agreement with Bechtel to drop the corporation's legal demand for $50 million as a result of being kicked out. The case was being heard before a secretive trade court at the World Bank. Bechtel was eager to settle the case, as a result of a wave of bad international press and citizen organizing against the company.

In December 2006 word leaked out that the government was close to signing a deal in which Bechtel would drop the case for a token payment of two bolivianos, about 30 cents. Needless to say, many people, including the leaders of the Water Revolt, were suspicious and they demanded to see the agreement. Rojas, the man in charge, promised for almost two weeks to fax a copy and never did, giving rise to even more suspicion and landing those doubts on the front pages in Cochabamba.

Faced with the possibility of the deal collapsing, Rojas finally provided the agreement and agreed to meet with a small group of technical people to review its details. I was at the meeting. The agreement Bechtel was proposing was a complex legal deal that involved Bolivia buying back the shell company Bechtel had formed and assuming its debts. Key information was missing and Rojas didn't have a clue about the content or the implications of the agreement that he was getting ready to sign in Bolivia's name.

Personally, I was astonished that the civil servant in charge was so clueless about a matter so important. I also wasn't the only one who heard echoes of the last time Bechtel and Bolivian officials had sat down behind closed doors and worked out a deal. That was the one that gave Bechtel Cochabamba's water under terms so bad that it sparked the Water Revolt shortly afterwards.

In the end, oddly, we were able to get the missing detail only through a friendly back channel I had established with Bechtel's San Francisco office. It was in that detail that Bechtel finally admitted for the first time that it had only invested $1 million in Cochabamba, while demanding fifty times that. Soon after the deal was signed.

My second experience of astonishment involving Rojas came just months later when Cochabamba's Mayor arranged for him to be appointed as SEMAPA's general director and pushed through the appointment with almost no scrutiny. I actually ran into Mr. Rojas in the city's central plaza in the midst of it all and he told me that the appointment had come as a surprise to him as well. He explained that he had come to Cochabamba from La Paz to talk to the Mayor about the possibility of leading SEMAPA and suddenly found himself in a news conference announcing his appointment.

It is no surprise that his tenure has had such major problems. SEMAPA's board has initiated an administrative process to demand responses to the charges in the audit. If the mismanagement the audit suggests is true, I think they should send him packing immediately and find someone competent to replace him.

Critics of the water revolt and fans of privatization will likely seize on all this to declare that privatization is a better solution. They might want to wait a minute. If you want to see how much better privatization into the hands of a foreign corporation works out in Bolivia, have a look at Enron's masterful handling of its (along with Shell Oil) massive oil spill here in 2000. Enron sent corporate officials into villages by helicopter to tell worried farmers that the spilled oil was actually good fertilizer for their crops and later declared that it was just a coincidence that thousands of their llamas and sheep died. We will publish our full-fledged investigation on that in our forthcoming book.

But making a company public is not the solution, it is just the start of a process in which citizens must understand the workings of that company and demand accountability and effectiveness. It is too bad that the kind of public scrutiny that led to the audit didn't also stop Rojas' appointment to begin with, or uncover his mismanagement long before now.

But it might also be the start of another water revolt, a less glamorous one to be sure, but one in which Cochabamba's people start to get the kind of public water system they deserve.

It's Good to Home Again in Bolivia

It is good to be out the door again at 6am climbing into the Cochabamba hills with my two Cochabamba dogs. It is good to see the children in their white smocks scrambling to board a bus and head to school. It is good to hear the rumble of the old Trufi buses – hand-me-downs from South Korea – as they troll up and down the hillside.

It is good to be able to deliver my daughter again to her pre-school where the squealing on the playground is in Spanish. It is good to handover a silver coin to the banana lady to get my breakfast. It is good to feel the spring sun on my face.

It is good to be home again in Cochabamba.

Bolivia is so much more than its politics. It is not politics that seduces so many foreign visitors into loving this place and seduces a few more of us into making it our home. It is something else that makes us fall for the place.

This month marks nine years since my family and I boarded a plane in the Bay Area and headed back to Cochabamba. Add onto that the year that my wife and I spent here in 1991-92 as volunteers in an orphanage – volunteerism, not politics brought us here – and this month marks a decade.

Since May when The Democracy Center wrapped up the manuscript of our new book on Bolivia and globalization (coming next U.S. spring from University of California Press) I have been out of Bolivia for more time than I have been here. There were work trips to New Mexico, Montenegro, the UK, the Netherlands and the US. There was moving my eldest daughter to college in Florida and sitting with my elderly mother in California.

All these were wonderful places and important tasks. But it is good to be home again in Bolivia. This time I am staying put for a while.

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the return of democracy to Bolivia, following a run of bloody dictators from Banzer to García Meza. Today, even the Vice-President of the former and a military attaché to the latter – current opposition leaders both – are busy proclaiming the virtues of democratic rule. Some will point to the era of Goni as something less than full democracy and others will say the same of Evo. But Bolivia under both was and is a far cry from the days of mass disappearances, suspension of constitutional rights, and routine torture. Bolivia today may be a place of noisy and heated debate, but it is a democratic debate and a healthy one. But again, Bolivia is more than its politics.

San Francisco under clear blue skies is hard to beat.

Amsterdam with its bicycles and canals is truly beautiful.

New York City is a thrill ride and you have to love those dinosaur skeletons.

But when I click my heels and head for home, home is Cochabamba, 'La Llajta.'

And I am pretty sure that the dogs are glad to have me back.

The Legal Case Against Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada Moves into High Gear

Can former heads of state be held legally accountable for human rights abuses they committed while in office?

The issue of 'impunity' has hung over Latin America in particular for a long time. With the arrest of Chile's Augusto Pinochet at the bequest of Spanish prosecutors in 1998, a new legal era of accountability was born affecting former leaders who once assumed themselves immune from accountability. The past month has seen the move for accountability move into overdrive. Peru's ex-President, Alberto Fujimori, was extradited back to Peru from Chile, where he faces criminal prosecution for human rights abuses. Also in Chile, where General Pinochet himself escaped prosecution by dying, his widow and children were arrested last week on corruption charges.

This month Bolivia will commemorate the fourth anniversary of the public ouster of President Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada. As it remembers the bloody days of October 2003, legal moves against its former-president and one of his top aides have also moved back into high gear and into the headlines both in Bolivia and the U.S.

Sánchez de Lozada fled Bolivia on October 17, 2003 following his government's bloody repression of protests against his plan to export the nation's natural gas at bargain prices to the U.S. through Chile. Sixty-seven people were killed and more than 400 wounded. Since then the former head of state has been living in self-imposed exile in suburban Maryland, resisting Bolivian court orders to return for testimony and trial, and protected by the Bush administration.

Two important legal developments suggest that Sánchez de Lozada's Chevy Chase retirement may not go as smoothly as he had hoped.

The Criminal Case

For four years the families of the victims of October 2003 have campaigned to extradite Sánchez de Lozada, along with two aides, through a criminal case in the Bolivian court system. In 2005 Bolivia's Congress, still controlled by the former president's own party, authorized the prosecution and shortly afterwards the Bolivian Supreme Court issued an order commanding Sánchez de Lozada to return to Bolivia to provide testimony in the case. Following international law, that order was formally transmitted to the U.S. government, which bore responsibility to serve the notification to its Maryland visitor. Two years later, the Bush Administration had still refused to serve those papers.

In August, Bolivia's Supreme Court issued a finding that Sánchez de Lozada didn't need to be served by the U.S. to be made aware of the prosecution – noting among other things his appearance on CNN proclaiming his refusal to return to Bolivia for trial. So, in September, the Court issued a formal request for extradition. A week ago in Washington Bolivia's ambassador told me that the Embassy is currently preparing the English translation and is meeting with the U.S. State Department to insist that the U.S. honor its international legal responsibilities and end its protection of the deposed president.

Few people, in either Bolivia or the U.S. believe that the Bush administration, or any subsequent to it, is likely to escort Mr. Sánchez de Lozada to the airport in Miami for boarding. The U.S. has a long history of providing safe haven to deposed leaders with human rights records far worse than the ex-Bolivian president's, including the Shah of Iran and Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza. But that doesn't relinquish the U.S. from its legal duties nor will it detract the move by the families to demand justice.

All of which makes a new civil case against Sánchez de Lozada all the more important.

The Civil Case

On September 24th the legal moves against Sánchez de Lozada took a new turn, one that may prove far more worrisome to the man in Chevy Chase and his former top aide. With the backing and pro bono firepower of the Center for Constitutional Rights and the International Human Rights Clinic at Harvard Law School, civil suits were filed on behalf of the families against both Sánchez de Lozada and his former top deputy, Carlos Sánchez Berzaín, who now lives in Florida. The case charges both men with extra-judicial killings in the Black October massacres.

The twin civil cases charge Sánchez de Lozada and Sánchez Berzaín with responsibility for ordering the use of deadly force by police and troops. This included the use of machine guns as well as government snipers against unarmed protesters and children. All ten plaintiffs in the cases are family members of those killed in the protests of October 2003. Eloy Rojas Mamani and Etelvina Ramos Mamani’s 8-year-old daughter was killed in her mother’s bedroom when a bullet came through the window. Teofilo Baltazar Cerro’s pregnant wife and unborn child were killed. Felicidad Rosa Huanca Quispe’s 69-year-old father was shot and killed along a roadside.

In the civil suit, the families are seeking both compensatory and punitive damages, potentially enough to bankrupt both men.

As foreign citizens in the United States, the charges against the two men are being brought under the Alien Tort Statute and the Torture Victim Protection Act. The Alien Tort Statute was implemented in 1789, originally intended to prosecute foreign pirates residing in the country. It has since been utilized in a number of cases, including a successful suit against former President Marcos of the Philippines won in 1995. Lasting nearly 10 years, this suit, which also brought charges of crimes against humanity, ended with $2 billion of damages being awarded to victims’ families.

Marcos, like Sánchez de Lozada, had been a staunch U.S. ally. In 1981, five years before he was also run from the country by his own people, then-Vice President George Bush praised Marcos’ “adherence to democratic principles and to democratic processes." Mr. Bush's son lavished similar support for the embattled Sánchez de Lozada in 2003.

"No Safe Haven"

In Bolivia and elsewhere, Mr. Sánchez de Lozada has many boosters, most of whom cite political reforms he carried out in his first term in office in the 1990s, rather than his bloody short-lived term that ended four years ago this month. Among most Bolivians however, his name has become synonymous with gross acts of corruption and the giveaway of all of the nation's major industries to foreign corporations. More important, for more than sixty Bolivian families, Mr. Sánchez de Lozada's name has become synonymous, along with that of Mr. Sánchez Berzaín, for the smug impunity that allowed them to order the killings of their families followed by happy and wealthy lives in Maryland and Miami under U.S. protection.

The civil case fills that gap in justice, creating the potential for both public shame and a massive financial hit against those the families believe are responsible for the killings of their loved ones. Both men can expect to devote a good deal or their time from this day forward to writing checks to expensive U.S. lawyers, to having to defend themselves publicly for the events they presided over and, potentially, to following in the footsteps of Mr. Marcos and seeing their personal fortunes evaporated. A case that seemed, just a month ago, to have fallen to the margins, is now a real threat.

Judith Chomsky, an attorney from the Center for Constitutional Rights declared, “Human rights violators such as the defendants can no longer assume that they will have a safe haven in the United States; instead, our courts will hold them accountable for violations of universally recognized human rights.”

"Sanchez de Lozada should pay for what happened in our country," Juan Patricio Quispe told the Washington Post. Mamani's brother was shot in the back by soldiers under the former President's command on Oct. 12, 2003. "We want justice."
This week, he and other families are a big step closer to actually seeing that justice come to pass.

This post was co-authored by Elliot Wiiliams and Lily Whitesell

Photo Credit: www.barrioflores.net