All About Nationhood: Dispatch From Bolivia
May 27, 2014
All About Nationhood
Dispatch From Bolivia
by CHELLIS GLENDINNING
Sucre, Bolivia.
Independence Day in Sucre was the most electrifying day in the Andes since Cochabamba doctors–armed with rocks and in full white-coat-stethoscope regalia–hurled themselves into street battle against the police and the police hurled their computers into bonfires and burned down their own stations.
Preparation for the grand event celebrating the Grito de Libertad began weeks in advance when workers of this White City set up scaffolding for the annual re-whitening of the Casa de Libertad in Plaza 25 de mayo. The paint businesses on Avenida Jaime Mendoza then realized their raison d’être as every home-owning Sucreño within ten blocks joined the effort to repaint their façades white. But that wasn´t all. In the week before, the other business to bolster its bank account from the patriotic frenzy–that of scaffolding assembly/disassembly–went into high gear to construct and deconstruct platforms and tiered seating for the outdoor concerts, fashion shows, and information tents that would whip up anticipation before the arrival of the Big Day.
25 de mayo 1809. Said Big Day is the moment in history when independence from their colonizers was declared—right here in Sucre–and the true inheritors of this Andes terrain began their long journey toward post-Inca, post-Spain nation-statehood. The Casa de Libertad, often termed a sacred place, is the gloriously white colonial building where the country´s first congress was held, Sucre was named the capital of Bolivia, the Declaración de Independencia was written and signed, and the first Bolivian flag was raised. Its place in history today is as a museum honoring the heroism of past paisanos, most notably Juana Azurduy de Padilla, and a backdrop for such cultural events as guitar concerts and rites-of-passage for dignitaries.
The corner of Aniceto Arce and Hernando Siles, where I am staying, is the appointed gathering place for marching bands, neighborhood associations, and worker syndicates who will parade by the Casa de Libertad, and so I had to muscle my way through the heaving crowds of campesinos and trabajadores to arrive at the plaza. Vale la pena, I say, because after scooting up Calle España, I found myself standing in the second row of a mass of excited Bolivians smack in front of the Casa de Libertad; upon the newly-restored balcony above stood President Evo Morales in his tri-color sash and el Vice Álvaro García Linera festooned in the gold medallion of Simón Bolivar. The energy in the air was like that of a rocket taking off–that just keeps taking off and taking off and taking off. ¡Ole! The marching drums, trumpets, tubas, and cymbals of military training colleges from La Paz, Santa Cruz, et al. strode proudly by in their green uniforms, in their camouflage suits, in their ironed khakis to the thundering beat of military rhythms. Evo waved at comrades he picked out in the crowd below. The men and women of the armed forces made their dramatic display for the Mandatario next. The army! The air force! And yes… the navy. The navy is a special story as Bolivia lost claim to its Pacific Ocean ports between 1879 and 1883 when neighbor Chile pilfered Bolivia´s coastal ports, as the story is told, at the moment that every Bolivian soldier was plastered on the home-made corn liquor known as chicha in celebration of Carnaval. 135 years later, the outrage remains El Numero Uno unresolved issue that every president—dictator, liberal, or socialist–reinserts into national consciousness to win friends, influence people, and bolster emotions for the nation-state.
Still, after all these years since that first grito, a country that is actually made up of 30-something historically separate Native groups, only truly launched its expedition toward the political identity of a nation-state during the 1932-35 Guerra del Chaco against Paraguay. The dynamic between decentralization and centralization is as present now as it was when the Inca roved across the altiplano with big-time plans for amalgamation on the tips of their tongues and spears; it manifests itself as debates about the meaning of the 2009 renaming of the country as Estado Plurinacional de Bolivia, about the weight of power among the Palace in La Paz, the nine departments, and the village-communities; about the nature of responsible development in a world going to ecological hell in a hand basket.
More:
http://www.counterpunch.org/2014/05/27/dispatch-from-bolivia/
