Clínica. Formes de presentació

“Ya no queremos ser folklore, ni afiche del gobierno. Queremos participación política y económica en este país. Queremos un estado plurinacional en práctica.”

-Cancio Rojas, May 13, 2014 While CONAMAQ historically supported President Morales’ rise to power, a major faction of the organization has since denounced the Morales administration’s tendency towards neo-extractivism and capitalist policies, seeing him as yet another pawn controlled by Western modernity. Members of the organic CONAMAQ view the government’s ongoing repression as an attempt to block the ‘real’ revolutionaries from fulfilling the process of change in a way that respects the 2009 constitution. The organic CONAMAQ continues to propose alternatives to development working at local, national, and international levels to fight for collective rights to land and territory and greater indigenous autonomy (CONAMAQ 2015).

Cancio Rojas and his daughter, Nilda Rojas, are the current national leaders of the organic CONAMAQ. Despite being kicked out of their office, they have been able to rent out a small space in the center of La Paz. When speaking with Nilda, we sat in two chairs in an empty room. When the sun set, we sat in darkness, for with all their funding sources cut off, the organization was not able to pay electricity bills. Nilda told me that she, and other members of CONAMAQ felt betrayed by the government, just as Tupac Katari was betrayed by his own people. Despite substantial setbacks, Cancio and Nilda continue fighting to represent the ayllus, suyus and markas of Bolivia with a deepening sense of urgency. Pachamama cannot be bought, nor can the leaders and members of CONAMAQ. They have turned down bribes from the government, choosing instead to fight for the rights of their communities.

Historically, CONAMAQ received the majority of their funding from the Fondo Indígena de los Pueblos Indígenas de América Latina y El Caribe as well as NGOs.

However, upon breaking away from the Unity Pact, the organic CONAMAQ lost all funding from the indigenous fund. Now Hilarion Mamani and CONAMAQ-MAS receives this money. Furthermore, the Morales administration recently expelled a Danish NGO, IBIS, from the country due to their financial support of the organic CONAMAQ.

In a monumental and symbolic push for autonomy, the group led by Nilda and Cancio has been directing their efforts in the last year to focus on creating a financially self-sufficient CONAMAQ. Some critics have stated that the money from the indigenous fund should be given to organizations that do not receive the same level of funding as those that are still part of the Unity Pact. Others believe that this money is soiled with the exploitation of Pachamama and communities who live off of the land. They instead opt for the ultimate struggle for autonomy in front of a government that has chosen not to recognize them as legitimate subjects.

This may be an example of what Charles Hale calls the “impossible subject”

(Hale 2011). Seeking fundamental structural change, they are, “analytically acute; willing to talk but only according to their own rules; preferring continued protest over incomplete concessions; always a force to contend with, in large part because they are so difficult to pin down” (201). Hale highlights the downside of this strategy, that radical organizations

“elude the entanglements, but forgo the quite significant benefits as well” (Hale 2011, 201). Radical refusal often results in inability to meet immediate material needs. In seeking autonomy, CONAMAQ will need to find a balance between fulfilling short-term needs and long term goals.

The organic CONAMAQ has been fighting against the Mining and Metallurgy law 535 passed in May 2014, critiquing its stance on free prior and informed consent, environmental damage, and the right to protest. The law favors the rights of transnational corporations and cooperatives over the interests of indigenous and non-indigenous Bolivians who rely on the land. In order to be considered for prior consultation, a community must have formal certification proving status as a pre-colonial originary indigenous community with territorial claims, that is conserving their nation’s patron culture. Without this formal title, indigenous peoples will have no right to prior consultation (CONAMAQ 2014). Furthermore, it fails to recognize indigenous communities’ right to veto any decision after consultation processes, meaning that consultation is essentially a hollow formality. Finally, the law clarifies a previously unsolved conflict, stating that companies do not need to consult communities before exploration stages of extractive projects. This legalizes the actions of South American Silver and ensures further disturbances and contamination on indigenous territories. The law also fails to recognize sacred spaces as off limits to mining.

Law 535 gives the mining industry the right to use public water for its water-intensive and toxic operation, while disregarding the rights of rural and farming communities to that same water. A leader of CONAMAQ declared, “mining produces contamination, not food, and when the land no longer produces, we have nothing left”

(Interview conducted by Author July 7, 2014). The ruling elite has extracted minerals from Bolivian land for over 500 years, and peasants and indigenous peoples have been left destitute. She told me that if the government had also passed the water and forestry laws that CONAMAQ proposed to protect Pachamama, then they would feel more comfortable preserving the rights of miners on an equal level with the rights of the earth.

However, without any protection, these laws will allow extreme levels of exploitation.

Perhaps most devastating to members of the organic CONAMAQ, the Mining law criminalizes protest against mining operations (Article 99-101). This leaves communities that would bear the brunt of the industry’s pollution and displacement without any right to defend their land. The law penalizes ‘encroachments on miners rights’ with prison sentences between 6 and 8 years for those who block mining activity. The government has made protecting mother earth a crime. In an interview with Ben Dangl, the current leader of CONAMAQ proclaimed the irony in which, “We’re well aware that it was the same Evo Morales who would participate in marches and road blockades [years ago].

And so how is it that he is taking away this right to protest?” (Dangl 2014).

Many members of CONAMAQ have endured hunger strikes and violent government attacks, yet they choose to continue fighting even to the death. For without water, without land, there is no life. Nonetheless, fear is beginning to control members of members of the organic CONAMAQ. In many of my interviews I experienced the fear of constant surveillance. When meeting with members of the organic CONAMAQ, they often whisked me away to their new office or a friend’s nearby home so as not to be

heard by people on the street. When speaking with an ally of CONAMAQ in a café, she abruptly stopped the interview and changed the subject. Minutes later she told me that a government official had been watching us. Many people I spoke with told me about the death threats they or their friends had received. Many of my interlocutors expressed the increasing fear that the government had instilled in them as well as their excitement to share stories with me, as thought letting the words slip off of their tongue and into my mind lifted some kind of burden. As an outsider, I could take these stories away with me without the immediate threat of danger.