APG.
172 Yet, it is important to note that CIDOB’s claims to indigenous autonomy have never demanded independence from Bolivia, unlike the Aymara Kataristas of the 1970s that imagined a separate indigenous nation from the Bolivian state (Albó 1987). Rather, CIDOB has strived for autonomy and self-determination within the borders of the existing nation-state similar to the Zapatistas who have positioned themselves as indigenous autonomous peoples and as Mexican citizens (Hiddleston 2009). This has been a general trend across Latin America where indigenous sovereignty has sought a degree of autonomy from the state but not complete isolation relying on governments for the security of welfare and the implementation of development programmes (Erazo 2013; Escobar 2008; Gustafson 2009b; Warren & Jackson 2003). Demands for self-determination have included: the recognition of respective indigenous institutional forms and decision-making powers; the exercise of legal responsibilities, land and resource rights; the establishment of semi-autonomous regions; and the presence of representative indigenous bodies within national governments (see Diaz Polanco 1997; McNeish & Eversole 2005). In this way, indigenous movements push at the limits of liberal concepts of the nation-state whilst maintaining national territorial boundaries. This echoes James Anaya (2004), the UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, in his verdict that indigenous claims to territory, self-determination and autonomy do not challenge the sovereignty of the nation-state but rather call for recognitions of different understandings of the ‘nation’ within one state. Therefore, indigenous politico-territorial autonomy is more than a demand for the recognition of an aspect of culture or identity, or the protection of ancestral lands, but the recognition of semi-autonomous spaces or territories.
6.2 Multiple Meanings of Ethnicity in an ‘Indigenous State’
New meanings of indigeneity have been articulated with the rise of the MAS. The party has shown a marked ability to subsume heterogeneous identities under an ‘indigenous nationalism’ that crosscuts class and ethnicity (Stefanoni 2006: 37). Morales’ public use of anticolonial heroes such as Túpac Katari has ‘forged a shared historical and territorial narrative and promoted the construction of a collective identity, a partnering of sorts between movements and the state’ (Fabricant 2012: 162). This more inclusive categorisation has resulted in indigenous issues taking centre stage in Bolivian politics (Albro 2005a; Canessa 2006; McNeish 2008). The MAS also monopolised on shifting understandings of indigeneity in Bolivia that resulted in 62 percent, including urban inhabitants, self-identifying as indigenous in the 2001 Census (INE/UMPA 2003). The
173 result showed that indigeneity was no longer coupled with an ability to speak an indigenous language as this accounted for just 49 percent of the population. Canessa has thus concluded that after ‘centuries of contemporary indigenous culture being represented as anachronistic, backward and retarding the progress of the nation, “the indigenous” is now increasingly seen as being iconically national’ (2006: 243).
Yet, Maybury-Lewis contends that ‘indigenous peoples are defined as much by their relations with the state as by any intrinsic characteristics that they may possess’ (2006: 27). The politics of indigeneity employed from the 1970s has been complicated by the fact that the MAS government also makes claims to an indigenous identity. Indeed, Morales only began to articulate claims to a highland ethnic identity in the period of ‘indigenous awakening’ in the early 2000s (Fabricant 2012). In an interview in 2011 Morales even stated that ‘I never considered myself to be the first indigenous president, but the first trade-unionist president’ (Página Siete 2011; author’s translation). Moreover, Canessa (2007b) notes that in the 1990 March for Territory and Dignity the majority of the highland groups participating refused to be identified as indigenous on the grounds that it is an identity based on colonial subjugation preferring the term ‘originarios’. Since Morales’ election the use of the indigenous label – with new meanings attached – has increased within the highlands (Albro 2005a; Canessa 2006, 2007b; McNeish 2008). Through the articulation of a more inclusive urban-based indigeneity as articulated through the MAS political project, ‘indigeneity’ and ‘indigenous issues’, previously marginal to the Bolivian political sphere, have become more mainstream (Albro 2005a; Canessa 2006, 2007b). However, Canessa notes that ‘[i]f much of the politics of indigeneity is about difference and recognising the cultural and other rights of minority groups, Morales’ government is asserting a very different vision of indigeneity; a homogenous national culture for the majority’ (2012a: 15). This restricted framing of an ‘imagined political community’ (Anderson 1991: 6) of the nation acts to negate the world-visions of the historically more marginalised lowland indigenous peoples and reinforces a continual trend of the Andeanization of Bolivia (Albro 2010a; Canessa 2006; Gustafson & Fabricant 2011). Goodale therefore concludes that the MAS has not re-founded the nation-state model to include multiple world-views but ‘[r]ather, they simply demand an expansion of the categories of modern Bolivia, the universalization of the liberal subject, and a commitment to equality of rights’ (2009: 179). Where demands of the lowland indigenous movement are recognised it is within the limited framework of indigenous rights. This can be seen in
174 the Constitution that ‘renders some forms of indigenous identity more “legible” than others’ (Albro 2010a: 72). In particular, Albro notes that the ‘rights-bearing indigenous subject’ is ‘aligned with the state’s “direct and participatory” communitarian identity’ and is therefore separated from the liberal citizen subject (2010a: 72). The authenticity of indigenous peoples relies on their ability to ‘fit’ pre-established rights frameworks through associated characteristics, such as communitarian visions of property, land and resource ownership, collective forms of decision-making and assumptions that indigenous people have a unique relationship to nature and their local environments (see Stefanoni 2013). This polity restricts the political repertoires of ethnic movements to an adherence to state discourse and legislation for fears of being labelled inauthentic and losing the benefits of the rights-bearing indigenous label (Lucero 2006). In this way, the Morales administration has continued the multicultural assimilationist strategies imposed under neoliberal reforms. Relational articulations of indigeneity are made evident in the 2012 Census, which shows a decrease by 21 percent in Bolivian citizens self-identifying as indigenous (INE 2013: 50). Tellingly, in 2001 there was an increasing call for a collective ethnic identity in struggles positioned against the neoliberal state. Conversely, in 2012 Bolivia was under the administration of an indigenous presidency and it was therefore not as politically useful to identify under an indigenous label. Galindo Soza (2013) argues that the MAS are using indigenous identity claims as an alibi for the justification of a centralised power that speaks on behalf of the country’s indigenous peoples whilst favouring certain highland identities. This political strategy, however, carries the risk of opening up explosive ethnic tensions between various groups that differently identify under the indigenous label.88
Shifting articulations of indigeneity have worked to rupture previous alliances between various indigenous and peasant organisations. Stavenhagen observes that ethnic differences may ‘erupt into violence when a state wishes to impose its own vision and attempts to eliminate or minimize the differences amongst the population through authoritarian or arbitrary measures’ (2000: 11). Before the inauguration of Morales the lowland indigenous marches involved differential levels of coordination with highland sectors, such as CSUTCB, depending on the political climate at the time. There have, however, been a
88 Also of note is the fact that the 2001 Census only included the ballot options of identification as Quechua,
Aymara, Guaraní (the three largest indigenous groups) or other, whilst the 2012 census included all 36 indigenous identities identified in the Constitution and the category of Afro-Bolivian. In both cases, there was no option to self-identify as mestizo. However, many people would rather claim an indigenous identity than a European one. In the 2012 census, though, the fact that the categories were more specific may have led to people self-identifying as ‘no pertenecen’ (not belonging) to an indigenous group.
175 number of long lasting tensions between CIDOB and CSUTCB due to different organisational structures and objectives. In particular, CIDOB has demanded territory and shown a willingness to negotiate with the state whilst CSUTCB has demanded political and economic autonomy through antagonistic political repertoires (Canessa 2007b; Gustafson 2002; Lucero 2008). These tensions were heightened during the TIPNIS conflict as CSUTCB have been trying to push through an agrarian reform law that would see land redistributed to smaller producers on an individual ownership basis. In addition, the CSUTCB have argued that that there needs to be a reconsideration of the communal TCO titles granted to indigenous peoples, given the amount of land and resources distributed in these units (Fundación Tierra 2012). At this juncture, it is imperative for the lowland indigenous movement to distinguish themselves from campesino movements in order to legitimate their claims to territory as the ‘true’ indigenous peoples of Bolivia. It is significant, therefore, that the Eighth and Ninth Marches in defence of the TIPNIS did not involve the participation of peasant organisations. The only other indigenous body on the marches was the highland organisation CONAMAQ who similarly adopt a collective action frame centred on politico-territorial autonomy (Gustafson 2002). Stefanoni (2013) notes, however, that these developments have led to dangerous anti-campesino propaganda amongst some activists and academics on the political ‘left’.
6.3 Cultural Politics of Indigeneity: Learning to be an Indian
International legislative frameworks define indigeneity as an identity category bound to ancestral claims to land, intimate relationships with nature, communitarian decision- making and communally owned property. The model of indigenous rights therefore sets the terms and limits by which indigenous peoples are recognised and can make identity claims (Sylvain 2002). These definitions have been criticised by academics and indigenous peoples alike for essentialising cultures, negating people’s agency and grouping different people and nations under a single indigenous label (see Lattas 1993; Smith 1999; Warren & Jackson 2003). Nonetheless, many social movements still utilise the indigenous rights- based framework developed in international forums and the new Constitution to legitimise demands to land and resource sovereignties, greater political participation in the state and territorial autonomy. Indigenous movements are mediated by the international and national climate of legal rights. However, rather than necessarily strengthening the political clout of ethnic movements these frameworks also open them up to challenges regarding their ‘authenticity’ and the legitimacy of their claims (Hames 2007). Warren and Jackson argue
176 that ‘essentialism can be coercively imposed by the state as well as deployed by indigenous groups as a form of resistance to demeaning political imaginaries and policies’ (2003: 8). Lowland indigenous identities are not formed in a political vacuum but counteract government projects of extractive development that jeopardise the livelihoods of indigenous peoples within communally owned territories. Thus, Canessa argues that ‘culture has never existed independent of political frameworks’ (2012b: 3). Comprehending resource conflicts requires an approach that integrates diverse politico- cultural understandings of development, citizenship and national identity (Perreault & Valdivia 2010). The performance of an identity narrative is intimately connected to changing political climates and other forms of identity construction, such as those mobilised by the state. As such, CIDOB has adopted the international language of indigenous rights as an effective discourse to make demands on the state and gain the support of other sectors. Furthermore, the MAS’s ‘rejection of mestizaje as national ideology’ (Canessa 2012a: 17) has opened up new opportunities for contentious political action. For instance, Dangl argues that the 2009 Constitution ‘creates important new political space for the grassroots to flex its muscles’ (2010: 37).
In this section, I examine how the strategic use of indigenous essentialism (see Spivak 1987: 281) authenticates and legitimises the demands of the lowland indigenous movement during the TIPNIS conflict. In this way, the movement engages in a Gramscian ‘war of position’ in which assertions of an ethnic identity are articulated in various ways aimed to bridge collective indigenous concerns to wider sectors of Bolivian society. I evaluate three identity claims: (i) notions of the ecologically noble savage; (ii) communal organisational structures; and (iii) the collective ownership of land and resources. I also consider the ways that these identity categories were renegotiated throughout the conflict.