August 5, 2002

Dear Friends,

Yesterday, Bolivia's congress elected its new president of the republic: Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada. Also known as "Goni." Also known as "the Gringo."

Congress was choosing Bolivia's newest president because no candidate emerged from June 30th's election with a majority. And so they chose between the top two vote-winners: Evo Morales and Sanchez de Lozada.

For months now, friends here have teased me: "How's your uncle Goni doing?" Or praised me: "You have a better accent than Goni!" As a gringa, as a foreigner living in Bolivia, I am a constant target for Gringo Goni jokes. But behind the jokes is a more serious tone.

Sanchez de Lozada got his nickname from his accent, and from his policies. The one-time Bolivian president (1993-1997) and former mining executive grew up in the U.S., studied there, and returned to Bolivia with a notorious gringo (foreign) accent. These days it's become part of his persona: affable, pudgy, neoliberal, always mixing up his verbs or the gender agreement of adjectives.

But the "Gringo" in Goni's persona has become even more pointed since the last days of June, when the U.S. ambassador to Bolivia made a startling statement to this nation as it prepared to vote. Basically:

Do not vote for Evo Morales, or you will face economic sanctions. We'll cut off all aid to your country.

The U.S. ambassador sent a clear message. He told Bolivians for whom they were and were not allowed to vote.

At the time, Evo Morales, an indigenous Aymaran leader famous for his opposition to U.S. drug policy in Bolivia, was trailing well-behind the two most popular candidates. It seemed there was little chance he or the other indigenous candidate, Felipe "Mallku" Quispe, would pose any threat to the reigning political parties and their entrenched leaders.

But in response to the U.S. ambassador's statement, Evo's popularity soared. The embassy has since tried to downplay the statement's role in boosting Evo's popularity, but it's pretty clear. People were enraged at the U.S.

Evo voiced widespread anger toward U.S. drug policy, misguided alternative development programs, and increasing militarism in Bolivia's eastern region, among other issues. But Morales also represented a threatening prospect for Bolivia's wealthy elite, many of European decent. He represented and represents indigenous people gaining voice and political power in a country that has historically excluded them.

Since I arrived in Bolivia, a number of Bolivians have commented on my presence. "It's so good you are here. You can teach these dirty Indians hygiene. They just smell." It's the kind of racist language I always associated with bussing riots and school integration in the United States.

Newly-elected President Goni will have to contend with growing social unrest and spreading condemnation of neoliberal policies, such as the privatization of natural resources. He also faces many questions regarding his dealings with Enron and Shell Oil in a highly questionable gas pipeline project from his first term.

While Evo did not win the congressional vote, he and the unprecedented number of indigenous people who were elected this year may be reshaping Bolivian politics. But Bolivians say they'll wait to see.

I'm hanging on to one last, troubling image: Yesterday I stood in the Plaza Murillo along with thousands of other Bolivians who were awaiting the election's results. Goni supporters wore the party's bright pink. Pink sweaters, pink hats, pink scarves. They triumphantly waved banners and danced—the outcome of the election had pretty much been decided days earlier through a pact made between Goni and one of his staunchest critics.

Goni's supporters occupied the entire plaza, and a protective wall of police in riot gear surrounded them.

Evo supporters stood outside the plaza looking in, denied entry. The military police, armed with tear gas and automatic weapons, effectively shut them out from the public square.

The crowd was mostly Aymara and Quechua, of indigenous decent. They waved the Wipala flag (a checkered, multi-colored flag that has become an icon of the indigenous movement), wore the blue and black of Evo's party. Small groups huddled together, listening intently to handheld radios as, inside, their congressmen and women made impassioned speeches in favor of Morales.

Gazing into the fenced-off plaza, a group gathered on the steps to chant "El pueblo unido jamás será vencido."The people, united, will never be defeated."

Goni supporters formed a conga line and taunted back at the mostly indigenous crowd of Evo supporters: "Go home and bathe. Go home and bathe."