What’s a potosí worth?

13/08/2010

There is fairly ubiquitous Spanish expression used when there’s a need to describe something of great value; it’s said that something is worth a “potosí”. Unlike many other sayings of which the origins remain unknown or debated, in this particular case the etymology is straightforward: tons of silver were once extracted for the Spanish monarchy from its mines, and today foreign companies fill the void.

That the expression isn’t in any way ironic or tongue-in-cheek reveals how little the human cost of this extraction was and is acknowledged, because today to say something is worth a “potosí” would more appropriately be used when describing the complete opposite.

The southwestern department is Bolivia’s poorest. Four out of ten children suffer from malnutrition, infant mortality is at a rate of 101 per thousand births, and the streets of the capital of the same name are filled with Potosians in line for basic provisions. But whereas history has had them begrudgingly accept their subjugation and exploitation, their patience has finally worn out—making the Aymara man in whom they found a sense of hope for indigenous solidarity, now just another disappointment.

Evo Morales’ election in 2005 was argued by some to be the first time an indigenous person was fairly elected as the leader of a Latin American country. Though the veracity of this claim was also disputed by many as a form of populist manipulation, its accuracy is less relevant when you compare Morales to his fellow leaders in the region: a coca growers union leader, a man who didn’t graduate from high school, a bachelor who eschews traditional presidential attire, his features that remind the world Bolivia was and still is a predominantly indigenous country, and most significantly— his promises to create a more equitable situation for that majority.

He kept these promises with his 2009 referendum victory, which among many other changes allowed 36 indigenous groups the right to claim territory, language rights, a form of community justice, and limit the size of landholdings.

It was predictably rejected by the eastern departments (Pando, Beni, Santa Cruz, Tarija) known as the media luna (half moon) in which the high concentration of white and mestizo populations have virulently opposed any encroachment on their autonomy—essentially a combination of sharing their massive reserves of natural gas and an inherited superiority complex. If you want to see an example of the latter, I suggest watching a documentary called “Bolivian Voices”. Though it’s been a while since I last saw it, I still vividly remember a white Bolivian hurling racist epithets at Evo in Santa Cruz. This was prior to his election—making subsequent unrest there an obvious development.

That this current crisis would unfold in one of the western departments, and one as historically symbolic as Potosí, has to be disheartening for Morales and his MAS (Movimiento Al Socialismo) party. Access to the city of Potosí has been blocked and many—including Governor Felix Gonzalez, himself a member of MAS— are carrying out public hunger strikes, all in order to force the government to respond to their six demands.

These demands include resolving a border dispute with the neighboring Oruro department over land rich in limestone, connected to which is a demand for a cement factory, the preservation of the Cerro Rico—which mining activity has destroyed, the construction of a multiple metals mining complex in Karachipampa, and an international airport.

In other words, they want investment in the region.

Just yesterday, mining companies Glencore International AG and Coeur d’Alene Mines Corp. suspended operations, which in addition to Sumitomo Corp. closing the world’s third largest silver mine at San Cristobal, has put Morales in unfamiliar territory. At the moment President Morales is aloof and his Minister of Autonomy, Carlos Romero, is trying to explain the government’s predicament: “if someone summons you and awaits your arrival with a club, there aren’t conditions for dialogue.”

As a department that’s been exploited for centuries awaits resolution to a conflict with one of their own, they do so with the sadness typical of internecine disputes. Poor, indigenous Bolivians elected a man who stood with them in opposition to the privatization and resulting privation of their water supply, who marched with them in the 2005 gas conflict, who won them revolutionary, constitutionally enshrined rights, but who when given the opportunity to lead them, has shown that populism is no panacea; because when it’s used to inspire, the corresponding expectations can all too easily turn into burdens, with locals constantly reminded that a “potosí” doesn’t seem to be worth all that much these days.