Beyond the Gringo Trail: Finding Lessons in Bolivia’s Political Soap Opera

A Nation of Two Flags, Divided and Defiant

In December 2024, I travelled from Paraguay through northern Argentina to Bolivia, the country renown for the high altitude lake of Titicaca, the other-worldly metropolis of La Paz, the salt planes of the Salar de Uyuni and the inhospitable Altiplano. They are world class wonders, hands down. But this was my third time in Bolivia, and I purposely sidetracked from the gringo trail to local highlights.

Unknowingly, I saved the best (very subjectively) for last: Cochabamba. This city is undeniably cool. Two things immediately stand out: the weather, an eternal spring, and the food, as its famously food-loving inhabitants seem to live to eat. It is surrounded by the Tunari mountains and the centre is marked by the world’s tallest statute of Jesus - Christ of Peace (Cristo de la Concordia). I know what you think – it is indeed slightly higher than the arguably more famous Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro.

But Cochabamba was also where I came face-to-face with the classic political soap opera of Latin America. Until a few days before my arrival, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make it. The reason? Bolivia’s infamous roadblocks, which had turned the city into a fortress, cutting it off from the rest of the country.

How did it come to this? Over its history, Bolivia has seen dramatic political upheavals, far too complex to summarize in a short article. To pick up the thread, Evo Morales became Bolivia’s first indigenous president in 2006. He governed until 2019, during an era marked by socialist policies, nationalization of key industries, and a focus on indigenous rights. His supporters tout his administration’s record of economic growth and poverty reduction, while critics accuse him of focusing on building football fields in impoverished villages and turning a blind eye to clandestine narcotics operations.

In 2019, Morales’ attempt at a fourth term led to allegations of fraud, protests, and his resignation. The interim government (2019–2020) aimed to restore democracy but faced continued unrest. In 2020, Luis Arce of the Movement for Socialism won the presidency, signalling a fragile return to stability. However, his administration has grappled with economic challenges including inflation, stagnant wages, and fuel shortages. I have witnessed kilometres long queues of cars waiting for refuelling at petrol stations. While I was there, exchanging dollars on the black market could fetch a 10–20% premium.

While I’m not enamored with democracy, I’ll concede that it would an improvement on the realities Bolivia has been experiencing.

In October 2024, supporters of Morales staged road blockades in Cochabamba, protesting his potential arrest. These wreaked havoc on the local economy, leading to food and fuel shortages. At one point, a convoy of Morales’ vehicles reportedly clashed with government forces in a shoot-out.

Nevertheless, the blockades were lifted in time for me to enter and learn. Let me offer a sweeping judgement as a passing Euro tourist. Bolivia’s population is a blend of its indigenous peoples, descendants of Spanish conquistadors, and mixed bag of immigrant groups. These communities often differ starkly in social status, culture, and wealth, with few unifying factors beyond the abstract notion of a nation under a flag. Symbolically, the country splits itself even here, having two actual flags: the official national flag and the rainbow-colored indigenous Wiphala.

But such words are plenty and cheap. The deep truth is that while Bolivia’s political instability and economic challenges are real, what stood out to me most was the resilience and disobedience of its people. In Europe, we’ve been domesticated for too long, letting governments fence the pastures smaller and smaller. The Bolivian people remind me of something crucial: whilst the law is meant to protect people from one another, the constitution exists to protect the people from the power of the state. When these principles fail, disobedience is not just a right - it’s a necessity.

Bolivia is not a model to emulate, but perhaps it is a source of inspiration in its refusal to obediently comply when things go wrong.

Post Scriptum: Bolivia’s political telenovela has been unfolding with a surprising twist. I will follow up with an update in the coming days or week. Stay tuned.