In Bolivia, a need for tangible change, not ‘intangible patrimony’
This week—in a move coming shortly after indigenous marchers successfully protested the planned construction of a highway through protected Amazonian territory—Bolivian Culture Minister Elizabeth Salguero declared the traditional ch’uta dance part of the nation’s intangible patrimony. Originating in the Aymara communities in the department of La Paz, the ch’uta is one of the dances performed at Carnaval in the days before Ash Wednesday. The pronouncement from the Morales government came just after over 1,000 indigenous marchers arrived in La Paz lastweek at the end of a 65-day cross-country trek to draw attention to their protest of Morales’s plan to construct a highway through the lowland TIPNIS (Territorio IndÃgena y Parque Nacional Isiboro-Secure—Isiboro-Secure National Park and Indigenous Territory). While the paceña dance represents a different culture than those of the primarily lowland indigenous groups marching, the two events in La Paz over the last weeks highlight part of Morales’s growing credibility problem: lip service to the cultural interests of indigenous groups in Bolivia is not enough for Morales to keep his traditional foundations of support in those communities.
The 2009 constitution, adopted by referendum in January 2009, defines Bolivia as a ‘plurinational’, multicultural state. It includes a number of provisions to safeguard indigenous interests, such as representational quotas in the national assembly, the right for indigenous communities to maintain their own judicial systems, and the right to autonomy for indigenous groups and territories. In addition, the constitution aims to protect cultural expressions of identity, as Salguero emphasized in her statement: ‘Protecting our dances and artistic expressions means safeguarding our patrimony and identity, and this duty is a responsibility of the state, as the Constitution orders’—adding that it was also the duty of all Bolivians to take pride in these cultural expressions as well. The ch’uta joins seven other dances—the Afro-Bolivian saya, the caporal, the morenada, the kullawada, the llamerada, the diablada, and thinku ritual fighting—that were earlier declared intangible cultural patrimony. Alejandro Zapata, who represents Corocoro in the Legislative Assembly, and Jorge Medina, of Caquiaviri, championed the law, using old photographs and costumes from as early as the 1920s to argue for the dance as heritage. (This collaboration came despite earlier controversy in 2010 as rival bills introduced, claiming both Corocoro and Caquiaviri as the birthplace of the dance).
The ch’uta represents a festive, happy character who is always associated with the Carnaval dances. According to Susan Rosales Nelson, the origins of the dance stem from the pre-revolutionary practice of pongueaje, a kind of serfdom for Aymara peasants who had to work on the holdings of wealthy landowners. It is usually performed by couples wearing highly stylized traditional Aymara campesino clothing (jackets and wide-legged pants for men, polleras for women).
That the dance, an expression of a time of extreme oppression of Aymara communities, is now supported by the Assembly and the Morales government as part of the fabric of Bolivian national culture is in indicator of how dramatically the status of indigenous cultures has changed in the 50-odd years since 1952 (and especially since Morales’s election in 2005). However, this comes at a time when Morales is coming under increasing pressure from other indigenous groups who feel that he is not recognizing their material interests. This same week, Morales yielded to pressure from lowland indigenous groups, signing a law prohibiting the construction of a highway his government had planned to build through protected indigenous Amazonian territory. Morales had earlier vowed to build the highway, claiming that it was necessary to promote regional and national integration. Yet his government has floundered in the face of strong regional opposition, as well as charges of police brutality against the marchers. Moreover, earlier this month Morales’s government took another hit when judicial elections held on 16 October resulted in over-50% invalid votes (‘voto nulo’)—ballots were left blank or voters wrote in ‘TIPNIS’ instead. It seems that Morales’s, and the MAS’s, model to ‘mandar obedeciendo’ (lead by following or obeying) is faltering under the weight of different ideas of development and diversity. As regional tensions intensify, it remains to be seen whether the MAS government’s vision of a ‘plurinational’ state will be able to function as one nation. The ideals of cultural patrimony will not be enough to paper over Bolivia’s divisions and the clashing economic and social interests of the many groups that united to bring the MAS to power in 2005.
Otherwise:
The Jalisco-Shanghai book exchange: another sign of strengthened ties between Mexico and China.
DÃa de los Muertos (or Todos Santos) is this week! Look at traditional Bolivian sweet breads decorated with not-so-traditional ‘lucha libre’ masks, make yourself some sugar skulls, Â and whatever you do, listen to this!

