Confounding Cultural Citizenship and Constitutional Reform in Bolivia

Confounding Cultural Citizenship and Constitutional Reform in BoliviaAuthor(s): Robert AlbroSource: Latin American Perspectives, Vol. 37, No. 3, BOLIVIA UNDER MORALES. Part 1.CONSOLIDATING POWER, INITIATING DECOLONIZATION (May 2010), pp. 71-90Published by: Sage Publications, Inc.Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25700517 .

Accessed: 03/06/2014 11:43

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

Sage Publications, Inc. is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Latin AmericanPerspectives.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 198.91.32.137 on Tue, 3 Jun 2014 11:43:11 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=sage

http://www.jstor.org/stable/25700517?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


Confounding Cultural Citizenship and Constitutional Reform in Bolivia

by Robert Albro

The Bolivian constitution ratified in January 2009 has been hailed as a watershed in the effort to empower the indigenous majority. However, in addition to an entrenched

political opposition in the lowland half of the country, some observers have pointed to the constitution's JAymara-centric" character, suggesting that it has left some people unrec

ognized and unrepresented. Examination of associational life in the urban provincial capital of Quillacollo, where what it means to be indigenous is quite different from that which the constitution valorizes and confirms, helps of clarify the challenges of multicul tural or plurinational legal reforms based upon cultural citizenship. A central challenge is that of transcending a conception of legal rights and claims inhering in citizenship as

mutually exclusively either individual or collective.

Keywords: Indigenous rights, Cultural citizenship, Constitution, Political participation, Associational politics

Bolivia's new constitution, ratified in January 2009, is for now the culmina tion of a long process in this country to shape the postcolonial terms of politi cal participation, which has been historically defined by the profound

marginalization of its indigenous and popular majority. Most recently, this

struggle was carried forward by diverse indigenous and popular movements in the early 2000s, with their call for a constitutional referendum, which

became, in turn, a central plank in the successful candidacy of Evo Morales for the presidency. Once in office in 2006, Morales and his Movimiento al Socialismo (Movement Toward Socialism?MAS) undertook a grueling refer endum punctuated by factional politics, bad-faith negotiations, and recurring

Robert Albro is an assistant professor of international communication in the School of Inter

national Service at American University and the author of Roosters at Midnight: Indigenous Signs and Stigma in Local Bolivian Politics (2010). He thanks Ben Kohl for inviting him to participate in this forum. Earlier drafts of this article were presented both at the conference "Decolonizing the Nation, (Re) Imagining the City: Indigenous Peoples Mapping New Political Terrain," orga nized by the Program for Latin American and Caribbean Studies at Northwestern University (May 8-9, 2008), and at the conference "Contesting Liberal Citizenship: New Debates on

Alternative Forms of Democracy and State Power in Latin America" at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem's Institute for Advanced Studies (July 6-9, 2009). The author also thanks Niki Fabricant, Mario Sznajder, and Luis Roniger for their invitations and Carlos Forment, Rodolfo

Stavenhagen, Laurence Whitehead, Carlos de la Torre, Leon Zamosc, Deborah Yashar, Ben Kohl, and Rosalind Bresnahan for their helpful feedback on the present manuscript. Ethnographic research in Bolivia for the article was carried out throughout 1993-1995 and during return visits in 2001 and 2003 with the support of a Fulbright, the National Science Foundation, and a faculty research grant from Wheaton College in Massachusetts.

LATIN AMERICAN PERSPECTIVES, Issue 172, Vol. 37 No. 3, May 2010 71-90 DOI: 10.1177/0094582X10364034 ? 2010 Latin American Perspectives

71



72 LATIN AMERICAN PERSPECTIVES

conflict throughout 2007-2008 (see AIN, 2007; 2009; Molina, 2008), especially in the Department of Santa Cruz, which at times violently came out against the referendum. And yet, upon the hard-fought passage of the new constitu

tion, Morales victoriously declared, "Here begins the new Bolivia" (quoted in

Taylor, 2009). But what is this "new Bolivia"? If the constitution is to be the primary legal

and political instrument of this new beginning, what sort of Bolivian society it assumes becomes a central question. The international media, reporting from near and far, were pretty sure they knew: the new constitution embraced and incorporated basic indigenous values (Buxton, 2009), it granted extensive

indigenous rights (Bevins, 2009; Van Schaick, 2009), and it was a watershed in the effort to empower the indigenous majority (Carroll, 2009; Keane, 2009;

Miller Liana, 2009). The extent of the historical transformation represented by Bolivia's radically multicultural constitution, in fact, should not be dismissed.

It represents a landmark in the effort to decolonize public administration in

this country. This past year's December 6 general elections were also a strong endorsement at the ballot box for the policies of Evo Morales and the MAS, with the highly popular incumbent president winning another term of office in a landslide.1 In his first address after the elections, Morales promised both

to "accelerate" and to "deepen" the change now under way in Bolivia (Los

Tiempos, December 5, 2009). He certainly has the mandate to follow through on the vision of Bolivian society enshrined in the new constitution.

However, beyond entrenched political opposition to Morales in the low

land half of the country, a smattering of voices has made a different, if compa rable, point about how the constitution enacts its agenda of indigenous rights.2

Although raised in different ways, the common thread of these critiques is that Morales and the MAS are "not governing for all Bolivians." While

acknowledging the constitution's historic status, some Bolivian political ana

lysts have nevertheless noted its "Aymara-centric" character. The "refounding of Bolivia," observed one political scientist, is being carried out from an "ethno

Aymara indigenous perspective." As Carlos Toranzo Roca, a Bolivian political economist and long-time observer of Bolivian cultural politics, noted, the new

constitution exhibits the "paradox of the new exclusions."3 What Toranzo

Roca and others are pointing to is the possibility that the new constitution, historic or not, has perhaps left some people out of the mix, unrecognized and

thus unrepresented. Here I take up this possibility by exploring some implications of the consti

tution's unprecedented plurinational cultural script for the empowerment of

Bolivia's majority indigenous population from the vantage point of the urban

politics of the provincial capital of Quillacollo, where the experience of indi

geneity is quite different from that which the constitution valorizes and con

firms. How "being indigenous" matters in Quillacollo is a kind of experience that is largely outside the constitution's purview. Composed of 411 articles, the constitution attempts to leave no stone unturned in the comprehensive decolonization of Bolivia's indigenous majority. Nevertheless, borrowing from James Scott (1998), in this article I explore how it renders some forms of

indigenous identity more "legible" than others. For Scott (1998: 79), legibility refers to the efforts of statecraft to synoptically map its terrain and its people. And state efforts to standardize legal language and to consolidate particular



Albro / CULTURAL CITIZENSHIP AND REFORM 73

citizenship rights are among the most important ways that states keep track

of their subjects. As explored here for the case of Quillacollo, however, state

driven processes of legibility, no matter how well-intentioned, inevitably involve choices among codified simplifications?legal descriptions?that are potentially destructive of certain kinds of local knowledge or ways of

being indigenous.

Legibility, in Scott's sense, is part and parcel of what Antonio Negri (2009) has called "constituent power," which refers to the democratic force of revo

lutionary innovation, in this case, the constitutional norms that compose Bolivia's new juridical framework. But, as Rodriguez Veltze (2008: 146) has

lately observed regarding the development of constituent power in Bolivia, it

does not necessarily reflect the "complex diversity of the state and the actors

within it." Instead, the constitutional process leaves inchoate and illegible an

emerging urban and indigenous political and cultural engagement in provincial Cochabamba?long considered historically mostly devoid of indigenous peoples?while at the same time legally privileging a more nationally and

internationally celebrated largely Aymara-derived collective indigenous sub

ject. The difficulties for Bolivia's constituent power in coming to terms with the emergent variations of indigenous experience point, in turn, to the chal

lenges faced by efforts to enact multicultural or plurinational legal reforms, in

Latin America as well as elsewhere, in terms of cultural citizenship. These

challenges include the limits of cultural citizenship as an enfranchising renova tion that is assumed to deepen democratic participation in culturally plural states like Bolivia, limits indicated by the difficulties in balancing individual civil rights with collective cultural rights.

FROM CITIZENSHIP TO CULTURAL CITIZENSHIP

Evelina Dagnino has noted that in the past two decades "the notion of citi

zenship has become increasingly recurrent in the political vocabulary of Latin America" (2003: 211). "Citizenship" has also become the subject of an opening up to include new subjects. By "cultural citizenship" I mean the invention or creation of new rights from the struggles and identity politics of social move

ments and ethnic minorities as these are expressly connected to the recogni tion of cultural difference and a call for cultural rights (e.g., Alvarez, Dagnino, and Escobar, 1998). The concept of cultural citizenship is intended to create

greater public space for largely marginalized and often invisible communities. William V. Flores (1997: 1-23) emphasizes the importance of expanding indi vidualist definitions of liberal citizenship to recognize the everyday practices, civic participation, cultural resources, and other contributions of marginal communities such as Latinos in the United States. In this way, an inculturation of the citizenship concept is understood to promote community building, to

help communities establish distinct social spaces and to claim political mem

bership and rights as active agents (see also Benhabib, 2002; Garcia Canclini, 2001; Stevenson, 2003).

For Flores, cultural citizenship effectively recognizes the collective experi ence of Latinos in the United States. Considering liberal multicultural states like Canada, Will Kymlicka (1996) takes a different tack. He emphasizes that




if liberal state multiculturalism should go the extra mile toward more fully recognizing "culture" as a necessary component of citizenship, the main rea son for this should be to ensure that members of minority groups enjoy the fullest "context of choice." In short, the state's recognition of cultural identity in the Kymlicka calculus is to ensure individuals' freedoms. Deborah Yashar

(2005: 285), however, has underscored the importance to countries with large indigenous populations of institutionalizing a "more differentiated set of citi

zenship regimes that can accommodate the claims of the individual alongside the claims of the collective." In fact, diverse efforts to "bridge" collective and individual rights for multicultural citizenship have been a central challenge for states in recognizing indigenous peoples in particular (e.g., Holder and

Corntassel, 2002). To different ends and from different points of departure, discussions of

cultural citizenship have continued to be about how best to traverse the

individual-collective divide. Bolivia's new constitution also walks this divide,

assuming an alignment of corporate frames of collective deliberation with a

unitary cultural identity as a condition for the recognition of the "indigenous." In so doing, it empties out the meanings and crosscurrents of "collective" and

"individual" as these inform everyday indigenous and political work in urban

spaces such as Quillacollo, turning them into antinomian place-holders for more complex subject positions. The specifically urban indigenous locations,

engagements, and commitments typical of Quillacollo?not easily divided

along the fault line of individual liberal citizenship and collective cultural

citizenship?are in fact displaced from the legal inscription of the constitution.

The case of Quillacollo helps us to focus on the challenges of reconciling cul

tural difference with liberal democracy and the fact that attempts at such

reconciliation foreground some kinds of political experience while causing others to disappear (see Paley, 2008).

CHANGING CITIZENSHIP REGIMES

Far from a static founding document, Bolivia's constitution has always been a work in progress. Since the first constitution was enacted in 1826, Bolivia

has had 17 of them. The history of citizenship in Bolivia has likewise been

dynamic, with successive expansions of citizenship rights being a principal feature of consecutive national projects dedicated to the reinvention of the

country. The 1952 Revolution was one democratic watershed, advancing the

recognition of indigenous people as fellow citizens (though not as "indige nous" but as "campesinos," or small-scale agriculturalists) and asserting their

right to the vote, to education, and to land, as well as other individual civil

and political rights. This process was accompanied by a project of consolidation of Bolivia's

identity in which class, ethnic, and regional distinctions were to be brought

together under the umbrella of an integrationist mestizo nationalism.4 The ide

ology of mestizaje?the mixture of indigenous with nonindigenous?was

paired with the extension of individual citizenship rights to newly designated campesinos who, it was imagined, would set aside their collective cultural

investments in keeping with the expectations of modernity. But this also




ensured that "the 1952 state deprived people of their originario identity" (Albo, 2008: 21). And while the 1952 state is often associated with key extensions of

citizenship, it has nevertheless been viewed as an "uncompleted revolution"

(Malloy, 1970), since its promises dissipated with the years of dictatorship that followed on its heels. It has further been noted that it failed to transcend the

pervasive facts of "internal colonialism" (Rivera, 1993)?the ongoing struggle between liberal and indigenous cultural and political arrangements. These cultural distinctions continued to matter in the everyday lives of Bolivians.

The neoliberal democratic era of the mid-1990s produced further transfor mations in the meaning and extent of citizenship rights. Complementing the

neoliberal restructuring begun in 1985, the Bolivian constitution was again reformed, policies of decentralization put in place, and a "new citizenship regime" implemented (Kohl and Farthing, 2006: 88-98). In a move away from the mestizo assimilationist commitments of the 1952 state, and inspired by the

adoption of International Labor Organization Convention 169, the 1994 con

stitution described the state as "multicultural and pluriethnic." For the first time Article 171 of the constitution also formally recognized the social, eco

nomic, and cultural rights of the country's indigenous peoples, including the

legal recognition of the "traditional authorities of indigenous and campesino communities" (Kohl and Farthing, 2006: 91). These reforms set the stage for the wholesale overhaul that became the constitution of 2009.

The 1994 Popular Participation Law further changed the social and cultural

landscape of citizenship in Bolivia. The several effects of this law have been discussed in some detail (e.g., Albo, 2002; Gustafson, 2002: 279-281; Kohl and

Farthing, 2006:125-148; Laurie, Andolina, and Radcliffe, 2002; Medeiros, 2001; Perreault, 2005: 273; Postero, 2007). Having discussed many of its details (Albro, 2006a; 392-394; 2006b: 414-416; 2009: 155-159), here I will note only those characteristics most pertinent to the present discussion. The law for

mally recognized the wide variety of "traditional" local or grassroots associa

tions, including neighborhood committees, agrarian unions, and indigenous ayllus,5 while identifying and equating them all as "territorial base organi zations." Indigenous and popular representatives of these organizations could, further, serve as members of a committee overseeing the work of the

municipal government or run for local office themselves. These new legal frameworks were notable reversals of the policies of the 1952 state in that they offered legal recognition to an array of collective cultural identities assumed to be located in local and corporate forms of social and political organization.

The 1990s multicultural legal framework, in short, granted legal recognition and political significance to what I shall call Bolivia's local associational life.6

By this I mean collective forms of both political and cultural organization between the state and the individual that are characterized by formal and informal horizontal ties, criteria for membership, generalized norms of trust and reciprocity, the expectation of cooperation, and collective governance and are often equated with so-called civil society. Associational life is a critical

point of reference for this discussion for several reasons: (1) It has been the

subject of successive state reform projects (in 1952, 1994, and 2009). (2) It has been a major protagonist of the social-movement ferment of the years from 2000 to the present.7 (3) It constitutes the setting for what Sian Lazar (2008: 3) calls "everyday practices and experiences of citizenship." (4) It has been a




primary source among both academics and activists alike for imagining indig enous cultural autonomy and community. The legal, policy, academic, and

advocacy commitment to understanding indigenous identity as expressed mainly or only by way of such associational life (e.g., the precolonial ayllu) has important consequences for recognizing the full range of contemporary

indigenous experience.

IMAGINED AUTONOMIES

This, then, is the immediate background against which the 2009 constitu

tion has translated and represented regular demands by popular and indige nous protesters during the years 2000 to 2005 for greater "autonomy." The

question of autonomy has been a flash point in a variety of ways across the

Bolivian political landscape. In May 2008 the Department of Santa Cruz held an "autonomy referendum," calling for greater regional control of water, land, and gas. The vote was judged to be both unconstitutional and illegal by the Bolivian government as a separatist expression of opposition among the

region's political and economic elites to the approval of the then-draft consti

tution (see Dangl, 2008). The Santa Cruz call for autonomy nevertheless

appropriated a call for autonomy and self-determination that has been a cen

terpiece of multiple indigenous movements in Bolivia for some time.

Aymara Kataristas of the 1970s emphasized self-determination for a distinct

"indigenous nation" separate from a plurinational Bolivian state (Albo, 1987:

408). And, as Lucero (2008: 81) reminds us, Katarista-style "Indian national

ism" in Bolivia has more precisely meant "Aymara nationalism." The lowland

to-highland 1990 March for Territory and Dignity, in its turn, called for autonomous indigenous control over indigenous people's own territory (Albo, 1996; Healy, 2001: 361-395). Throughout the late 1980s and 1990s, the cocaleros (coca growers) of the Chapare linked a continuous fight for local

union autonomy with the themes of national sovereignty and a distinct

autochthonous culture in defense of the coca leaf in the context of the U.S. war

on drugs (see Healy, 1991). At the outset of the popular and indigenous protest of 2000, the leader of the Confederation Sindical Unica de Trabajadores

Campesinos de Bolivia (United Confederation of Rural Bolivian Workers?

CSUTCB) Felipe Quispe pushed for an "Indian law" that would grant "indigenous control over land reform, distribution of titles, and territories"

(Gustafson, 2002: 287). The often separatist goals of autonomy have been con

ceived over the decades as at once cultural, territorial, and legal.

During the 1970s-1990s, activist Aymara scholars and historians promoted the continuities of long-term "cultural memory" and the reconstitution of the

ayllu as the prototypical precolonial Andean expression of political, economic, and cultural or social organization (e.g., Albo, 1985; Mamani Condori, 1991;

Rivera, 1984; Ticona, 2000). Repeated calls to "reconstitute the ayllu" referred

not so much to any particular ayllu somewhere as to a primarily Aymara

political project of reimagining the "Aymara people" (pueblo Aymara) as dis tinct from the Bolivian state (see Albro, 2006a; Ari Chachaki, 2001). In this effort, writing about the ayllu in its several features and as a postcolonial rem

nant was at once an ethnohistorical political-identity project, an Andeanist




variation on the Latin American tradition of the "community study," and a

kind of salvage ethnography (see Orta, 2001; Stephenson, 2002; Weismantel, 2006). In critical ways, if not always explicitly, the revitalized ayllu was an

"activist ayllu"?a project of indigenous and nonindigenous academics, poli ticians, and policy makers who shared the assumption of the historical

relatedness of Aymara community as a collective "indigenous counterpublic"

(Stephenson, 2002) distinct from the Bolivian state and from the neoliberal

regime it pursued beginning in 1985. The narrative of long-term memory (as it informs the social form of the

ayllu) has been reprised in many international accounts of the mobilization of

protest in Bolivia during the years 2000-2005. Despite the fact that the protests first erupted in Cochabamba, the story of this period most often has been told

through exclusive attention to events in El Alto during 2003 and 2005. El Alto

has been described as the epicenter of protest and as Latin America's fast

growing indigenous capital, and the protest movements there have been char

acterized as articulating specifically indigenous grievances in ways consistent with the Aymara cosmovision (see Hylton and Thomson, 2007). Through the

period of protest and into the Morales era, the collective Aymara experience has in many cases continued to define indigenous identity in Bolivia as a whole, often to the detriment of a growing diversity of kinds of indigenous experience.

THE DOUBLE DEMANDS OF ASSOCIATIONAL LIFE?

The years between 2000 and 2008 saw a sea change in national Bolivian

politics. Indigenous-popular grassroots movements, largely organized through membership and participation in mostly urban base organizations, forced the

government to change policies or to renege on international agreements with

respect to water, gas, and taxation, forced out one president, carried Aymara Indian Evo Morales to the presidency, and supported the constitutional refer endum process to its conclusion (see Albro, 2005b; 2006a; 2006b; Dangl, 2007; Postero, 2005). Lazar (2008), in particular, has explored the ways in which

Aymara urban in-migrants to El Alto were mobilized through their active and

political participation in gremios (trade unions) and in juntas vecinales (neigh borhood associations). The subject of Lazar's ethnography is not a territory based rural indigenous group. Lazar is clear that she is concerned with a

growing urban indigenous sector that is politically organized through local associational life ("union life") and employs Andean cultural discourse and

practices as a way of asserting claims to the national political space in terms of indigenous rights.

In particular Lazar emphasizes, as I have here, the evident tensions and occasional contradictions between individual and collective political behavior, but with some notable differences. In the mid-1980s, writing about ayllu-like comunidades indxgenas, the Jesuit anthropologist Xavier Albo (1985) described

what he identified as the "Aymara paradox" of factionalism created by recur rent tension among "communitarian" and "individualist" forms of political participation. On the one hand, he noted a collective resistance to cultural

disintegration. On the other, he emphasized an internal factionalism evident across familial, religious, and political arenas. For Albo, the communitarian




trend was illustrated by an "Aymara democracy" of rotating offices (cargos),8 while the individualist aspect was expressed through desconfianza (lack of

trust), envy, and mutual antagonisms, as well as chronic political factionalism, introduced and exacerbated by the pressures of the surrounding urban world. While Albo emphasized that both aspects were found across Aymara cul

tural, economic, religious, and political life, he suggested that individualist

expressions were also provoked by surrounding extraindigenous sources.

Lazar (2008:15), too, focuses her attention on tensions between collective and individual political agency in describing what she calls "cholo citizenship"9? political participation by largely urbanized people of indigenous heritage. She points to an interplay between individualized "liberal" and "collective"

political values in the "maintenance of collective political agency" (19) that was decisive in the social-movement activism in El Alto of 2003-2005. On the one hand is collective mobilization and on the other the self-interested behav ior of the leaders of base organizations as at once a foil for expressions of the

collective ideal, hierarchical, and neoliberal?that is, as nonindigenous. The indigenous-collective/liberal-individual fault line running through the

work of Lazar and Albo is perhaps most developed by Silvia Rivera (1990), who has emphasized the imposed colonial facts of the Bolivian state's ongoing project by contrasting "liberal democracy," as represented by post-1952 agrar ian unions (sindicatos) with an "ayllu democracy" celebrating the alternative

democracy of reciprocal obligations characteristic of the indigenous Andean

ayllu. She closely aligns this democracy with the community-based direct

democracy typified by rotating obligations of service, extensive consultation,

community consensus, and equitable distribution of resources (1990:102-103). She contrasts it with the union's liberal understanding of the individual as

proprietary, its use of the individual vote, its promotion of the consolidation

of property rights, its accumulation of individual authority, and its embrace of the logic of the commodity. Union politics, for Rivera and others, is an impor tant means for the social reproduction of the "the asymmetric dualism of

colonial society" (Albo, 2008: 18). Despite offering accounts of factional poli tics at the heart of local associational life, each ethnographer grants primacy to a face-to-face and collective political agency in local associational settings described as characteristically indigenous.

BOLIVIA'S 2009 CONSTITUTION

That was then, however. Now, since late 2009, many indigenous rights have

been formally incorporated into Bolivia's new constitution. Very briefly, the

constitution's Article 1 takes the unusual step of redefining the Bolivian state as

"plurinational" and "communitarian" (Repiiblica de Bolivia, 2009). Starting with Article 2, it also regularly distinguishes indigenous rights from other

rights by attaching them to a new unitary subject described as the pueblos indi

gena originario campesinos (engineering a unity in diversity among the various

designators of collective indigenous identity in Bolivia). And it confirms the

fact of what it calls "indigenous, first-people, peasant autonomy" (autonomia

indtgena originaria campesino) in multiple articles,10 equating autonomy with

self-governance, with the right to culture. It goes on to assert a wide variety of




specific cultural rights for indigenous peoples?recognizing the 36 indigenous

languages as official languages of the state (Article 5), describing the "moral ethical" basis of Bolivia's plural society as resting on indigenous cosmological

principles such as "to live well" (Article 8), and formally embracing a "demo

cratic participatory, representative and communitarian" mode of government

inspired by indigenous communities (Article 11, Article 26[3]), as well as indig enous "cultural self-determination" (Article 21 [1]).

Bolivia's constitution takes its cue from the 2007 UN Declaration on the

Rights of Indigenous Peoples. As George Gray Molina (2009: 1) notes, "The new constitution recognizes explicit collective group rights for indigenous communities," and by doing so it also defines what counts as indigenous

identity, most clearly in Article 30 (1) (my translation): "The nation and pueblo of indigenous, first peoples, and campesinos comprise all collective humanity who share a cultural identity, language, historical tradition, institutions, ter

ritoriality, and cosmovision and whose existence is anterior to the Spanish colonial invasion." We should note the emphasis here upon clear criteria

for indigenous identity as a separate collective category with distinct rights.

Throughout the constitution's 411 articles, it is this historically composite

rights-bearing indigenous subject that is aligned with the state's "direct and

participatory" communitarian identity, which in Article 11 includes the refer

endum, the deliberative processes of the assembly and cabildo (public or union

meeting), and other established culturally specific communitarian processes for designating political authorities among indigenous groups?all as distin

guished from the individual vote, the vote of the individual liberal citizen or, as Seyla Benhabib (2002: 132) has aptly put it, the "vision of the individual as a self-interpreting being." While a broad variety of individual rights is spelled out in the constitution

in Articles 15-29 and elsewhere, Articles 30-32 identify distinct indigenous rights. Throughout the constitution collective indigenous political, economic,

social, cultural, and territorial rights are spelled out in detail, establishing a legal framework for the "autonomy" of the "communitarian democracy" of Bolivia's indigenous people. The new constitution offers the option for pri marily indigenous municipalities to turn themselves into "indigenous autono mies" (Articles 289-296) with their own forms of leadership, decision making, institutions, and justice. It installs a radical account of collective indigenous identity, while it traverses the fault lines of individual /collective rights in the discrimination of cultural from other rights. And, as we have seen, this is con sistent with the ways in which cultural rights are differentiated from ordinary rights and obligations among liberal multicultural theorists of citizenship.

There has been, in short, a persistent investment in descriptions of indige nous politics that discriminate among kinds of local associational life as more or less indigenous and as more or less authentic or imposed. Academic and

policy arguments over the terms of indigenous participation have for the most

part been characterized as a set of cultural alternatives. Citizenship, according to this set of arrangements, is the extraindigenous linchpin of hybrid compro

mises between the state and indigenous peoples that are collectively under stood to undermine the autonomy of indigenous political organization. "Indigenous citizenship," to use Nancy Postero's (2007) term, is treated by the state not as an abstract principle of equivalence but as historically exceptional




and as turning on tensions between individual and collective rights, efforts to

resolve them, and legal membership in variously defined indigenous com

munities. These circumstances follow from what has been, not just in Bolivia but in the hemisphere as a whole, the prevailing liberal and multicultural democratic solution to the recognition of indigenous rights: the resolution of the "double demand" (Albo, 2008: 30) on the part of indigenous peoples to be first-class citizens as individuals but also to enjoy specific collective rights before the state.

Bolivia's new constitution has legally enshrined this double demand in the terms of systematic legal distinctions tracked across the fault line of individual

and collective rights. Cultural citizenship in Bolivia is collective and based upon the claims of ethnicity. Elsewhere I have considered who now counts as

indigenous in the political and legislative calculus of Evo Morales and the MAS party (Albro, 2008), emphasizing that the new constitution has unin

tentionally created a challenge for the recognition of cultural identity by dis

counting the "plural popular" as a pervasive, urban, and cooperative but also

indigenous political experience. In effect the constitution may make it harder

for Bolivia's political process to recognize a plurality of voices?a plurality that was a motor of transformational change during the years 2000 to 2005.

Important to this consideration is the benign neglect of perhaps the most

important and rapidly emergent everyday engagement of indigenous people, that of urban living. To be indigenous in Bolivia is increasingly to live in a city (see Albro, 2009; 2010; Gill, 2000; Goodale, 2006; Goldstein, 2004; Lazar, 2008), and this has had important consequences for the way indigenous identity is

constructed and comes to matter in political terms.

QUILLACOLLO'S ASSOCIATIONAL POLITICS

Since the 1970s, the goals of Bolivia's diverse indigenous currents have

been increasingly closely connected with those of the growing transnational

indigenous movement across Latin America, including self-determination,

self-governance as collective entities, recognition of cultural distinctiveness, territorial rights, and economic self-development (Brysk, 2000: 59-64; Van

Cott, 2001; Warren and Jackson, 2002: 7). As I have argued elsewhere (Albro, 2005b: 445-448), however, the emergence of Morales and the MAS in Bolivia

is in large part owed to its successful articulation of national and international

notions of cultural, class, indigenous, and national autonomy and sovereignty in building a heterogeneous coalition of overlapping political interests and

agencies under the umbrella of "indigenous rights" rather than reimagining an Aymara world apart. I have summarized this as the agency of the "plural

popular" (Albro, 2005a), and instead of insisting upon the fault lines among indigenous and nonindigenous forms of political agency it recognizes their

overlap and thoroughgoing engagement with each other across a variety of

common efforts. Indigenous politics, in short, have shared a discourse and

practice with a variety of other political movements, particularly with that of

the industrial proletarian miners, themselves once removed from a largely rural life in highland campesino communities. June Nash (1993) has pene

tratingly explored the mutually enabling complementarities between the




Trotskyite discourse of miners working in the Siglo XX mine and the expres sive terms of an Andean cosmovision. She has shown that the unionism of the

mines and Andean popular cultural expressive ritual combined, rather than

conflicted, to create a uniquely mobilizing political environment for the min ers as a vanguard of the workers' movement throughout Latin America up

through the structural adjustment of 1985.

This is attentive to what Carlos Toranzo Roca (2008) has referred to as

Bolivia's "multiple mestizajes." Toranzo Roca is encouraging us to recognize that mestizaje, or the "mixture of different types of cholo" (2008: 50), is a plu ral and not a singular fact. Bolivia is now far removed from the assimilationist

experience of 1952-era cultural mestizaje. Toranzo Roca's account is compa rable to that of Marisol de la Cadena (2000) for Peru. Through her examination

of "indigenous mestizos" from Cuzco, de la Cadena shows how, historically, the rhetoric of mestizaje has been used as a basis for empowering indigenous interventions. As she observes, indigenous culture "exceeds the scope of

Indianness" (2001: 20). Indigenous political expression is here not simply identifiable in varieties of postcolonial imposition but inseparable from the local forms of political association and post-popular-participation base orga nizations in which both indigenous and nonindigenous people are active. In

Quillacollo this "cholo citizenship" is located in urban associational life and

activated through its engagements, negotiations, and network building as an

experience of mestizaje out of which claims of indigenous heritage and rights may emerge.11

Quillacollo, where I conducted two years of fieldwork in the mid-1990s and have returned several times, has a rich associational life, including neighbor hood committees, trade unions, factory unions, and agrarian unions, among other base organizations. While less celebrated than El Alto, Quillacollo has been a politically active urban provincial seat. In the 1950s and early 1960s it was the base of operations of a campesino "superstate" controlled by a caci

que client of national party politicians (Dandier, 1971; Gordillo, 2000). From the late 1970s through the mid-1980s local politics were dominated by the Sindicato Manaco, the union of what was once the country's largest factory complex. In the late 1980s and 1990s the province became a stronghold of the

populist Unidad Civica Solidaridad (Civic Solidarity Unity?UCS), founded by a member of Bolivia's so-called cholo bourgeoisie, the beer baron Max Fernandez (Mayorga, 1991, 2002; Toranzo Roca, 2008), who was born in

Quillacollo. And finally, Oscar Olivera, the public face of the 2000 water war in Cochabamba (see Albro, 2005a), was at the same time the secretary general of the Manaco union. Throughout the years from 2000 to 2005, Quillacollo

regularly mobilized with protest marches and blockades. In conspicuous contrast to El Alto, however, Quillacollo has historically not

been identified as an urban concentration of in-migrating indigenous peoples actively claiming their rights and more direct participation in national gover nance. Instead, it is considered a bastion of mestizaje. Nevertheless, as I have

explored in depth elsewhere (Albro, 2010), local associational life is the scene of everyday kinds of political rapprochement in ways both small and large among participating and diverse popular social sectors. Close and effective working relationships are facilitated in part by people's shared reference to the cultural and personal category of being of "humble origins" (de origen humilde), which




encompasses an indigenous heritage that many in Quillacollo do not deny. In

the hands of regional cultural activists, to be of humble origins is to celebrate

the often still stigmatized cholo, the urban and more indigenous product of the mixture. But this is not a unitary cultural category to be inhabited. The term

"humble origins" references class and culture in a way that accommodates a

shared urban but still indigenous patrimony without privileging it in particular ways or even in the same ways. It represents the increasing reality of the cul tural diversification of mestizaje in Bolivia, which does not preclude Quechua or Aymara ethnicity and can include an indigenista discourse. To claim "humble

origins" or to be associated with them by others, then, is to inhabit Andean

cultural worlds as a location from which to articulate political goals and claims

but in a flexibly collaborative and extensive mode with respect to other social sectors in ways neither necessarily collective nor unitary.12

This relationship to indigenous identity?as flexibly expansive?has been a

key to the cross-sector popularity of Evo Morales and the MAS (see Albro,

2006b), as well as a critical ingredient of the broad-based public support the MAS has enjoyed and one that has enabled it to carry through on its constitu tional project. Here I want to dwell on the implications of this for participation in Quillacollo's local associational politics as this is identified with the par ticipatory claims of cultural citizenship and as a means to evaluate Bolivia's

constitutional enactment of specifically cultural citizenship, which, as I have

already noted, distinguishes collective indigenous citizenship from that of the liberal individual.

This collective/individual distinction as a foundational preoccupation of

post-Enlightenment social theory, as characteristic of the way in which

Andeanist scholarship and now the state have imagined the political distinc

tiveness of indigenous peoples, and as typical of contemporary conceptions of

liberal multicultural citizenship, does not square well with indigenous loca

tions in Quillacollo. What it mostly misses is the way people regularly experi ence politics, an experience that does not alternate between that of "individual"

and "group member." Quillacollo's associational politics bring indigenous and popular crosscurrents to bear, sometimes as stigma and sometimes as

political capital, typically as part of ongoing public debate about diverse local and historical experiences that, if legibly indigenous, focus upon individuals

only to the extent that they are collectively representative. In Quillacollo such

debate about people's humble origins as cultural and political capital is one

basis for the creation by politically active people of the common ground enabling them to work together, however briefly.

In the many dozens of political meetings I observed in Quillacollo, what became apparent was the extent to which these functioned as crucibles of the

varieties of popular political experience. And while individual/collective ten

sions certainly formed a part of such meetings, framing them in such terms

makes it hard to appreciate the ways in which cooperative political work actu

ally gets done. If academic, activist, and legal formulations of cultural citizen

ship misconstrue the participatory work of "culture," as I am suggesting here, this is because in urban peripheries like Quillacollo the discourse and prac tices that constitute participation in local associations are historically multivo

cal in ways that complicate the legibility of group identity as it is represented in legal inscriptions of group rights.




Here I point only briefly to what I mean by describing the different varieties of political discourse found in the meetings of these unions and neighborhood associations. In doing so, I am drawing upon trailblazing work in political

anthropology and history emphasizing the eclecticism of cultural sources for

the construction of political solidarities and mobilization (e.g., Albro, 2006b;

Friedrich, 1986; Ginzburg, 1980; Mintz, 1982; Nash, 1993) and the fact that these sources (including indigenous experience) enable rather than inhibit

political work. Quillacollenos are engaged with the local municipality in a host of ways at once legal, economic, and political. As the most local political units, associations typically debate possible courses of action with respect to secur

ing recognition, cooperation, and needed resources from the municipality (see Goldstein, 2004, for a nearby comparison). Many of the most politically active

people living in and around Quillacollo are relatively recent in-migrants who have brought their primary political experiences with them. These people include ex-miners, factory workers, truckers, artisans, present and former

campesinos, and others, all of whom are conversant in the "union life." Union discourse and tactics are constant points of reference among both

leaders and rank-and-file members. Regardless of the issue, people discuss it

using the language of unions (saying "unity makes force"), refer to "the unity of the membership," describe meetings as cabildos (union-based referenda), address their fellows as companeros (comrades), think about their concerns as

expressions of particular social sectors (rather than in generalized political party terms), demand extensive leadership accountability and emphasize the deliberative power of the "bases," decry political party "manipulations," and

regularly weigh in on the benefits of work stoppages, blockades, demonstra

tions, protest marches, and other direct-action union tactics. Quillacollo's local associations are shot through with the history and experiences of union poli tics, which include the storied era of the dominance of agrarian strong-man

politics from the 1950s to at least the early 1970s as well as the prominent shadow of the nearby Manaco factory, whose union was nationally prominent during the 1970s and 1980s. Many who are still politically active in Quillacollo cut their teeth on the discourse and activities of these union precedents and invoke them. The union experience is a basic political experience for a broad cross section of Quillacollo residents.

Local associations in Quillacollo are also shot through with regular expres sions and arguments about the conduct of individuals. But this, too, cannot be reduced to any particular "individualism" (say, as an outcome of neoliberal

multiculturalism in Bolivia). Members of different unions or neighborhood associations spend a great deal of time expressing concerns about political and personal attitudes of "self-interest" (interes) Debates in such meetings often include accusations of the lack of transparency, embezzlement or self

aggrandizement, and "dictatorial" behavior and defenses against such

charges. As first among equals, dirigentes (elected leaders) of local associations often serve in the role of spokespersons who also negotiate on behalf of their social sector. They also maintain spirited rivalries, regularly denouncing each

other, using character assassination, and carrying out vendettas. Politics in

Quillacollo is, without any doubt, very personal. All of these individualistic goings-on are, however, generally interpreted

against a variety of standards. One pervasive standard is that of local leadership




as largely incorporated into hierarchical patronage-clientage structures.

Dirigentes are often accused of antidemocratic behavior?making decisions

"among compadres" (either patrons or clients). Locally, compadrerios, in turn, are assumed to refer to the unilateral imposition of decisions of higher-ups (often national party politicians) on a local membership through their clients.

Alternatively, patronage-clientage through fictive kinship (or some other

means) is a regular strategy of the leaders of base organizations for informally facilitating access to resources flowing to them from the municipality. And all local leaders are quickly judged by the aphorism "One must do works." This context for interpreting interested political behavior is a legacy of the post 1952 state, which was largely organized through an informal patronage hier

archy in which Quillacollo had an important role. And yet this same conduct is as often viewed by the "bases" in terms of

the competing cultural standards of reciprocity, the supplication of saints,

civil-religious cargos, Andean relations of exchange, various diacritics such as drinking chicha or something else, generalized indigenous and popular cultural fluencies, and the public embrace of "humble" descent, among others

(see Albro, 2001). Leaders of local associations, in short, navigate multiple cultural contexts of individualism that are not altogether distinct from one

another. At the same time, politics in Quillacollo is a multireferential public

sphere in which successive state projects, including the post-1952 patronage state, the post-1985 neoliberal state, do not cease to matter and uneasily coexist with the post-2005 plurinational sate (see Albro, 2009).

These associations, then, are settings for the collective expression of popular

indigenous cultural sensibilities. They are the primary vehicles for the organi zation of collective work to which all members contribute. This work often

takes the form of "self-help" projects in coordination with the local municipal

ity and relies on varieties of what I will simply label "Andean reciprocity and

exchange," which goes by different names, most generically ayni. Meetings of

associations are also often called k'arakus, a word referring to expectation of

food and drinking reciprocities among dirigentes and rank and file whereby the former demonstrate selfless generosity and intimate equivalence with

the membership. The activities of associations?unions or neighborhood associations?are punctuated by organized ritual activities. Typically these

include the performance of ch!alias (ritual libations) to ensure a successful

outcome by feeding local cosmic forces so that they will reciprocate by fulfill

ing the requests of the membership. Local leaders commented to me, at times

sheepishly and at times didactically, "This is our tradition, and it comes from

the ancestors." In short, local associations are one basis for collective and pub lic assertions of popular-indigenous identity in Quillacollo. But, though often

collective, associational life in Quillacollo is not unitary in the corporate or

legal sense of group rights, in which political deliberation is assumed to take

place within one or another shared identity frame (see Benhabib, 2002: 133

146, for discussion of this concept of deliberative democracy). Instead, local

associations bring together different historical varieties of local collective

political experience in undifferentiated ways. This has included the ways in which people in and around Quillacollo

have managed to exploit successive multicultural state precedents. Critiques




of so-called neoliberal multiculturalism have emphasized that it offers a

minimal package of cultural rights as a way to discipline the participation of

indigenous people under neoliberal regimes (Hale, 2004). Commentators

have stressed the role of the Popular Participation Law as complementary to

then-established neoliberal policy as part of the state's effort to co-opt poten

tially dissenting voices into the formal procedures of governance (Medeiros,

2001). But the law also clearly opened up new local political spaces for indig enous and campesino actors. Not only did it give traditional forms of local

political organization a new political role but it acted as a doorway for indig enous and campesino leaders into municipal government (Albo, 2002). It also

gave legal validity to customary law (usos y costumbres), and in so doing it

created perhaps unanticipated incentives to articulate local grievances and

political claims in terms of cultural rights, as became clear during Cochabamba's water war in 2000 (see Laurie, Andolina, and Radcliffe, 2002). When necessary, the province's mestizo penny capitalists can advance collec

tive cultural claims.

FINAL THOUGHTS

In and around Quillacollo there is no moment when "individual" or

"collective" priorities provide an unproblematic framework for reducing politics to, say, the corporate claims of an indigenous group, with well

patrolled boundaries, as a primary political unit of deliberation that is self evident. In short, the application of group rights to the political arena of

Quillacollo misses its particular political dynamic while stripping away the ways in which political work regularly moves back and forth among frames of indigenous and mestizo identity that make that work possible and that loomed large in the successful indigenous-popular mobilizations

during the early 2000s in Bolivia. To recognize this means to locate such

indigenous politics in cities as nonterritorial and expressing varieties of cultural and political experience rather than as defined exclusively by cor

porate units. Bolivia's new constitution unintentionally divests urban indigenous

experience?the crosscurrents of indigenous cultural engagements and coalition building in cities?of any legal recognition. This foregrounds the

challenge of taking better account of the changing cultural politics of cities in Bolivia.13 Writing about El Alto, Lazar (2008: 19) aptly observes the prob lem of locating urban indigenous politics: "Either the city is seen as a debased

space where people lose their collective morals and succumb to (implicitly Western) individualist consumerism, or they bring their rural traditions to the city and automatically create rural, collective life there." But, as exam

ples such as Quillacollo make clear, any easy distinction between individual and collective investments and rights might be hard to draw. While the new constitution represents a landmark in indigenous enfranchisement and a benchmark in the effort to fill out the cultural implications of citizenship, as Saskia Sassen (2009) has argued it is also an indicator of the ongoing incom

pleteness of citizenship as a contract between states and subjects and as a




basis for political participation. Bolivia's new constitution represents an

admirable but transitional moment with respect to the challenges posed to states by the recognition of collective cultural rights. A central part of these

challenges is the need to transcend a conception of legal rights and claims

inhering in citizenship as of necessity mutually exclusively either individual or collective. For corners of Bolivia such as Quillacollo, if mestizaje is a much more diverse set of experiences?including of indigenous experiences?than the state recognizes, we should not expect any easy equation between popular

indigenous autonomy, on the one hand, and the unitary voice of the indig enous community, on the other.

NOTES

1. The day after the election, both the Bolivian and the international press reported exit-poll data indicating that Morales had won approximately 63 percent of the vote compared with 23 percent for his nearest rival (see Romero, 2009).

2. The Bolivian anthropologist Ricardo Calla was quoted in an article appearing on the eve

of the most recent national elections suggesting that Evo's expanding influence is to the detri

ment of a broader diversity of indigenous voices on the national political landscape (Romero and

Schipani, 2009). 3. These quotations are all taken from presentations by and conversations with Bolivian col

leagues who took part in the conference "Outlook for Indigenous Politics in the Andean Region," held at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, December 1, 2009.

4. Discussions of mestizaje in Bolivia and in the Andes are many; for a representative sample see Klein (1992), Larson (1998), and Rivera (1993).

5. Ayllu refers to a pre-Columbian form of characteristically Andean social and political organization that continues to be present in different parts of Bolivia.

6. This discussion, then, is part of a broader set of ongoing debates that in the previous decade took the form of "communitarianism" among political scientists and that among North

American social scientists begins with the work of Tocqueville and, more recently, Robert

Putnam. The present argument identifies this set of concerns in the context of international and

national Bolivian debates about indigenous advocacy and rights. For an excellent discussion of

associational life in these terms, see Edwards (2004:18-36). 7. Lazar's (2008: 12) excellent ethnography of local political organization and indigenous

mobilization in El Alto during the 2000s understands the mobilization of urban Aymaras as an

expression of a "collective political subject" with its sources of membership in multiple civic

associations and as linked with regular calls for cultural rights. 8. In the primarily Aymara communities to which Albo refers, adults pass through a series

of cargos to which they are elected and that are part of the process of achieving full adulthood and community standing. These include a variety of community cultural, religious, economic,

and political responsibilities and typically rotate on an annual basis.

9. Cholo is a historically derogatory term used in Bolivia and throughout the Andes to describe an upwardly mobile, often urban person of indigenous descent.

10. Most obviously these include Articles 289-296, 304, 394 (III), and 403. 11. Jose Antonio Lucero (2008: 161-162) puts this nicely in reference to Bolivia when he

notes that "Indianness" is "formed dialogically by a plurality of actors who engage in a conversation over what indigenous identity is and what its political projects should be about."

12. In other words, rather than reading mestizaje exclusively through historical layers of

memory?colonial, liberal, populist?we also need to take stock of the diversity of kinds of con

temporary cultural engagements with and through mestizaje as a field of possibilities. 13. This includes an unexamined assumption of an urban-rural differentiation between a

mestizo-creole urban minority, on the one hand, and an indigenous rural minority, on the other

(see Rivera, 1993).




REFERENCES

AIN (Andean Information Network) 2007 "Under pressure: Bolivian assembly struggles to draft constitution." April 26. http:// ain-bolivia.org/index.php?option==com_content&task=view&id=86&Itemid=32. 2009 "Bolivian constitutional referendum analysis: an overview." January 14. http://

am-bolivia.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=142&Itemid=32. Albo, Xavier

1985 Desafios de la solidaridad aymara. Cuaderno de Investigacion CIPCA 25. 1987 "From MNRistas to Kataristas to Katari," pp. 379-419 in S. Stern (ed.), Resistance,

Rebellion, and Consciousness in the Peasant World, 18th to 20th Centuries. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press.

1996 "Making the leap from local mobilization to national politics." NACLA Report on the Americas 29:15-20.

2002 "Bolivia: from Indian and campesino leaders to councillors and parliamentary depu ties," in Rachel Seider (ed.), Multiculturalism in Latin America: Indigenous Rights, Diversity, and

Democracy. London: Palgrave. 2008 "The Tong memory7 of ethnicity and some temporary oscillations," in J. Crabtree and

L. Whitehead (eds.), Unresolved Tensions: Bolivia Past and Present. Pittsburgh: University of

Pittsburgh Press.

Albro, Robert

2001 "Reciprocity and realpolitik: image, career, and factional genealogies in provincial Bolivia." American Ethnologist 28: 56-93.

2005a "The water is ours, jcarajo!: deep citizenship in Bolivia's water war," pp. 249-271 in

J. Nash (ed.), Social Movements: An Anthropological Reader. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

2005b "The indigenous in the plural in Bolivian oppositional politics." Bulletin of Latin American Research 24: 433-454.

2006a "The culture of democracy and Bolivia's indigenous movements." Critique of Anthropology 26: 387-410.

2006b "Actualidades: Bolivia's 'Evo phenomenon': from identity to what?" Journal of Latin

American Anthropology 11: 408-428. 2008 "MAScalculations and the Constitutional Assembly: the new legislative terms of indig enous representation vis-a-vis the Bolivian state." Paper presented at the conference

"Decolonizing the Nation, (Re) Imagining the City: Indigenous Peoples Mapping New Political Terrain," Evanston, IL, May 8-9.

2009 "Neoliberal cultural heritage and Bolivia's new indigenous public," pp. 146-161 in

C. Greenhouse (ed.), Ethnographies of Neoliberalism. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

2010 Roosters at Midnight: Indigenous Signs and Stigma in Local Bolivian Politics. Santa Fe: School of American Research Press.

Alvarez, Sonia, Evelina Dagnino, and Arturo Escobar (eds.) 1998 Cultures of Politics/Politics of Cultures: Revisioning Latin American Social Movements. Boulder: Westview Press.

Ari Chachaki, Waskar (ed.) 2001 Aruskipasipxanasataki: El siglo XXI y el futuro del pueblo aymara. La Paz: Editorial Amuyanataki.

Benhabib, Seyla 2002 The Claims of Culture: Equality and Diversity in the Global Era. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Bevins, Vincent

2009 "A new dawn for Bolivia?" New Statesman, January 26. http://www.newstatesman .com/ south-america/2009/01/indigenous-rights-constitution.

Brysk, Alison 2000 From Tribal Village to Global Village: Indian Rights and International Relations in Latin America. Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press.

Buxton, Nick

2009 "Bolivia's new constitution." Transnational Institute, February 5. http://www.tni.Org// archives/act/19180.




Carroll, Rory 2009 "Bolivia set to adopt new constitution empowering indigenous majority." Guardian,

January 23.

Dagnino, Evelina

2003 "Citizenship in Latin America: an introduction." Latin American Perspectives 30 (2): 211-225.

Dandier, Jorge 1971 "Politics of leadership, brokerage, and patronage in the campesino movement of Cochabamba." Ph.D. diss., University of Wisconsin, Madison.

Dangl, Benjamin 2007 The Price of Fire: Resource Wars and Social Movements in Bolivia. London: AK Press. 2008 "Polarizing Bolivia: Santa Cruz votes for autonomy." CounterPunch, May 9. http://www

.counterpunch.org/dangl05092008.html. de la Cadena, Marisol

2000 Indigenous Mestizos: The Politics of Race and Culture in Cuzco, Peru, 1919-1991. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

2001 "Reconstructing race: racism, culture, and mestizaje in Latin America." NACLA Report on the Americas 34 (6): 16-23.

Edwards, Michael

2004 Civil Society. Cambridge: Polity Press. Flores, William V.

1997 "Introduction: constructing cultural citizenship," pp. 1-23 in Latino Cultural Citizenship:

Claiming Identity, Space, and Rights. Boston: Beacon Press.

Friedrich, Paul

1986 Princes ofNaranja: An Essay in Anthrohistorical Method. Austin: University of Texas Press. Garcia Canclini, Nestor

2001 Consumers and Citizens: Globalization and Multicultural Conflicts. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Gill, Lesley 2000 Teetering on the Rim: Global Restructuring, Daily Life, and the Armed Retreat of the Bolivian State. New York: Columbia University Press.

Ginzburg, Carlo

1980 The Cheese and the Worms: The Cosmos of a Sixteenth-Century Miller. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.

Goldstein, Daniel 2004 The Spectacular City: Violence and Performance in Urban Bolivia. Durham, NC: Duke

University Press.

Goodale, Mark

2006 "Reclaiming modernity: indigenous cosmopolitanism and the coming of the second

Bolivian revolution." American Ethnologist 33: 634-649.

Gordillo, Jose M.

2000 Campesinos revolucionarios en Bolivia: Identidad, territorio y sexualidad en el Valle Alto de

Cochabamba, 1952-1964. La Paz: Editorial Plural.

Gray Molina, George 2008 Bolivia's Long and Winding Road. Washington, DC: Inter-American Dialogue. 2009 "A deeper look at Bolivia's 'indigenous constitution.'" Research News CRISE 5:1-2.

Gustafson, Bret

2002 "The paradoxes of liberal indigenism: indigenous movements, state processes, and

intercultural reform in Bolivia," pp. 267-306 in David Maybury-Lewis (ed.), The Politics of Ethnicity. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Hale, Charles

2004 "Rethinking Indian politics in the era of the 'indio permitido.'" NACLA Report on the Americas 38 (2): 16-22.

Healy, Kevin

1991 "The political ascent of Bolivia's coca leaf producers." Journal of Interamerican Studies and

World Affairs 33 (1): 87-122. 2001 Llamas, Weavings, and Organic Chocolate: Multicultural Grassroots Development in the Andes

and Amazon of Bolivia. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press.




Holder, Cindy L. and Jeff J. Corntassel 2002 "Indigenous peoples and multicultural citizenship: bridging collective and individual

rights." Human Rights Quarterly 24:126-151.

Hylton, Forrest and Sinclair Thomson

2007 Revolutionary Horizons: Past and Present in Bolivian Politics. London: Verso.

Keane, Dan

2009 "Bolivians back new, pro-indigenous constitution!" The Huffington Post, January 25.

http: // www.huffingtonpost.com / huff-wires /20090125/ lt-bolivia-referendum /. Klein, Herbert

1992 Bolivia: The Evolution of a Multi-Ethnic Society. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kohl, Benjamin and Linda Farthing

2006 Impasse in Bolivia: Neoliberal Hegemony and Popular Resistance. New York: Zed Books.

Kymlicka, Will 1996 Multicultural Citizenship: A Liberal Theory of Minority Rights. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Larson, Brooke

1998 Cochabamba, 1550-1900: Colonialism and Agrarian Transformation in Bolivia. Durham, NC:

Duke University Press.

Laurie, Nina, Robert Andolina, and Sarah Radcliffe

2002 "The excluded Indigenous'? The implications of multi-ethnic water reform in Bolivia,"

pp. 252-276 in Rachel Seider (ed.), Multiculturalism in Latin America: Indigenous Rights, Diversity, and Democracy. New York: Palgrave.

Lazar, Sian

2008 El Alto, Rebel City: Self and Citizenship in Andean Bolivia. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Lucero, Jose Antonio

2008 Struggles of Voice: The Politics of Indigenous Representation in the Andes. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press.

Malloy, James M.

1970 Bolivia: The Uncompleted Revolution. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Mamani Condori, Carlos B.

1991 Taraqu 1866-1935: Masacre, guerra y "renovation" en la biografia de Eduardo L. Nina Qhispi. La Paz: Ediciones Aruwiyiri.

Mayorga, Fernando

1991 Max Fernandez: La politica del silencio. La Paz: ILDIS. 2002 Neopopulismo y democracia: Compadres y padrinos en la politica boliviana (1988-1999). La Paz: Editorial Plural.

Medeiros, Carmen

2001 "Civilizing the popular? The Law of Popular Participation and the design of a new civil

society in 1990s Bolivia." Critique of Anthropology 21: 401-425. Miller Liana, Sara

2009 "Bolivia sets new global high mark for indigenous rights." Christian Science Monitor,

January 27.

Mintz, Jerome 1982 The Anarchists of Casas Viejas. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Nash, June 1993 We Eat the Mines and the Mines Eat Us. 2d edition. New York: Columbia University Press.

Negri, Antonio

2009 Insurgencies: Constituent Power and the Modern State. 2d edition. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Orta, Andrew

2001 "Remembering the ayllu, remaking the nation: indigenous scholarship and activism in the Andes." Journal of Latin American Anthropology 6:198-201.

Paley, Julia 2008 "Introduction," pp. 3-30 in Julia Paley (ed.), Democracy: Anthropological Approaches. Santa

Fe: School of Advanced Research Press.

Perreault, Thomas

2005 "State restructuring and the scale politics of rural water governance in Bolivia."

Environment and Planning 37: 263-284.




Postero, Nancy 2005 "Indigenous responses to neoliberalism: a look at the Bolivian uprising of 2003." Political and Legal Anthropology Review 28 (1): 73-92. 2007 Now We Are Citizens: Indigenous Politics in Post-Multicultural Bolivia. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.

Republica de Bolivia 2009 Nueva Constitution Polttica del Estado: Texto aprobado en el referendum constituyente de enero de 2009. La Paz: Asamblea Constituyente, Honorable Congreso Nacional.

Rivera Cusicanqui, Silvia

1984 Oprimidos pero no vencidos: Luchas del campesinado aymara y qhechwa de Bolivia, 1900-1980. La Paz: Ediciones Yachaywasi. 1990 "Liberal democracy and ayllu democracy in Bolivia: the case of Northern Potosi."

Journal of Development Studies 26 (4): 97-121. 1993 "La raiz: colonizadores y colonizados," pp. 55-96 in Silvia Rivera and Raul Barrios

(eds.), Violencias encubiertas en Bolivia. La Paz: CIPCA.

Rodriguez Veltze, Eduardo

2008 "The development of constituent power in Bolivia," pp. 145-159 in John Crabtree and Laurence Whitehead (eds.), Unresolved Tensions: Bolivia Past and Present. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press.

Romero, Simon

2009 "Morales headed for reelection in Bolivia." New York Times, December 7.

Romero, Simon and Andres Schipani 2009 "In Bolivia, a force for change endures." New York Times, December 5.

Sassen, Saskia

2009 "Unsettling the politics of membership." Paper presented at the conference "Contested

Liberal Citizenship in Latin America," Jerusalem, July 6-9.

Scott, James 1998 Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed.

New Haven: Yale University Press.

Stephenson, Marcia

2002 "Forging an indigenous counterpublic sphere: the Taller de Historia Oral Andina de Bolivia." Latin American Research Review 37 (2): 99-118.

Stevenson, Nick

2003 Cultural Citizenship: Cosmopolitan Questions. Berkshire: Open University Press.

Taylor, Matthew

2009 "Evo Morales hails 'New Bolivia' as constitution is approved." Guardian, January 26.

Ticona Alejo, Esteban

2000 Organization y liderazgo aymara, 1979-1996. La Paz: Editorial Plural.

Toranzo Roca, Carlos

2008 "Let the mestizos stand up and be counted," pp. 35-50 in John Crabtree and Laurence

Whitehead (eds.), Unresolved Tensions: Bolivia Past and Present. Pittsburgh: University of

Pittsburgh Press.

Van Cott, Donna Lee

2001 "Explaining ethnic autonomy regimes in Latin America." Studies in Comparative International Development 35 (4): 30-58.

Van Schaick, Alex

2009 "Bolivia's new constitution." NACLA Report on the Americas, January 21. https://nacla

.org/node/5437. Warren, Kay and Jean Jackson

2002 "Introduction: studying indigenous activism in Latin America," pp. 1-46 in Kay Warren

and Jean Jackson (eds.), Indigenous Movements, Self-Representation, and the State in Latin

America. Austin: University of Texas Press.

Weismantel, Mary 2006 "The ayllu: modern and anti-modern in the Andes," pp. 77-100 in G. Creed (ed.), The

Seductions of Community: Emancipations, Oppressions, Quandaries. Santa Fe: School of American

Research Press.

Yashar, Deborah

2005 Contesting Citizenship in Latin America: The Rise of Indigenous Movements and the Postliberal

Challenge. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.



Documents

Confounding Cultural Citizenship and Constitutional Reform in Bolivia