Preface
The fieldwork supporting this book was done in the mid-1990s, when I was preparing my doctoral dissertation. Based on the research findings, I published a book in Bolivia (2000) regarding revolutionary peasants’ political experiences in Cochabamba. When looking back at the academic and political context in Bolivia two decades ago, I can better discern now why it was then that my book was so controversial. In fact, I was swimming against the tide, for an “ethnic wave” meant the popular political imagery of the peasantry in Latin America became derogatory again, while simultaneously idealizing that of the indigenous people. This happened as a result of the end of the Cold War in the world and the military dictatorship era in Latin America, during the 1980s. Therefore, when analyzing and projecting social change forwards into the coming twenty-first century, both scholars and politicians at that moment distanced themselves from the previously canonical Marxist concept of “class struggle” and replaced it with the premise of “ethnic conflict.”
Twenty years later, however, the pendulum of history has again oscillated. The initially pristine representational image of the indígena originario (original indigenous people) has lost its luster in Bolivia. Nowadays, both in symbolic as well as practical political terms, the powerful cocalero (coca-leaf producers) unions are at the head of Bolivian politics and its economy. How academics and politicians will react in the future to this shifting political reality is still uncertain, but the fact is that peasants are again back on top of the central political stage. My book is an updated version of the genesis of the campesino (peasant) identity and the consolidation of the peasant movement that fought for unionization and political autonomy during the revolutionary period (1952–64) in Cochabamba. Thus, it will not only contribute to the specific understanding of current cocalero unions’ political behavior in the sub-tropical lands of Chapare, but also to the general discussion of the peasants’ revolutionary role in Latin America.
I am grateful to Hendrik Kraay for encouraging me to write this book. He has always been generously present, both as colleague and friend, during the ups and downs of the writing process. Language barriers had been especially challenging when writing this book, because it was necessary first to transit from Quechua and Aymara to Spanish, and subsequently to English. I want to acknowledge the extraordinary work done by Joe Trigueiro, who went far beyond his task as proofreader to make the text compelling to the English-speaking reader. The institutional support I had received from Pablo Policzer, the former director of the Latin American Research Centre at the University of Calgary, was invaluable. My appreciation to Brian Scrivener, Helen Hajnoczky, and Melina Cusano at the University of Calgary Press. I am also grateful to Rogelio Velez, Isabel Fandino, and Andrés Lalama, who contributed as research assistants during the initial phase of the writing process.
The book’s text was enhanced by wonderful drawings, photographs, and maps. I want to express my admiration for the artistic work by Rene Gamboa Iporre, the Bolivian artist that contributed with the drawings. The fairly unique photographs of the revolutionary actors were provided by Teresa Chávez Vidovic and José Antonio Quiroga, director of Plural editores in La Paz (Bolivia), from the collection of Sinforoso Rivas Antezana. The maps were elaborated by William Gillies. Finally, I want to thank the two anonymous readers of the manuscript for their wise comments and editing suggestions.
José M. Gordillo
Bow Island (Canada), Winter 2022