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Rough Peace: Ostromian Communities and the Avoidance of Armed Conflict in Bolivia

Stewart Prest Postdoctoral Fellow, Norman Paterson School of International Affairs

Carleton University

2016 CPSA Annual Conference Calgary, AB

Word count (excluding bibliography): 7,595

Abstract: Recent research identifies social organizational structure as a determinant of the micro-dynamics of civil conflict, but little work has been done regarding the linkage between local institutions and the conflict onset. Towards that end, in this article, I argue that inclusive and bounded communities equipped with governance institutions capable of resolving collective action problems via contingent compliance—what I refer to as Ostromian communities (OCs)—are less likely to engage in armed resistance of state, thereby reducing the likelihood of armed conflict. Conversely, communities where solutions to collective action problems are limited and exclusive are more likely to give rise to armed insurgency. The article proceeds in three parts. First, I specify the theory of OCs, including specific mechanisms through which OCs achieve the posited effect including inclusive cohesiveness, an ability to incorporate considerations of community-wide costs and benefits in decision-making, and a robust ability to enforce decisions taken within and beyond the community, at both elite and mass levels. Second, using the qualitative method of process tracing I illustrate the superiority of the theory over alternative explanations in explaining the primary case of contestation over coca eradication in the Chapare region of Bolivia, an outlier negative case of civil conflict. Findings are on the basis of 70 participant and expert interviews along with significant original archival research. The study concludes with avenues for further testing and extension of results.

1. Introduction

On 27 June 1988, a confrontation between Bolivian cocaleros—coca farmers—and the country’s anti-drug police erupted in violence in the town of Villa Tunari. About a dozen campesinos lost their lives, with more than twice that number either injured or arrested, or both (Lee 1988: 95, Salazar Ortuño et al. 2008: 142-143). Some drowned, jumping off a cliff into a nearby river to escape the violence. The event marked the effective beginning of two decades of highly contested confrontational politics between the state and the region’s cocaleros and their allies.

Given the presence of so many structural, ideational, and historical factors identified as conducive to insurgency within the literature on civil conflict, armed resistance seemed a likely outcome. These factors included material elements such as rugged jungle terrain conducive to armed resistance—indeed, one participant described it as “ideal” for guerrilla resistance—the presence of an easily looted and highly profitable natural

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resource (coca), limited state capacity in general and specifically in the region. They also include ideational elements such as sharp class and ethnic divisions between state policymakers and the region’s rural indigenous campesinos, a recently rediscovered and reinvigorated cultural tradition of indigenous campesino activism, and a widely discussed tradition of armed resistance both within the country and the wider region. Moreover, there were a variety of potential triggers, including the use of armed repressive techniques by the state, in an attempt to quell political protest against the policy of eradication.

Given such a confluence of conflict pressures some attempt at violent resistance or insurgency seemed eminently possible at various moments, even likely, yet none emerged. Instead the cocaleros remained strongly united in pursuit of a three-pronged strategy of resistance that included innovative use of conventional political processes, non-conventional mobilization for nonviolent political protest, and the carefully calibrated and limited use of predominantly non-lethal force in opposition to specific eradication missions, all while deliberately eschewing the use of organized armed violence.

In this article I provide an explanation for that cohesion and commitment to non-violence. In doing so, I treat the Chapare as a negative outlier case suited to theoretical innovation, and advances a new theory regarding the relationship between community level governance and resistance. The argument proceeds as follows. After this introduction, I provide a brief overview of the existing literature, and present a theory linking the concept of “Ostromian communities” (OC) with the emergence of unconventional, non-violent resistance via a number of specific mechanisms. In section three I describe more precisely how the Chapare region constitutes a negative outlier with regard to the onset of conflict, illustrating how existing theories fail to account for the outcome. In section four, I discuss the questions of method and evidence. In section five I demonstrate how the cocalero federations constituted an example of an OC, and in section six I present two subcases that illustrate in different ways how that local institutional structure decisively shaped the pattern of contention between cocaleros and the state in the region towards nonviolence. Finally, I conclude with a summation of results and contributions.

2. Theory

In recent years we have seen a “social turn” in the study of civil conflict and civil war. Emphasis has shifted from consideration of the state, to the choices and behaviours of non-state actors in explaining conflict dynamics and outcomes in a given context. The move has produced innovative research, from Elisabeth Wood’s (2003) study of evolving norms and social networks among Salvadorian peasants and insurgents to Paul Staniland’s (2012) analysis of how community organization influences the dynamics of violence in the context of civil conflict. More generally it has produced significant new insights regarding the interrelationships between internal rebel organization and behaviour, as well as the pre-existing and evolving social contexts within which they are embedded (e.g. Weinstein 2007, Mampilly 2011, Parkinson 2013).

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However, the full potential of the move has not yet been realized. Questions regarding where, how, and why peace persists, particularly in seemingly unstable contexts, remain understudied. Given the fact that globally, peace is by far the more common outcome—it may not always be pretty, yet most countries muddle through, most of the time—this remains a significant lacuna in the literature.

Intuitively, one would expect some relationship to exist between community organization and the decision to rebel.1 Studies of conflict consistently highlight factors such as political grievance, social fragmentation, and alienation in accounting for individuals’ and groups’ decision to engage and/or participate in rebellion (e.g. Walter 2004, Humphreys and Weinstein 2008, Cunningham et al. 2012, Cunningham 2013). We lack both the theory and evidence to make and rigorously defend the converse case however, namely that strong local institutions can, under certain circumstances, mitigate or even prevent conflict through their effects on communities’ internal decision-making and decision enforcement processes. It is precisely this that I argue accounts for the observed outcome in the Chapare, the primary case studied here.

A separate line of investigation identifies a link between social fragmentation with more, and more violent conflict. For instance, looking at the particular context of struggles for self-determination, Cunningham (2013) finds, among other relevant factors, civil war is more likely to occur in states in which the self-determination groups are internally fragmented, while more unified groups are more likely to engage in conventional methods of political action. Cunningham et al. (2012), meanwhile, find that internal fragmentation is associated with increased instances of violence, both directed against the state and internal populations. Other authors have noted how conflict emerges only following some prior process of institutional breakdown or more general community fragmentation (e.g. Acheson 2006; Pearlman and Cunningham 2012). Again, it is plausible that institutions that prevent communal fragmentation might be associated with a reduced risk of conflict, but such a case must be made. The Argument: Ostromian Communities and Contestation

In response, I advance a theory relating local governance to armed resistance, arguing the ways in which communities resolve (or fail to resolve) the significant social dilemmas that they face—collective action problems of various kinds—shape their interactions with extracommunal actors. Specifically, I advance the concept of what I refer to as Ostromian communities, so called in recognition of Elinor Ostrom’s (1990) work identifying and explaining common pool resource institutions. As I use it, the term refers not only to instances of resource management, but more broadly to all communities featuring locally embedded and inclusive institutional solutions to significant social dilemmas that include mechanisms to enforce group decisions.

I amend existing models (Ostrom 1990, Ostrom et al. 1994, Wade 1994, and Agrawal 2001) to address two concerns. First, I re-express the constituent elements of such

1 Staniland (2012) and others have identified a similar logic linking community organization to rebel behaviour once conflict has broken out.

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communities in more general terms applicable to the provision of any public goods dilemma, and not just issues of resource management. Second, I specify the concept of OC in terms related to some open and inclusive identity, most commonly residency. Effectively, communities that organized around some kind of identity-based exclusionary principle—whether grounded in ethnicity, religion, class, family, or some other marker—may take actions that engender conflict with others in the same geographical area who are excluded from that organization. Such communities possess significant emergent capacities helping them to manage extracommunal conflict in ways that tend to reduce the likelihood of armed violence with the state, in ways I discuss below.2

The inclusive solutions to social dilemmas that characterize OCs may be distinguished from a variety of alternative governance structures. 3 They are identifiable by the presence of a number of “constituent elements.”4 I divide these elements into three categories: foundational, governance, and relational. The foundational elements of an OC are

1) A clearly defined communal boundary,

2) A shared and inclusive identity, and

3) A shared internal challenge taking the form of a collective action problem.

In response to previous dilemmas encountered, an OC will have incrementally adapted or explicitly designed and implemented a set of institutions to meet those shared challenges in an inclusive manner (Ostrom 1990: 90-103).5 Such institutions feature mechanisms by which to incorporate perspectives of those affected within the community on what solutions to implement, how to implement them, and how to ensure all members share benefits and burdens equitably. I refer to these collectively as governance elements, and they include

4) Institutions enabling collective deliberation and decision-making on a common policy in response to shared challenges;

5) Mechanisms to monitor and sanction defection by both elites and members from the implementation of agreed-upon actions; and

2 Beyond the Ostromian type, one potential set of alternatives would include 1) exclusive solutions produced through the collective effort of a small subset of actors; 2) shared solutions resulting from a single large actor acting out of an abundance of interest and resources; 3) solutions left to the market, with individual private interests dominating decision-making; and 4) coerced or chaotic solutions resulting from institutions that are either flawed or nonexistent (Olson 1965; Williamson 1975; Ostrom 1990: 8-13; North 1990; Levi 1989; Tilly 1985, 1993). Further research is necessary to specify and investigate a full typology, clarify the effects of each on the likelihood of armed conflict, and the mechanisms by which such effects occur. 3 The question of how an OC responds to contestation with other communities, when the power differential is much less, is an interesting one, but lies beyond the scope of the present article. 4 These are based primarily on Ostrom’s design elements for CPR institutions; the change in terminology is to better reflect the more general range of cases to which I argue OC is applicable. 5 While not subject of this article, Prest (2015) describes how such communities emerge.

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6) Dispute resolution mechanisms serving to strengthen within-group cohesion.

Finally, in her account of CPR institutions, Ostrom identifies two further properties related to external relations and scale, respectively. These too apply to OCs more generally. I refer to them as “relational” elements; they are

7) Minimal recognition from external authorities (whether implicit or explicitly stated; and

8) In larger contexts the entities take on a federated or otherwise nested internal organizational structure.

I identify and operationalize indicators for each of these constituent elements in section five below, using the specific case of the Chapare federations to illustrate.

As a result of their particular organizational structure, OCs also exhibit a number of emergent capacities that are unlikely to be found in communities lacking such institutions that tend to shape their responses to extracommunal threats. I identify three such capacities here, and identify links between each and a reduced likelihood of armed conflict onset under a broad range of circumstances.

• First, such structures provide a robust basis for continued cohesion within communities that do come under conflict pressures. Given the consistent link between fragmentation and armed violence in the literature described above, this cohesiveness makes armed resistance less likely to emerge via a number of commonly observed channels such as competition among group elites, defection, and so on.

• Second, OCs exhibit what I describe as “social rationality,” taking decisions based upon the shared interests of the community. Thanks to their inclusive deliberative institutions, OCs have the potential to confront threats or challenges to the community’s security in a manner representative of an inclusive understanding of the needs of the full community. At the same time, oversight and review mechanisms, along with periodic leadership competitions incentive leaders to serve that popular will rather than engage in conflict for private gain (Weingast 1997).

• Third, OCs are effective resource mobilizing organizations, a fact with a number of consequences. Thanks to their latent organizational capacity developed in response to previous collective action problems, once decisions are taken these communities have in place a system capable of mobilizing a diverse range of resources (Ostrom 1990). In general, they do so out of a form of contingent compliance (Levi 1989). The result is a high latent capacity to organize in a way that minimizes free riding and maximizes the mobilization of existing resources,

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while minimizing opportunities and incentives for either defection or independent resistance.6

Taken together, I argue that such emergent capacities result in OCs responding to external conflict pressures in distinct ways described above, and in general are less likely to engage in armed resistance of the state than other communities lacking such characteristics. In the balance of this paper, I demonstrate this outcome in the specific context of the hard case of the Chapare during the struggle over coca production.

3. The Chapare as an Outlier Negative Case

The primary purpose of this article is the identification and illustration of a novel theoretical account for a certain class of outcomes—namely contentious, yet consistently nonviolent resistance politics—despite the presence of significant conflict pressures. Its use of the Chapare region of Bolivia as a primary case for investigation conforms to what George and Bennett (2005) refer to as “heuristic” case study, which they describe as being used to “inductively identify new variables, hypotheses, causal mechanism, and causal paths. “Deviant” or “outlier” cases may be particularly useful for heuristic purposes, as by definition their outcomes are not what traditional theories would anticipate” (2005: 75). That is precisely the role played by the case of the Chapare here. As an outlier, it is a hard case for existing theory to explain. By examining how contention emerged and evolved throughout the period of confrontation one may gain a better understanding of alternative explanatory approaches previously missed.

The “Possibility Principle” developed by Mahoney and Goertz (2004) confirms the specification of the Chapare as an outlier negative case, and gives some guidance as to the range over which the resulting theoretical explanation may be expected to apply. As they put it, “the Possibility Principle holds that only cases where the outcome of interest is possible should be included in the set of negative cases; cases where the outcome is impossible should be relegated to a set of uninformative and hence irrelevant observations” (2004: 653). This is certainly case in the Chapare region of Bolivia.

The empirical case for the Chapare as a negative outlier includes both structural and contingent historical considerations. Structurally, Bolivia was among the poorest Latin American nations. Though debate continues as to the precise mechanisms, it is well established that conflict is more likely among poorer countries (e.g. Fearon and Laitin 2003, Hegre et al. 2001). In 1988, its per capita GDP was 3rd lowest in the region, behind all but Guyana and Haiti. During the prolonged coca boom of the 1970s and early 1980s, the Chapare region absorbed many of the country’s poorest. RV, a long-time leader in Central Unidas federation forcefully expressed both the need that drove migration to the region, and the grievance that that want generated:

6 Encouragingly, this accords with and builds upon Tarrow’s (1994) study of mobilization, as well as the previous ground-breaking work of McAdam (1982), and indeed Olsen (1965) regarding the need for such mobilizing organizations at the heart of any effective movement. Responses to perceived injustices do not simply emerge; some organizing structure is inevitably necessary to overcome collective action problems.

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Obviously in Potosi [one of the highland departments in Bolivia from which many Chaparenos migrated] there was a degree of poverty almost 92%, if I’m not mistaken. In other areas it was 70%, a high degree of poverty in different departments because there was a total absence of the state…. There were…[divisions between] first and second [class] people. Some privileged with more rights, other people in the country without rights, people in the second category.

Even so, poverty remained widespread even following setters’ arrival in the region, as numerous interview participants confirmed. State capacity in the region was likewise extremely limited—another significant precondition of armed conflict (Fearon and Laitin 2003). As one local expert put it,

In some cases it was just the mayor [present in a given region], in some cases it was just the sub-prefect, or the mayor, but there was no institution to support him. It was just one man. (Jose Luis Mamani, interview with author).

Indeed, prior to the enactment of the Law of Popular Participation in 1994,

Beyond the nine regional capitals (including La Paz) and an additional 25-30 cities, local government existed in Bolivia at best in name, as an honorary and ceremonial institution devoid of administrative capability and starved for funds. And in most of the country it did not exist at all (Faguet 2004: 6).

At the same time, Bolivia was and remains sharply along lines of class and ethnic identities, another significant predictor of conflict (e.g. Gurr 2000, Stewart and House 2002, Fearon and Laitin 2000, Horowitz 1985, Esteban and Ray 2008). Following the country’s return to democracy in 1982, Bolivia was governed by a series of “pacted” governments based upon agreements among political parties embedded in, and partial to middle- and upper class mestizo populations. The predominantly rural, indigenous majority—themselves separated into numerous populations, including Aymara and Quechua in the country’s highlands and central valley regions, along with numerous smaller groups in the country’s lowlands—had little say in the governance of the country.

On the particular issue of coca, the state was even less open to democratic influence, in large part owing to the significant influence enjoyed by the United States on Bolivian decision-making, combined with the increasingly hard line the US took on all issues related to cocaine trafficking, including the initial production of coca.7 To abandon the strategy of eradication was to risk alienating the country’s longstanding principal international supporter. At the height of contention in the region, Laserna et al. (1999: ix-x, translation by author) wrote that

Bolivian governmental actions were in reality a result of these pressures [between the US government, cocaleros, and other interested parties] which together

7 Note that the claim here is not that Bolivia as a whole was anocratic, but rather exhibited a mixture of democratic and autocratic governance elements—a condition associated wit armed conflict (Hegre et al. 2001) specifically in the realm of coca policy.

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considerably restricted the margin available to the governments to decide and act with autonomy.

Beyond such structural factors, conditions in the Chapare itself made armed conflict seem not only possible, but also eminently feasible. Between its isolation and rugged jungle geography it was, in the words of Filemón Escóbar, a long-time former advisor to Evo Morales, an “ideal zone for the guerrilla” (2008: 179). The idea of armed resistance was, moreover, repeatedly brought up in discussions as to how best to resistance support for violent resistance was real in the region, among many cocaleros. In his writings, Escóbar goes into detail regarding the depth of desire among campesinos in the Bolivian jungle to take up arms (2008: 202-203).

There was, moreover, a provocative military presence in the region, varying in intensity, but always present throughout the course of contention. Research findings to date regarding responses to repression are indeterminate; research remains unclear as to when it might provoke violent resistance, non-violent resistance, or repress all dissent Davenport (2007) makes this point explicitly in an expansive review of existing literature. It is only in recent years that the systematic exploration of what distinguishes violent from nonviolent resistance has begun in earnest, such as Chenoweth and Stephan (2011), and Cunningham (2013). We continue to lack case-based research regarding the specific mechanisms by which actors opt for nonviolent resistance while eschewing armed rebellion and, just as importantly, the conditions under which we expect to see such outcomes. Accordingly, this article contributes to that effort by highlighting how local organizational structure can shape local forms of resistance, which in turn shapes likely state responses.

In summary, the lack of armed conflict through more than 20 years of often-tense contestation between armed state actors and the mobilized cocalero population in the Chapare region of Bolivia is remarkable. It is an outcome that goes against our expectations of current theory, one that requires further explanation.

4. Research Methodology

As a article reliant on qualitative data in the form of archival records, contemporary news reports, and in person interviews with participants and experts—supplemented where possible by quantitative data—it employs a primary research methodology of in case process tracing, one heavily dependent on, as Bennett and Checkel (2014) and George and Bennett (2005) describe, theory-laden analytical narrative. In doing so, I follow Bennett and Checkel (2014: 7) in defining process tracing as the analysis of evidence on processes, sequences, and conjunctures of events within a case for the purposes of either developing or testing hypotheses about causal mechanisms that might causally explain the case.

In keeping with the process tracing method, it is imperative to consider the possibility that one or more alternative explanations better explains observations. Accordingly, wherever possible in the description above and account below I try to highlight how other existing theoretical accounts fail to explain the outcomes observed in the Chapare.

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Evidence

I have assembled an extensive set of materials for use in the primary case of the Chapare. They include participant and expert interviews, two print newspaper archives rendered searchable using optical character recognition software, and newly collected archival data from the coca producer federations. The study included 70 interview participants, several of whom I spoke with on more than one occasion. The interviews themselves were semi-structured, and conducted in such a way as to allow participants some freedom to focus on what they themselves felt was most important to talk about while still ensuring the discussions remained focused on the general set of topics I was trying to explore and explain.

In addition, the research also builds on newly collected primary archival documentary study. The most significant of these were a number of federation constitutions and biennial congress summaries. These documents, while difficult to obtain given the lack of central repository—they were obtained from the federation and central secretaries who initially assembled them—were extremely useful in corroborating in some cases extending what interview participants told me regarding the inner workings of the cocalero federations, a crucial consideration in establishing that the six federations did operate as an OC.

5. The Chapare as Ostromian Community

Figure 1: Map of the Six Federations of the Chapare. Source: UNODC.

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The Chapare is a tropical and subtropical area of the department of Cochabamba, lying approximately 100km to the east of the department’s eponymous capital and nearly 2 km below it. Consisting of dense rainforest, the region receives more than 3800 mm of rain annually.8 The population remains predominantly rural, with the vast majority living in the country. Accordingly, agriculture remains the most important industry, though the easternmost areas of the region, notably in the area governed by the Federation Bulo Bulo, do have some level of natural gas production as well.

The most important political lines of demarcation in the region relate to the now six agricultural federations that govern rural producers’ internal relations, and represent them collectively to the rest of the country. Since the initial international cocaine boom in the 1970s, coca has been the most lucrative and reliable crop in the Chapare (Painter 1994).

Beyond the its economic value, coca has long played a cultural role in indigenous Bolivian life, not just in the Chapare but also throughout the highlands (Allen 1981: 157, Grisaffi 2010). Senator Salazar describes it in these terms: “the coca leaf represents our cultural identity as indigenous campesino peoples, who are Aymara and Quechua” (interview with author) Original inhabitant or settler; Quechua, Aymara, or Guarani; ex-miner, rancher, or former teacher—the coca leaf carried not only economic but also cultural significance for all of them, thus becoming a potent and unifying symbol of rural indigenous identity in the Chapare. An attack on the right to grow coca accordingly constituted an existential threat for the region’s inhabitants.

In the following sections I evaluate how well the Chapare federations conform to the various constituent elements of an Ostromian community, using operational indicators for each to do so.

5.1 Foundational Constituent Elements

The bounded nature of the cocalero community in the Chapare is a function of the geography of the region along with its particular settlement history, enhanced more recently by its emerging coca economy. Given the rough terrain and the relative lack of infrastructural support from the government the colonists in the initial waves, beginning in the 1950s and continuing through the end of the coca boom in the mid 1980s, tended to settle in small, close-knit farming communities located near the major transportation routes into the region, both highway and river (Spedding 2004; Salazar Ortuño et al. 2008; Painter 1994). This ensured that the boundaries to a typical colony were self-evident upon founding. It also made clear the need to provide collective assistance for one another in order to meet basic communal needs. Community members generally agreed upon explicit communal agreements regarding shared responsibilities.9 The goals of the communities were universally practical, even prosaic. As García Linera et al. put it, “the union in its genesis was an entity where families organized themselves to distribute lands, regulate the supply of labour, and organize the local authority to manage daily life” 8 By way of comparison, notoriously rainy Vancouver B.C. receives less than a third of that amount. 9 There is undoubtedly an important cultural component here, as the new arrivals drew on knowledge of existing communal structures present in the regions from which they came, though these were adapted in various respects. I discuss this in greater detail in Prest (2015).

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(2004: 390). These syndicates eventually organized themselves an organization hierarchy consisting of “centrals”, groupings of 10 or so union locals, which were themselves organized into the six federations that ultimately emerged. This hierarchical structure conforms exactly to Ostrom’s description of the nested structure one would observe in a CPR institution.

The focus of those organizations grew steadily more political during the 1980s as state policy hardened, taking on the task of defending members’ rights to produce coca. By 1991, they had formally united under a central committee, the Coordinadora, that coordinated the political efforts of the federations.

5.2 Governance Constituent Elements

In institutional terms, there are arrangements provided in each Federation’s constitution for active participation in decisions taken. All members have a right to be elected as local, central, and federation level officials, and as delegates to the regular meetings of each group. Delegates have explicit rights to voice and vote in meetings, and take part in commissions—effectively standing committees—that craft reports and motions for action on various topics. Likewise, component organizations are able to move motions at meetings of umbrella organizations. Debates are often extensive.

Enforcement in turn operates at two levels, mass and elite, with multiple mechanisms for each. Regarding elites, the federation maintains a set of controls through the equivalent of standing budget and audit committees (e.g. FETCTC 2000). At the mass level, methods of policy enforcement range from conflict mediation performed by elected officials within the union local to more formal procedures of sanctioning and censure. Some sanctions took the form of some type of corporal punishment.10 Given the centrality of the cocaleros to the region, they were even able to exert considerable influence on non-members.11

5.3 Relational Constituent Elements

Finally, with regard to relational constituent elements, as the above implies the cocaleros were able to maintain considerable independence throughout this period. This continued “survivability”, what might be described as the grudging acceptance of the cocalero movement’s existence and importance as interlocutor, was the result a confluence of constitutional, institutional, political, cultural, and power-based factors. Constitutionally, the revolution of 1952 ensured labour federations a legal place within Bolivian political life; in the years that followed, virtually all sectors of the formal economy, as well as the countryside, were organized into a diverse array of union structures. Bolivian political norms further buttressed the federations’ independence; corporatist unions constituted an integral part of Bolivian politics, as in other countries in Latin America. They thus acquired the legitimacy that comes with habit widespread and over time. 10 Several respondents mention a role for federation officials in mediating local disputes, and a role for rough music in sanctions for violation of communal norms. 11 One interview participant described a method of punishment, again reminiscent of rough music used to successfully intimidate a non-member resident of the region. (Anon 3)

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At the same time, one must consider the limitations of the state’s capacity to undertake such delegitimization. The state did make efforts to disrupt cocalero unions during the 1990s and early 2000s, but proved unsuccessful in their attempts. In sum, thanks to a combination of de jure, de facto, and normative ideational factors, the cocalero federations were able to persist and indeed grow in power over time.

6. Contention in the Chapare

In 1988 the Movimiento Nacional Revolucionario (MNR) of Víctor Paz Estenssoro government of passed Ley 1008: Ley del Régimen de la Coca y Sustancias Controladas [Law 1008: the Regulation of Coca and Controlled Substances], declaring the Chapare a “zone of transition” in which coca production would eventually be eliminated. While increasingly concerned with state policy regarding coca, it was the formulation and passage of this law that moved them to fully mobilize and coordinate resistance efforts.

The most intense period of confrontation began following the 1997 election of former dictator turned democrat, General Hugo Banzer, and continued under his immediate successors. Deaths, injuries, and detentions became more common from 1998 onwards, as the state actively pursued coca eradication, and the cocaleros persistently organized in opposition to newly constituted and reinforced eradication expeditionary forces that proved more willing to engage in violence than previous state agents in the region. Figure 2, produced using data from Salazar Ortuño et al. (2008: 805) makes clear just how much violence escalated in those final years.

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Figure 2: Contention-related deaths. Source: Salazar Ortuño et al. 2008.

Under Banzer, state strategies varied and in general became more invasive. During this period coca leaders worried increasingly about the threat of assassination, and considered the danger to be extreme.12 DM, an ex-leader of Federation Mamore-Bulo Bulo, described both the fear that came with being in a leadership position, and the precautions it necessitated:

At times we slept in the bush, among the mosquitos. There was no choice of leaving because we were being chased, searched, and I did not sleep in my house. At times, I took my wife, my children out, because I could not sleep in my house. We were all pursued.

Another local leader, RM, tells a similar story.

We had to meet in the hills, next to Senda 6 [a small road outside the town]. Other centrals also did so because during the day the people did not go out. By night only we organized ourselves using passwords to know where we were going to meet nocturnally.

12 A notorious event occurred in 2001 in the shooting death—allegedly by FTE forces—of Casimiro Huanca, then the Secretario ejecutivo (the senior-most official) of the Chimore Federation, during a peaceful protest (Ledebur 2002: 12).

0

5

10

15

20

25

30

1985-1989 1989-1993 1993-1997 1997-2001 2001-2004

Deaths

Year

Civilian State

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While the eradications under Plan Dignidad reduced coca production in the country in 2000 to its lowest observed levels since the 1980s boom, by 2001 the area under production began to increase once again (UNODC 2000, 2002). By 2002, it became clear that repression and forced eradication was failing as a strategy. Confronted with that failure, and beset by problems elsewhere in the country, in 2004 the government effectively conceded the conflict and agreed to the central cocalero demand to be allowed to grow coca legally throughout the Chapare. With that, the conflict effectively ended.

6.1 OCs in Contention: Evaluating the Effects

To review briefly, the primary hypothesis developed here is that the OC structure present in the Chapare region prior to the onset of contention generated distinctive patterns of resistance, including high levels of coordinated contentious political activity, but stopping short of armed resistance. Previous sections described how the cocalero federations constituted Ostromian communities. The present one turns to the question of how that organizing structure shaped the course of contention in the region as the state took a harder line against coca production in response to increasing U.S. pressure. In developing this argument, I present and analyze evidence related to a particular subcase that illustrates with the emergent properties associated with OCs described above, namely a high degree of community cohesiveness, and its ability to engage in “socially rational” decision-making and enforcement.

To make this case, I examine certain aspects of cocalero contention in practice, focusing in particular on how the presence of the OC structure enabled the adoption of socially rational policy—notably, the adoption of a suite of strategies designed to maximize pressure on the government without appearing as a risk sufficiently serious to justify the unrestrained use of force in response—and mobilize significant resources in support of their enactment. Specifically, I examine the organization and deployment of the self-defence committees (SDCs) as a specific example of both the capacity for “social rationality” exhibited by the cocaleros, and further evidence of the federations’ collective ability to rigorously enforce communal decisions once taken and mobilize resources towards chosen ends.

During times of heightened tension, rapid mobilization of the population could be arranged locally through the self-defence and blockade committees that most syndicates formed during periods of increased contestation. Given the need for high levels of participation in order to ensure their success, attendance was both mandatory and enforced. Ultimately, that mix of mandatory participation and contributions organized through locally constituted yet regionally coordinated committees proved both robust and effective. These committees responded to incursions by external actors, most notably by coca eradication squads—leopardos as they were called—attempting to enter a given area and destroy the crops within it without permission from the owner. A committee structure also implemented the blockades, ultimately the most potent weapon in the cocaleros’ organizational arsenal as episodes such as a month-long blockade of the Cochabamba-Santa Cruz highway in 2000 illustrated.

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In combination with formal political participation and nonconventional political resistance, the on-the-ground resistance by the SDCs constituted a crucial third “prong” of cocalero political action. As MAS Senator Julio Salazar described it in an interview,

[They were like] union police, our own form of security. Before, the Chapare was like a small state I would say, almost no one entered without the permission of our federations, lest some spy come in to persecute our leaders, intrude in some way to undo our organizations. Imagine, I say, like a small state, because my government could not enter, only by force, with the army, with the combined forces, with the police and the ecological police.

I argue that the network of SDCs provided cocaleros with a force capable of inflicting significant costs on Bolivian security forces. Thanks to the region-wide insistence on (and respect for) limits on the use of force however, did so in a way that minimized the overall appearance of threat to the Bolivian regime and, by extension, the likelihood of an unrestrained repressive response. Indeed, cocaleros not only continually refused to employ such force, but also vigorously refuted claims from both the state and US envoys that they were engaging in armed resistance, illustrating a clear understanding of the larger strategic situation in which the cocalero community found itself (Prest 2015). It was clearly understood among cocalero leaders that they must not seem threatening to the Bolivian state, or risk provoking an escalatory response from the state leading to more violence and a reduced possibility of success.

In contrast to other examplse of self-defence committees organized in Latin America, the Bolivian cocalero SDCs were remarkable not only because they existed to oppose the state, rather than support it in some war against insurgents, but likewise in the relative peacefulness of their activities. As ML, a local cocalero leader from Carrasco Federation described it,

Our self-defence committee was: us with sticks and them with bullets. It was very unequal; it was not the same. They face with guns and us with sticks, but still there were young people who picked up sticks and nothing else against the military.

All respondents with whom I discussed the subject agreed that the SDCs were explicitly organized within the framework of the larger federation structure, with each union responsible for appointing its own defence or blockade secretary, who liaised with officials at upper levels of the federation structure. Ultimately the committees coordinated at the level of the “coordinadora,” the body responsible for coordinating policy among all six federations. The limits on the use of violence by SDCs, I argue, can be traced directly to their embedding in the larger and prior federation structure, which in turn had mapped out a deliberate set of resistance strategies that did not include armed conflict.

In short, in the face of the potentially atomizing pressures of new wealth accumulation and state coercion, the existing locally embedded cocalero institutions shaped the

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response of residents under pressure, enabling a controlled coordinated response, one that was deliberately integrated within a larger political strategy.

In addition, the sort of independent uncoordinated action in the face of repression, driven by one or more secret cells of resistance that is so often the mark of insurgency elsewhere never took root. Independent political entrepreneurs and violence specialists had little space to operate in the Chapare. The testimony of CL, a one-time organizer of armed resistance in the region, is telling in this regard. He was official in the office of the Vice President Alvaro Garcia Linera at the time of our interview in 2013, CL was previously a member of the revolutionary group Tupac Katari Guerrilla Army (Ejército Guerrilla Tupac Katari, EGTK). The EGTK was a small organization dedicated to violent resistance of the state in pursuit of an indigenous-led nation, which undertook a short-lived campaign of sabotage in the early 1990s. CL trained resistance cadres in the Cochabamba and Chapare region for the EGTK before and even after the group’s leaders—among them Vice President Garcia Linera—had been arrested and incarcerated in 1992, effectively ending the group’s resistance.

Morales, for his part, consistently resisted any attempt to link his leadership with any sort of violent actor in the region, whether EGTK, or armed agents associated with the drug trade. The state ultimately proved unable to provide convincing proof of such linkages, despite claiming repeatedly that the EGTK was active in the Chapare region throughout the 1990s, and cooperating with Evo Morales, by then the face of the cocalero movement.13

Intriguingly, CL confirms that the EGTK was in fact still active, albeit in very modest capacity, in the Chapare in the 1990s. Moreover, while he claims there really was little direct connection between his organization and the formal cocalero hierarchy,14 at the same time CL made clear that there was a level of knowledge and tolerance, even approval of his work among cocalero leadership at the highest level:

Q: Did you have some connection with Don Evo at the time?

CL: Yes, but only as a guarantee, I mean, he actually made contact with us.

Q: Was there any discussion of grand strategy?

CL: Well, yes, at a very global level, that armed struggle ought to be initiated. Overall, in general terms of armed struggle and the discussion of what work we

13 For instance, during a period of tension in 1994, government officials repeatedly attempted to link Morales and other cocalero leaders with administrators of an Italian NGO, Rayos del Sol, who had been deported for “subversive activities,” including alleged connections with members of the EGTK. Hoy, “Dirigentes cocaleros recibían ayuda de italianos subversivos,” 17 August 1994. The evidence supposedly included correspondence linking Morales with the Rayos del Sol employees, and a photo of the latter standing with a convicted member of the EGTK. 14 As he put it, he liaised only with the leaders of specific syndicates and centrals, based upon personal relationships with individuals involved. If so, it is no wonder that the state could find little evidence of direct coordination, for little such coordination took place, and never at the level of coordinadora, the maximal level of cocalero leadership.

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had implemented, and his acceptance [of that] on his part. Fundamentally [there was] endorsement, acceptance, because without that acceptance we could have been denounced immediately. Definitely we would have had the coca compañeros against us, or they could have treated us as narco-trafficking groups… they could have tipped an UMOPAR in that zone looking for narcos.

Thus, cocalero leaders were able to exercise a level of control over the activities even of would-be armed actors over which the federation hierarchy had no formal control, and with which it lacked a formal relationship, thanks to their ability and willingness to use the resources available to the federations to disrupt activities perceived to be counter to cocaleros’ interests.

In sum, as with other aspects of resistance, the cocaleros used the established institutional architecture to organize their operational opposition to state incursions in the region. That structure in turn ensured that any use of force was embedded within, and ultimately in the service of a larger political strategy. That embedding had decisive implications for the (lack of) armed resistance in the region over the course of decades of contention, in the face of significant and prolonged threats to lives and livelihoods.

7. Conclusion and Contributions

The presence of the existing solutions to collective action problems described above provided a natural structure for subsequent efforts to organize the SDCs and blockade committees described above. Likewise, it ensured that the burden of mobilizing was shared broadly, whether the need was funding marchers, guarding barricades, or simply attending meetings. All contributed; all played their part, or faced sanction. The combination served to maintain a high level of organization and mobilization, while avoiding any irrevocable move towards an escalation in violence.

Beyond the immediate value that arises from the careful explanation of an important, yet understudied case of non-violent contention, this article makes several discrete contributions to the study of civil conflict and related scholarly traditions. Through the development of the novel general concept of the Ostromian community, the argument described in detail below furthers the study of conflict in a number of ways:

First, in expanding the focus beyond cases of conflict to include the close reading of a case in which violent conflict was eminently possible yet did not occur—a negative case, or a dog that did not bark—the research contributes to a better understanding of the full universe of relevant cases, correcting an ongoing selection bias in the study of conflict (Mahoney and Goertz 2004). Second, the comparative study of Ostromian communities and other forms of collective action furthers the social turn described above by providing a causally significant, widely occurring, and easily recognizable ontological point of reference around which one may construct a general “meso level” theory of peace and conflict.

Third, the case sheds new light on a lingering question in the civil conflict literature regarding the relationship between state repressive capacities and activities and the

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emergence or avoidance of armed conflict. Specifically, it provides an illustration of how non-state actors with sufficient institutional resources can and do actively develop strategies intended to lessen the risk of repression, reducing the likelihood of an escalation to either one-sided violence or armed conflict as a result.

Finally, by establishing new theoretical connections between positive local development outcomes and security outcomes, the study speaks to questions of conflict prevention and management, and does so in a way that highlights the agency of local actors. As such, its findings will have relevance to both security and development policy communities. Events of the past decade have driven home just how problematic and limited international intervention in civil conflict can be. Accordingly, the prevention of such conflict takes on even greater normative weight, and any work that meaningfully adds to our understanding of how such conflicts may be avoided constitutes a significant and worthwhile endeavour.

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