Professional Documents
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Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, Molly Geidel
Qui Parle: Critical Humanities and Social Sciences, Volume 18, Number
2, Spring/Summer 2010, pp. 29-54 (Article)
Published by University of Nebraska Press
DOI: 10.1353/qui.0.0014
This article attempts to undertake a reading of gender as it operates in Bolivias juridical history, in order to propose some issues
of debate that I consider pertinent to any discussion of the rights
of indigenous peoples and their close ties, at least as I see them,
to the rights of women (whether indigenous, cholas, birlochas,
or refinadas).1 First I focus on the masculine and lettered aspects
of the juridical process that has produced the documents known
as the Laws of the Republic. In Europe both the law and the modern historical formation of what is known as public space are
anchored in the ideals of the Renaissance and the Enlightenment,
whereby the rebirth of the human being was implicitly imagined
as a masculine Universal Subject, who was by nature a bearer of
rights. Up to now the notion of human rights means nothing more than what were known as the rights of man (droits de
lhomme) in the eighteenth century. Jacques Derrida and Judith
Butler have noted this conflation, writing of a phallogocentric
version of the modern Subject, the enlightened heterosexual individual.2 This representation of the modern individual has been inscribed in European history and imposed on the rest of the world
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over the course of the last two centuries through multiple processes
of political, military, and cultural hegemony.
In Bolivia the initial act of colonization was gendered: the very
idea of rights arrived already tainted by the subordination (formal
and real) of women in the household, governed by the pater familias. Rossana Barragn has illustrated how, during the early Republic, the Bolivian legislators copied and adapted a Victorian model
of the family, transposing it onto a much older matrix of habitus
and representations.3 This new hegemonic ideal of family relations
prescribed that (1) men act as the sole public representatives of
the family, subordinating wife and children under their authority; (2) women dedicate themselves exclusively to reproductive and
decorative tasks, and thus become alienated, their agency denied,
their public voices silenced (thus, the idea of public women became a cruel semiotic paradox, implying that the only public
action a woman could perform was the marketing of her own sex);
and (3) adolescents and children remain subject to the hierarchical
authority of adults, principally of the father.
The liberal reforms instituted at the end of the nineteenth century only reinforced this patriarchal imaginary, reinstating it with
new laws and behavioral codes. These reforms codified a notion
of human rights based on the subjugation of women, instituting
and upholding restrictions, legal elisions, and archaisms, as well
as a myriad of daily practices that ended up in the denial of the
very notion of human rights to the female sex. For example, under the new liberal laws, the typical penalty for domestic violence
led to the punishment of the perpetrator only if the victim had
suffered at least thirty days of hospitalization or convalescence!4
Through legislative measures, the liberals further consolidated the
institutionalized inequality of property and inheritance rights that
had been imposed by the colonizers: practices like primogeniture,
unequal status between legitimate and illegitimate children, and
patrilineal inheritance were thus consolidated by the independent
state.5 Moreover, while juridical rhetoric recognized the equality of
the Indian in 1874, the structure of the republican habitus continued to function through the invisible axis of the two republics
(one of the subjects, the other of the citizens).6 As a matter of fact,
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These changes in Andean practices indicate the slow incorporation of a hegemonic family model into the fabric of indigenous
community life, as well as the rapid change of behaviorsdemographic, social, and culturalthat these communities have experienced in the latter half of the twentieth century as a result of their
incomplete and illusory participation in Bolivian modernity. The
modernization process as a whole has meant a deepened patriarchalization of indigenous societies, as they live out the widening
gap between state law and a motley communal law constructed
through successive negotiations and tensions between the sacred
realm of rights and the legal norms imposed by the colonial and
republican regimes. This situation constantly degrades the economic conditions for the majority of the population (a process expressed in post-adjustment reformist jargon as the feminization
or indianization of poverty), so that precarious labor conditions
and market inequalities go hand in hand with political dispossession and human rights violations. These historic and continuing
dislocations, along with the attempts to reassert indigenous and
communal rights, provide a framework for articulating the present
condition of women and Indians.
A Male and Lettered Society: The Struggles
for Land and Territory
I have elaborated elsewhere that the model of citizenship that became hegemonic in Bolivia from the 1950s onward was in fact
a cultural package of behavioral prescriptions designed to turn
the unruly but passive Indian into an active mestizo citizen:
property-owning, integrated into the capitalist market, and castilianized (speaking Spanish). Invariably, this citizen was an urban
young male, dressed in a tailored suit, imitating the behavior of the
Westernized elite.10 The initial version of this modernization project
was expressed in the Law of Expropriation (Ley de Exvinculacin),
which held that the only citizen right vested in adult Indian men
was the right to sell their families access to communal lands. After
the laws approval by the government of Toms Fras in October
1874, old and new hacendados (estate owners) proceeded to ex-
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pand their haciendas (large estates with servile labor) with the help
of the army and mercenary forces recruited in rural towns, using
the letter of the law to hide the brutal nature of their forced confiscation of Indian land. The section of the law that most severely
impacted the ayllus internal authority system was the declaration
that communities or ayllos (sic) were to be extinguished and
that caciques, kuraqas, or other ethnic authorities were prohibited
from representing their communities in court.11 Instead, a power
of attorney (poder general) was to be given to literate apoderados, middlemen empowered to voice the complaints and demands
of the affected communities. Craftily combining translation and
betrayal, the early apoderados facilitated the expropriation of almost two-thirds of the land possessed by the Andean communities
in western Bolivia. In the province of Pacajes alone, more than seventy thousand hectares were illegally transferred from the ayllus to
the haciendas between 1881 and 1920.12
The study of the indigenous legal struggles during the liberal
period reveals the traces of an ancestral system of rights and notions of justice that legitimated the indigenous leaderships tenacious questioning of the liberal lawslaws that superimposed the
notion of human rights onto the colonial legal horizon and the
pre-Hispanic normative and religious orderat local and national
courts.13 The colonial legislation recognized a certain degree of ayllu autonomy and self-government, based in the Spanish notion of
separate fueros or jurisdictions, whereby the overall relations between Indians and Spaniards were regulated. In the Leyes de Indias
these norms were expressed through the notion of the two republics.14 According to this legal frame, which continued in practice
if not in name after the liberal reforms, the indigenous society was
a separate but subordinate republic. As constructed collectively in
the legal discourse, Indians were the inhabitants of a conquered
space, the subjects of a colonial state that deprived them of rights
and overburdened them with obligations. However, during the liberal period, the lettered elite of the communities and ayllus also
used the notion of the two republics as a strategy for land defense
and political autonomy. They defended the organizational autonomy of the ayllus, markas, and indigenous communities by using
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indigenous control. We can only hope that those interested in understanding these results will not solely be the loggers and corporations that swarm these forests.
We are now able to elaborate fully the idea that informs this
section. The Censos de Poblacin y Vivienda (Cenuses of Population and Housing) of 1976 and 1992, and the Censo Indgena de
Tierras Bajas, the two principal political state instruments in the
area of population and development, subtly influenced the formation of the literate public opinion in Bolivia in the very definition
of the nature and scope of the notion of indigenous rights. In
this way, though the censuses have documented the well-known
growth in bilingual urban and rural populations, the Educational
Reform focuses principally on monolingual communities that are
isolated in rural areas and is able to ignore the demands for linguistic recuperation that support intercultural and bilingual education
for all. In the same way, the Popular Participation Act (1994) did
not recognize indigenous territories consolidated at the beginning
of 1990 and indirectly excluded those ethnic organizations from
participating in urban municipal reforms (monopolized by the Juntas Vecinales, or urban neighborhood councils). In the traditional
Andean zones, the demands of federations of ayllus and of other
groups organized around ethnicity were blocked by political parties and development nongovernmental organizations (NGOs).23
Finally, indigenous women are further alienated by this space of
mediation in which literate culture, Western notions of development, and patron-client politics impose a patriarchal political culture in which they figure solely as symbolic elements of transaction
within dominant (male) strategies of power.
Thus the states narrative of indigeneity, via the census information and through the unconscious desires of the dominant minority, represents the Indians as a diminishing entity, with indigenous
languages in blatant and quick deterioration and with the rural
world persistently depopulating. All of these factors contributed to
narrow the consciousness as a majority that informed the political
consolidation of the Kataristas and Indianistas, who in the 1990s
began to acquire a minority consciousness.24 During the last two
decades of the twentieth century, the diminishing representation of
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the demographic potential and autonomous politicization of indigenous communities was translated into a loss of historical memory,
an erosion of cultural self-esteem, and a series of subaltern characteristics that led them to occupy a subordinated role in the public
sphere, thus perpetuating their discrimination and exclusion.
The New Indianity and the Plurinational State Reforms
Intense mobilizations of indigenous and popular sectors began in
2000 and continued with varying intensity until the overthrow of
interim president Carlos Mesa G. and the call for new elections
for December 2005. This complex and convulsive process revealed
the collapse of neoliberal promises of equity and market democracy, and the emerge of a new style of ethnicity politics, represented
by the powerful coca producers movement in the Chapare and
the leadership of Aymara union leader Evo Morales. These processes also bear the imprint of deeper trends in population movements and ideological identifications. As we can see in the 2001
census, the linguistic indicators of ethnicity were supplemented by
self-identification, a trend thatcontrary to the expectations of the
census designersconfirmed and expanded the recuperation of a
majority status. Speakers of a native languagewhether monolingual or bilingualhad slightly increased to become 49% of the
total population, but in spite of an accelerated urbanization process, the self-identification with one or other native people rose to
62% of the population. Ethnicity, no doubt, had become a contentious political arena, and its state effect was to reverse the trend of
marginalization that was so blatant during the neoliberal reforms
of the 1980s and 1990s. But on the other hand the predominance
of partisan politics, including the MAS (Movement toward Socialism, led by Evo Morales) has narrowed and subordinated Indian
demands and turned them into cultural inputs to the new mestizo
elite revolutionary project, which partially incorporated them into
the new laws, in the restricted form of Indigenous Autonomies,
enclosed in thirty-six TCOs (Original Community Lands) recognized by the new Agrarian Reform Act (Ley INRA) and the new
Political Constitution of the Plurinational State (February 2009).
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productive labor and enterprise does not enjoy social respect and
recognition, eclipsed by the avatars of the migration adventure of
men, as the classic study by Alb et al. showed some three decades
ago.29 As Lucila Criales has documented, women resist this patriarchal model by returning to the countryside, where they convert
the patron saint celebration and its mark of origin into a fleeting
scenario of feminine empowerment, extravagantly spending money and accumulating symbolic prestige. These acts both legitimate
and compensate for the profound inequalities of everyday life,
where the shortcomings and sufferings they experience as cholas
earn them the cultural contempt of the dominant urban society.30
Until now, no indigenous organization has reclaimed these settings
as terrains of struggle, and there is no notion of indigenous rights
that applies to these women, who in the state imaginary exist only
as mestizas.
It is possible to observe the same phenomenon from a different angle by reviewing the history of labor union formation in the
valleys of Cochabamba in the decades following the revolution of
1952 and the agrarian reform of 1953.31 This history confirms the
systematic exclusion of women from the new public spaces constructed in the heat of unionization and the political mobilization
of the peasantry (sindicatos campesinos). Both in Mizque and in
Tiraque, the political process unleashed by agrarian mobilization
ended up blocking the entrance of women to the public sphere and
converting the labor unions, armed militias, and other organisms
into spaces of state patron-client relations and masculine mediation. Paradoxically, it was the secular mercantile and social activity of the women of Cochambambaselling chicha, engaging in
long-distance trade and other activitiesthat permitted the men
to dedicate the majority of their time to union organization and
party politics.32 The exaltation of the chichera (chicha bar) and
of the maternal virtues of the women (across the urban-rural continuum of mestizaje) as well as the popular myth of matriarchy
prevalent in the valleys, demonstrates the perversity of the lettered
image of the citizen and its real consequences for women: when it
came to the relentless exploitation of mothers and grandmothers,
the unionist and itinerant workers of the valleys consented to a
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their gender and ethnicity. While situations like the low level of
salaries for domestic work, the duplication of the burden of labor
by women who are heads of households, and selective emigration
affect indigenous communities in diverse regions of the country as
much as their migratory flow to the cities, these populations have
yet to find a space for their demands within ethnic organizations.
These organizations have confined their demands to a definition
of collective rights based on territory, which, paradoxically, limits the very demands of indigenous populations that live outside
these narrowly defined spaces. While salutary in the moment in
which it emerged, the indigenous struggle for territory has been
an important site of interpellation to the Bolivian state. Nevertheless we continue to believe that the issue of dignity has not been
addressed in full, as it is expressed in a plurality of contexts, both
urban and rural, in which ethnicity is associated with the loss of
prestige and lack of fulfillment of human rights. The territorialization of indigenous rights has prevented indigenous women and
their communities from escaping the ethnic straightjacket embedded in the liberal conception of rights, a discourse that produced
a narrow literate and masculine space that erases numerous questions of human and citizenship rights implicit in the practices of
indigenous mobilizations.
Perhaps it is because neither the state nor indigenous organizations have taken up a politics of ethnicity capable of presenting
alternatives for women that they have been unable to sufficiently
advance the gains achieved by the recognition of the multiethnic
character of the nation in the new Constitucin Poltica del Estado
and other similar measures.34 In the same way, as long as indigenous
organizations do not recognize female migrantswho work in the
degraded conditions of middle-class urban homesas members of
their people and communities, their own notion of rights will remain limited and fragmented. As long as ethnic organizations are
not capable of facing the phenomena of gendered oppression that
is unleashed by the emigration of male labor force to the city or
to the zafra, and the increasingly extended problem of indigenous
households led by women, the notion of human rights will remain
empty rhetoric.35 If this is the case, we will have contributed to the
prolongation of the states aspiration to transform the consciousness of a Bolivian indigenous majority held in the 1980s into a
consciousness of a minority that lives only off the crumbs of development and the unequal ecological and economic transactions
within the mestizo-dominated power structure, which has not substantially changed with the recent electoral events leading to the
ascent of the first indigenous president. The implicit corollary to
this entire argument points to the need for a simultaneous decolonization of both gender and indigeneity, of the quotidian and the
political, by way of a theory and a practice that links alternative
and pluralist notions of citizenship rights with rights inhering in
traditional indigenous laws and customs, as much in legislation as
in the everyday and private practices of the people.
Notes
1. The term cholo/a is used in Bolivia, generally, to refer to indigenous
people who have emigrated to urban areas and live somewhere between the cultural spaces of mestizo and indigenous identity. The term
birlocha refers specifically to chola women who adopt the dress style
and customs of what Rivera refers to in jest as the refinadas, the upperclass and formally educated women associated with urban spaces.
2. See the preface to Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the
Subversion of Identity (London: Routledge, 1990).
3. Rossana Barragn, El espritu de la modernidad boliviana: Ciudadana, infamia y jerarqua patriarcal, paper given at the Seminar on
Nation, Ethnicity and Citizenship, organized by Sephis (South-South
Exchange Programme for Research on the History of Development),
New Delhi, February 68, 1996. Hereafter cited as EM.
4. It is hard to believe that this law remained in force until the 1995
reforms.
5. Juridical norms like the patria potestad are the living incarnation of
an even more archaic and patriarchal law, implicit in the multiple
normative products of colonial Catholicism, as has been shown by
Barragn in EM.
6. The notion of habitus has been used here in the sense proposed by
Pierre Bourdieu in El Sentido Prctico, trans. lvaro Pazos (Barcelona: Taurus, 1991). Published in English as The Logic of Practice,
trans. Richard Nice (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990).
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7. The ayllu was the basic political and social unit since precolonial
times. It refers to a (sometimes discontinuous) territory where people
are tied together through kinship and symbolic networks. It encompasses religious, symbolic, and inheritance practices peculiar to the
people who belong to it. It loosely could translate as community in
English but goes well beyond the meaning of this term.
8. See Denise Arnold and Juan de Dios Yapita, Aspectos de gnereo en
Qaqachaka: Maternidad, textiles y prcticas textuales alternativas en
los Andes, in Ser mujer indgena, chola o birlocha en la Bolivia postcolonial de los 90, ed. Silvia Rivera (La Paz: Subsecretara de Asuntos
de Gnero, Ministerio de Desarrollo Humano, 1996). This edited volume is cited hereafter as SM.
9. Compare with Denise Arnold, Hacer al hombre a imagen de ella:
Aspectos de gnero en los textiles de Qaqachaka, Chungar: Revista
de Antropologa Chilena 26.1 (1994): 79115.
10. See, for example, Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, Mestizaje colonial andino: Una hiptesis de trabajo, in Violencias encubiertas en Bolivia,
vol. 1: Cultura y poltica, ed. Xavier Alb and Ral Barrios (La Paz:
CIPCA, 1993) and Zulema Lehm and Silvia Rivera, Los artesanos libertarios y la tica del trabajo (La Paz: Ediciones del THOA, 1988).
11. Caciques and kuraqas refer to leaders of indigenous ayllus who held
local political power in the time of the Inka. Though this power was
severely eroded in the colonial period, it remained substantially strong
until the liberal reforms of the late nineteenth century.
12. See, for example, Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, La expansin del latifundio en el Altiplano boliviano: Elementos para la caracterizacin
de una oligarqua regional, Avances 2 (1978).
13. Taller de Historia Oral Andina (THOA), El indio Santos Marka
Tula, cacique principal de los ayllus de Qallapa y apoderado general
de las comunidades originarias de la Repblica (La Paz, Ediciones
del THOA, 1988), hereafter cited as IS; Carlos Mamani, Taraqu
18661935: Masacre, guerra y renovacin en la biografa de Eduardo L. Nina Qhispi (La Paz: Aruwiyiri, 1991), hereafter cited as
TM; Leandro Condori and Esteban Ticona, El escribano de los caciques apoderados, Karikinakan Purirarunakan Qillqiripa (La Paz:
HISBOL-THOA, 1992).
14. See Frank Salomon, Ancestor Cults and Resistance to the State in
Arequipa, 17481754, in Resistance, Rebellion, and Consciousness
in the Andean Peasant World, 16th to 20th Centuries, ed. Steve Stern
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987); see also Juan Flix
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
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26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
Etnicidad, economa y simbolismo en los Andes: II Congreso Internacional de Etnohistoria, Coroico, ed. Silvia Arze, Rossana Barragn,
Laura Escobari, and Ximena Medinacelli (La Paz: HISBOL/IFEA/
SBH-ASUR, 1992).
See SM and Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, Diferencia complementariedad y lucha anticolonial: Enseanzas de la historia andina (hereafter
cited as DC) in 500 aos de patriarcado en el Nuevo Mundo, Clara
Leyla Alfonso (Santo Domingo: CIPAF/Red Entre Mujeres, 1992).
Elizabeth Peredo, Recoveras de los Andes: La identidad de la chola
del mercado: una aproximacin psicosocial (La Paz: ILDI-TAHIPAMU, 1992).
These terms (desprecio escalonado and exclusiones escalonadas in
Spanish) come from Tierry Saignes, Los Andes Orientales: Historia
de un olvido (Cochabamba: CERES, 1985) and SM, respectively.
Xavier Alb, Toms Greaves, and Godofredo Sandval, Chukiyawu,
la cara ayamra de La Paz, vol. 1: El paso a la ciudad (La Paz: CIPCA,
1981).
Lucila Criales, Mujer y conflictos socio-culturales: El caso de las
migrantes de Caquiaviri en la ciudad de La Paz (La Paz: Aruwiyiri,
1994).
Mara Laura Lagos, Autonoma y poder: Dinmica de Clase y Cultura en Cochabamba (La Paz: Plural, 1997), as well as Susan Paulson,
Familias que no conyugan e identidades que no conjugan: La vida
en Mizque desafa nuestras categoras, in SM.
Chicha is an alcoholic drink made from fermented corn or other
grains, used for ritual purposes by the Incas, and consumed ritually
and socially throughout the Andean region today.
ILDIS-CEDLA, Informe Social Bolivia: Balance de indicadores sociales (La Paz: ILDIS-CEDLA, 1994).
The notion of Indigenous Rights was first introduced in the 1994 Political Constitution of the Bolivian State and was further expanded in
the recent constitutional text approved in early 2009.
The zafra is the sugar cane harvest. In the last decades this migratory process is increasingly oriented toward other countries, such as
Argentina, Brazil, and Spain.