The discursive dimensions of the Coca Leaf: Political Ritualised Practices in Bolivia

Pablo Andrés Rivero1

Coca is a native plant to the Andean region in Latin America. It has been cultivated, traded
and consumed for centuries, however in the last decades these dynamics have been
changing in various aspects. It will be discussed a theoretical and empirical research on
how the coca leaf operates as a discursive ‘artefact’ in contemporary Bolivian socio-
political events. It will be put forward how coca is constructed and reinvented, but
essentially employed as a device in political ritualised practices.

The
cultivation of coca2 is an ancient practice in South America. Although there is not a common
agreement in terms of dates and locations, a number of authors argue that the coca leaf –a native
plant to the Andes region– has been both cultivated and consumed by indigenous people for 2 or
3 thousand years in the highlands and central and Southern Andean valleys (Mamani 2006;
Plowman 1986; Rivera 2003; Spedding 2003). Authors acknowledge that the different uses and
meanings of the coca leaf are part of the collective memory of indigenous peoples of the Andes,
before the Spanish arrival (known as pre-colonial epoch), during the colonial period, and
throughout the republicanism remaining present these days.

Generally speaking, the coca leaf is mostly ‘traditionally’ consumed in the Southern Andes by
people from indigenous backgrounds as in a ‘traditional’ custom –known as ‘coca chewing’– and
for miners, peasants, construction workers, and other labourers in both rural and urban areas
alike (Mamani 2006; Spedding 2003). Slide 2

According to Governmental reports, in 2009 the legal production of coca reached 12 thousand
hectares approximately, although this figure is challenged by US Drug Enforcement
Administration that estimates over 20 thousand (La Razón 2009). For the year 2010, the
production of coca is estimated to be reached 32 thousand hectares.

Since 1950, the coca leaf has been broadly studied and addressed from another striking aspect; it
is the raw material for the production of cocaine base and then cocaine hydrochloride3,
internationally penalised by the 1961 UN Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs. Nevertheless,
the production, hoard and commercialisation of coca in its natural state, although controlled and
regulated by governmental institutions, are legal activities in Bolivia. Moreover, the licit

1 Lecturer and Researcher at Nuestra Señora de La Paz University (La Paz- Bolivia)
2 Botanically known as Erythroxylum coca, there are around 250 species in the South American Andes region, but ‘the wide-
ranging and economically important Andean variety E. coca var. coca […] often referred as “Bolivian” or “Huanuco” coca’
(Plowman 1986: 11) will be considered for this research and called simply coca or coca leaf.
3UNODC World drug Report 2009, available electronically
at:http://www.hoffmanpr.com/world/UNODC/WorldDrugReport2009.pdf
commercialisation of this product goes beyond Bolivian borders reaching the south-east of Peru
as well as the northern provinces of Argentina, where it is also ‘traditionally’ consumed (Rivera,
2003).

Beyond its intrinsic trading features, I have been researching and observing the coca leaf as a
‘deliverer’, Slide 3 a natural product that has progressively been ‘acquiring’, ‘carrying’ and
reproducing historical, productive, cultural, ritual, symbolic, mythical, social, economic,
ideological, and political meanings. Especially in recent years, the coca leaf has been ideological
and culturally-political employed as a discursive artefact that intervenes as part of political
changes in Bolivia, the poorest South American country where the majority of the population is
considered to be indigenous4 but historically ruled by wealthy urban-mestizo landowners elites
(Rivera 2003, 1986; Stefanoni 2003).

A remarkable event happened in January 2006 when, after several politically unstable years,
such elites were challenged by a rather sui generis political movement allowing Evo Morales, the
undisputed leader of the coca growers unions and the Movement towards Socialism (MAS-
IPSP5), to became the first president of indigenous origins in Latin America by winning the
general election with almost 54%, an unprecedented electoral victory in the fragmented Bolivian
party system (Stefanoni & do Alto 2006; do Alto 2008). Furthermore, the leadership of Morales
the MAS has recently been confirmed by winning a consecutive second term in office supported
by 64% of the votes6.

Theoretic approach

[Slide] I would like to propose a brief theoretical approximation that helps to explain the
complexity of social processes by which objects become ‘artefacts’ that acquire meanings, and
then are employed as material forms of discourse and political ritualised practices.

Stuart Hall defines representation as ‘the production of the meaning of the concepts in our minds
through language’ (Hall 1997: 17). Meaning is the product of the relationship between language
and concepts that humans bestow to everything that belongs to both the ‘real’ world as well as
the ‘imagined’ and invented one (ibid). Therefore, the production of meaning involves two core

4 There are number anthropological debates around this definition. Nevertheless, indigenous is employed here as the
description of peoples who inhabit today’s Bolivian territory before Spanish arrival (1540 approx.). The biggest ethnic groups in
Bolivia are Aymarans, Quechuans, Guaranies, Mosetens and many others, reaching 34 groups in total, today recognised by the
Constitution. In the 2001 National Census a question of ethnical pertinence was included. It asked the population to assist on
whether they considered themselves belonging to an indigenous group. 62% out of the total population over 15 years said they
belong to one of ethnic groups living in the territory (Data source, Bolivian Statistics National Institute: www.ine.org.bo).
However, it should not be taken for granted absolutist conceptualisations as the social mixing process began even in the
Colonial period.
5 This is the acronym for ‘Movimiento al Socialismo – Instrumento Político para la Soberanía de los Pueblos’ (Movement
towards Socialism – Political Instrument for the Sovereignty of the Peoples). This political force is detailed explored by Do Alto
(2008).
6 Bolivian Electoral National Court (Corte Nacional Electoral). Official results act. Document online, available at:
http://www.cne.org.bo/PadronBiometrico/COMUNICACION/ACTADECOMPUTONACIONALGENERALES2009.pdf
aspects: firstly, a shared language, and secondly a social environment where ‘things’, concepts
and signs, altogether interacting, produces what Hall calls ‘representation’ (ibid: 18-9).

Hall expands his statement by arguing that the process of meaning is an active practice that is
neither fixed nor innate to ‘things’, it is constructed, produced. ‘Things don’t mean: we construct
meaning, using representational systems – concepts and signs’ (ibid: 25). This is not denying the
material existence of objects, people, events and so on. On the contrary, representation is, in fact,
a practice ‘which uses material objects and effects. But the meaning depends, not on the material
quality of the sign, but on its symbolic function. (ibid: 26-7).

But, it is worth wondering how objects, or better artefacts, operate as material carriers of systems
of representations incorporated within the discursive action, in order to challenge power
relations? Artefacts, in plain language are ‘things’, tools. However, the concept introduced by
Russian psychologist Lev Vygotsky in early 20th century and developed by Evald Ilyenkov
(1977) refers to artefacts as objects, either created or not by humans, which are used in social
practices (Burkitt 1999; Burr 2003). ‘Because artefacts play a mediating role in human activity
they acquire meaning within the social group. […] Artefacts are, then, extensions of bodily
practices and the social contexts in which they function’ (Burkitt 1998: 127-8).

Consequently, what is understood by political ritualised practices? And, what is the relationship
between such practices and the power relations?

‘Ritual’, understood under a classical structuralist view of Gluckman, is ‘highly conventionalised

performances’ in which intervene ‘mystical means outside of sensory observation and control’
(Gluckman 1965: 251). Durkhemian thought understand religious practices, such as rituals, as
means to express social reality as well as both project solidarity and reaffirm identities
(Baringhorst 2004: 291-2). However, dramatising in political discourse, as Taran (2000) argues,
creates a significant dimension for mythical thinking. Dramatisation becomes essential
component of political myth because is perceived as the ‘result of the struggle between different
forces. Good versus evil; sacred versus profane; pure versus impure’ (Montero 1995: 52 in Taran
2000: 127).

Rituals could be very useful categories for analysing the power relations within any society.
Thus, Kertzer challenges structuralist positions that portray political ritual as uniquely functional
for reinforcing an elitist status quo by arguing that political ritual could be crucial to reaction, but
it is also an essential resource of revolution (Kertzer 1988: 2).

[Slide] Ritual could be understood as ‘as symbolic behaviour that is socially standardised and
repetitive’ (ibid: 9). An important differentiation is that if an event enjoys of standardised and
repetitive action but lacks of symbolism, then it should be consider a habit or custom, but not
ritual (ibid). Hence, the articulation of standardised practices, repetition and symbolism is
mediated by two striking performative features: ambiguity and dramatisation (Fischer-Lichte
2005: 33-6; Kertzer 1988: 70). This composition produces a ritualised action in which a
particular ‘performance’ or ‘performer’ make sense of a certain reality; the world is
re/constructed by linking the past to the present and the present to the future, and by employing
powerful emotions in order to reaffirm, contest or disguise relationships in a social and political
environment given (Grewe and Müller 2006:13; Kertzer 1988: 9-10).

Yet, a crucial element that Kertzer’s work does not develop sufficiently is the relationship
between such practices and language, the discursive action. In this matter, Lincoln (1989) states
that change is produced when groups or individuals ‘employ thought and discourse, including
even such modes as myth and ritual, as effective instruments of struggle’ (Lincoln 1989: 7).
Lincoln asserts that both myth and ritual could be identified as an ‘authoritative mode of
symbolic discourse’ and as instruments that appeal to sentiments out of which is every society is
constructed and reconstructed (Lincoln 1989: 53). The differences between ritual discourse and
mythical discourse ‘are in large measure a matter of genre, ritual discourse being primarily
gestural and dramatic; mythic discourse, verbal and narrative’ (ibid).

The social construction of artefacts comes from a process in which objects acquire meanings,
neither fixed nor innate, but rather socially imagined and collectively constructed by practices
that respond to the social contexts from which they come and where they have a role. The coca
leaf could be distinguished as a complex cultural artefact that mediates peoples’ collective
memories, narratives, practices, socio-political collective experiences in the past and the present,
economic relations, and so forth. These features ‘embodied’ in the plant are, more than a symbol,
a powerful instrument for political ritualisation that is employed as an ambiguous and complex
communicative deliverer that challenges power relations.

Historic dimension

[Slide] The cultivation of coca7 is an ancient practice in the South American Andes. Historical
researches identified various mentions of coca as a valuable product in the region during the
early years of the Spanish colonisation. ‘Coca uses at the time of the colonisation were probably
restricted to the ritual sphere, medicinal and in some exceptions such as in the case of Chasquis*
for the stamina and physical vitality required to reach the next post’ (Díaz 2008: 167 Author’s
translation). However, as Carter and Mamani (1986) mention, the consumption of coca leaf
increased after the fall of the Inca Empire, an event in this region that is directly related to the
discovery of huge silver and gold mines in 1572, and the consequent flourishing of intensive
production, in which coca was provided to indigenous miners who spent long shifts inside the
mine (Carter and Mamani 1986: 72). This triggered perhaps the first conflict related to coca in
recorded history confronting the Inquisition, that pointed out the leaf ritual connotation, and
therefore, its ‘diabolic’ features, with the colonial interest for improving miners’ production
through its already recognized energizing properties (Díaz 2008: 169-70).

7 Botanically known as Erythroxylum coca, there are around 250 species, but ‘the wide-ranging and economically
important Andean variety E. coca var. coca […] often referred as “Bolivian” or “Huanuco” coca’ is considered here
(Plowman 1986: 11).
Coca was produced in haciendas and consumed in mines by indigenous, but the gross surplus
from those activities was kept in creoles’ coffers (Rivera 2003: 123, author’s translation).

[Slide] The coca leaf, in the long term memory has been an essential element of indigenous and
workers daily life, enjoys a complexly constructed ‘sacred’ quality bestowed by a number of
rituals and beliefs among Andean cultures and also is symbolically linked to the indigenous
struggle against the Spanish colonial domination (Rivera 1984 in Tapia 2000). Some authors
argue colonial structures ‘survived’ and recomposed themselves through the ‘post-colonialist’
republic led by creoles elites that have held political and economic power (Tapia 2000).

The historical turning point is not the independence and later advent of the Republic in 1825, but
the National Revolution of April 1952, featuring the short-term memory. The 1952 ‘Revolución
Nacional’ is this event that bestowed at first the inclusion of the masses in the national state
spectrum by leading decisive transformations8 (Mesa et al. 1997: 602-4).

Ideologically, the National Revolution challenged what its leaders called oligarchies reproducing
exploitative, ‘colonial’ and ‘anti-national’ relations and addressed the Revolutionary Nationalism
as the integrating factor of indigenous, workers and intellectuals, who ‘met and fight together’
decades before and for the first time in the Chaco War, aiming to reconfigure the socio-political
map and trigger the ‘truly national modernisation’ (Tapia 2000).

What is remarkable here is that, out of the National Revolution as ‘National Project’, the socio-
political form of organisation and collective both action and struggle is based essentially on the
Union as politico-institutional entity; this will be not only applicable for workers –miners, in
particular– but also for a resultant ideological construction: indigenous/peasant (Do Alto 2008,
Zavaleta 1986). Nevertheless, it is important to keep seeing Bolivian social fabric from what
Zavaleta identifies as ‘variegate society’, which means an overlapping condition where various
types of society, various civilizations coexist inarticulately in the same territory, establishing
relations of domination and resulting in a multi-societal country with a monoculture state (Tapia,
2002 in Stefanoni, 2003: 62).

After 18 years of recurrent military coup d'états among ephemeral democratic efforts (1964-
1982), the fragile return to democracy, led by a left-wing coalition, could not cope with two
major obstacles: hyperinflation9 and political pressure from right-wing parties – who controlled
the parliament – and unions, especially miners – alike. The relationship of these events with this
research is found in two unrelated but complementary episodes: ‘Firstly, strong drought in the
highlands in 1983 that forced hundreds of Aymara families to migrate to lower lands searching
for survival, among them Evo Morales’s family. Secondly, Supreme Decree 21060 [of August
1985, adopted by the newly established right-wing government] that dismantled the state-owned
mining company and ‘relocalised10’ twenty thousand miners, many of whom migrated to the
8 See Appendix B
9 Inflation reached 22,000% in July 1985.
10 This term has been discursively employed in order to justify the mass dismissal of workers.
tropics of Cochabamba where coca production experienced a steady growth’ (Stefanoni & Do
Alto 2006: 22; 40, author’s translation).

In fact, this steady growth of coca demand occurred since the early 1970s especially in Chapare
the so-called excedentary transition area*. This phenomenon, as argued by various authors,
could be directly linked to the boom of cocaine production (Laserna 1996 in Rivera 2003: 54;
Mesa et al. 1997: 672-3; Stefanoni & do Alto 2006: 34). As a response, Bolivian successive
governments got engaged in the process of eradication of coca bushes featured by decades of
inconsistent penalising policies, authoritarian regimes’ involvement in drugs trafficking, a tough
legal framework, corruption, US government agencies’ intervention, as well as repression and
violence that set a number of contradictions in terms of progress and setbacks (Komadina 2008:
188; Laserna 1996 in Rivera 2003: 100; Shultz 2007: 218-21).

[Slide] ‘And it was in the environment of resistance to such eradication policies that the coca-
growers’ organisations coalesced, mobilised and constructed in twenty years one of the most
important social movements in the country [Bolivia]. Emerged from this quarry the Six Coca-
Growers’ Federations11, the platform from which Evo Morales radiated his national, and even
international, leadership’ (Stefanoni & Do Alto 2006)

Hence, I am arguing that the coca leaf is ‘reinvented’ as a cultural product, a ‘sacred plant’, and
in the process become an important economic product linked to ‘invented traditions’ and mythic
beliefs around its ‘power’ (properties), but centrally the way in which coca acquires qualities and
meanings that mediate political relations led by coca growers’ unions. In fact, this socio-
economic movement gathers indigenous (most of which belong to Aymaras and Quechuas ethnic
groups) and migrants to lower-lands, like President Morales, but also reproduce ideological and
symbolic ‘assets’ socio-politically accumulated along in history in both the high lands and the
mines. This is a striking element in understanding the political dynamics, as well as cultural re-
inventions, of the coca leaf (Stefanoni & do Alto 2006: 49-56).

The ‘re-invention’ of the coca leaf, in political terms, could be located from 1992 onwards, when
the remembrance of the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ arrival to the continent – an iconic
moment that kicked-off Spanish colonisation – was reframed by indigenous peoples'
organizations as five centuries struggle against oppression (ibid). In this year also a political
‘instrument’ was consolidated by indigenous and peasant unions, but primarily led by coca
growers’ unions, in order to mobilise those historical struggles and challenge the power relations.
This is the MAS-IPSP (Movement Towards Socialism – Political Instrument for the Sovereignty
of the Peoples), a sui generis political force that gathers unions and social movements, which has
ruled the country politically since 2006 (do Alto 2008).

The coca leaf operates here, also, as a socio-economic-cultural artefact that reaches a large
proportion of the population, especially those who are indigenous, live or come from the Andean

11 Coca-growers’ Unions.
regions, because it is ‘traditionally’ and legally consumed in various circumstances on a regular
basis. Moreover, it is mostly consumed for those who do hard-work or physically demanding
tasks (normally the poorer people) in both rural and urban areas alike, due to its nutrient
properties and natural stimulant effects (Mamani 2006:45-7).

[Slide] Summing up, the coca leaf operates as an artefact embodying cultural, socio-economic
and political representations, is presented as a symbol that gathers peoples’ identities and
aspirations. It has economic relevance in certain markets that go beyond Bolivian borders,
especially in the Northern provinces in Argentina, therefore, it enhances the idea of challenging
the power relations, politically as well as economically. However, the coca leaf confronts
fundamental conflicts and certainly one of the toughest is the international penalisation due to the
fact that it is the raw material for the production of cocaine triggering a number of scientific,
legal and economic disputes.

I am rather observing how the coca leaf is ‘reinvented/re-constructed’ as a system of

representations that intervenes in political ritualised practices as forms of argumentation and
communication.

Socio-cultural dimensions

I would like to propose an assumption here: the coca leaf is intrinsically related to the
construction of social relations and collective memories.

As Allen (1986), based on an anthropological study, argues, coca ‘is a communicator, a kind of
transmitter for messages between humans and deities’ (Allen 1986: 42). In addition, ‘coca plays
both symbolic and instrumental functions in social relations. Coca chewing not only is a sign of
orderly social relations; it is also an instrument through which these relations are created and
maintained’ (ibid: 44).

Without entering into the complexity of meanings and representations of each of these, it could
be seen that coca mediates the relationship between the human (social) and the divine ‘world’,
intercedes between ‘the sacred’ and ‘the evil’, a constant duality. It is relevant to mention,
nevertheless, that in most of these ceremonies akhulliku is a central component (Mamani 2006:
23-5).

Secondly, in its socio-ritual dimension, coca mediates the ‘traditional’ social activities among
indigenous: once again, akhulliku is done after meals, in daily social events between friends and
family and so on. It is a system of representations because it gathers a number of meanings that
are socially reproduced on a regular basis, but still preserves its symbolic quality, ‘to chew coca
is an invitation to convivial social intercourse’ (Allen 1986:36) .

Economic dimension
[Slide] The coca leaf has been, and is still nowadays, employed by many people for nutritive and
curative purposes (ibid: 87; Rivera 2003: 118). Equally, it is irrefutable that the coca leaf is the
main organic component and raw material utilised for the illicit production of cocaine
chlorhydrate, one of the most broadly trafficked and consumed illegal drugs in the world
(UNODC 2009: 63).

The economic dimensions of the coca leaf, within which cocaine is a very important factor, are
critical for understanding its meanings in relation to social and power relations. Thus, in spite of
the 1961 UN Convention and the consequent mandate for eradicating both of coca production
and consumption, Bolivia possess a legal framework that acknowledges an estimated 12,000
hectares of legal coca destined for ‘traditional’ consumption and to be produced mainly in the so-
called ‘traditional’ areas12 (Bolivian National Congress 1988). This legal delimitation was
adopted from the socio-anthropological research conducted by Carter and Mamani in 1985 that,
according to one of its authors, did not attempt to establish such criteria and has only partially
estimated productive figures nation-wide (Mamani 2006: 144-5). The question addressed by
various authors is whether this amount in fact corresponds and satisfies the dynamic and
‘traditional’ and ‘cultural’ demand of coca, inside and outside Bolivian borders.

The main factors to be taken into account in this controversy are, amongst others: a) Coca-
grower peasants, most of whom are indigenous, produce in small scale and their production
cannot be steady in the long-term; b) There are a number of techniques and conditions for coca
growing, consequently its performance varies from place to place; c) There are different qualities
and the prices fluctuation is sharp and volatile; d) Market distortions are frequent due to
deviations, corruption and better prices offered from the illicit demand e) Coca cropping
demands labour force rather than technology, this is intrinsically related to cultural practices of
production, solidarity and reciprocity, such us the ayni*, and corresponds to familiar and social
bonds; f) Photometric and satellite studies were carried out by North American agencies
consequently its reliability is constantly challenged by coca-growers’ unions13; g) It is a highly
efficient crop in many aspects so other possible, or ‘alternative’, products in the zone are simply
not attractive (Díaz 2008; Laserna 1996; Rivera 2003; Shultz 2007; Spedding 2003).

In fact, this last point has been largely considered by some authors as crucial in understanding
the coca-growers’ rationale: the coca bush could last up to 10 years; it produces three or four
harvests per year; does not require installation of irrigation technology and its seedlings can be
produced by the farmer; it weighs much less than products like fruit and its transport and
package is easy and cheap; in spite of price fluctuations as pointed out, it provides relatively
12 The Law 1008 maps out coca production in three areas: a) The ‘traditional’ or historical area is Yungas near La
Paz where it is completely legal; b) Excedentary transition area where its production is subject to governmental
control and ‘adjustment’ (forced eradication), located in Chapare Tropical valleys; and c) and the rest of the
territory where coca production is illicit (Articles 9, 10, 11 and 12, respectively).
13 Regarding this issue, the report elaborated by the Transnational Institute points out: ‘Demand is calculated in
tons of leaves, but the number of hectares needed to produce a certain quantity of metric tons is still in question.
Information that is currently available does not allow for precise measurements’ (Transnational Institute 2006: 12).
consistent income to coca-growers which is crucial in an ‘economic environment [given] that is
more often than not in crisis, and in a country with one of the highest rates of rural poverty in the
world’ (Shultz 2007: 215; also Spedding 2003: 361-5).

Within this context, coca-growers have progressively reproduced forms of resistance and
collective protest against eradication forces, financed and logistically led by the US government,
along with the reinvention of discourses of protest against the so-called ‘neoliberal’ governments
(1985-2003). From initial economic demands, coca-growers bestow to the coca leaf political
qualities that it did not enjoy in the past and project it as an ambivalent reconquering symbol of
the national sovereignty, an instrument for the anti-imperialist struggle and the representation of
a ‘civilization’ (Komadina 2008: 188). Through a narrative of sacrifice, victimization and
struggle, which also recalls the long-term indigenous memory, coca-growers’ unions were able
to articulate an involving discourse that addresses cleavages that make sense, not only to their
affiliates, but also to other social groups: ‘exploitation’–resistance, ‘domination’–rebellion,
‘colonisation’–liberation, poverty and exclusion–well being (ibid: 193; Stefanoni & do
Alto2006: 45-6). These components were progressively developed and consolidated in both the
power strategy of the MAS, the ‘political instrument’, and the discourse against ‘neoliberal’
parties and subsequently overwhelming electoral victory. However, the MAS has eminently
benefited, to a great extent, from the indigenous and social movements’ uprising of 2000 and
2003, respectively, that certainly supported, but did not led (Dunkerley 2007).

Finally: Political ritualised practices: the coca leaf as a political ‘deliverer’

The coca leaf is materially and symbolically linked to socio-economic and cultural dynamics for
the peoples of the Andes. It has been exposed how the coca leaf is intrinsically related to
agriculture and mining, the two main historically economic and productive activities in Bolivia.
Land, soil and underground, carved or perforated, is crucial in the memory of Bolivia’s peoples,
as well as collective imaginary, and coca mediates powerfully both activities by being a crucial
element in the Andean mythology and rituality. Furthermore, both collective memory and
imaginary are recently being articulated around indigenous, peasants, and miners, among others,
social movements that has challenged the internal power relations and attempted to portray its
discourse beyond Bolivian borders.

[Slide] It is precisely in the international realm that coca becomes an artefact for challenging the
Establishment, the western world order ruled by the US and Eropean governments especially.
Coca has the power of embodying a number of meanings and discursive dimensions that are
utilised to challenge the power relations. In the Bolivian case, the president Evo Morales have
been performing political ritualised acts ever since the 61st UN General Assembly in September
2006 campaigning openly against coca penalisation but furthermore operating a very complex
system of representations, performances and ritualised practices as part of its political discourse.
Reaching this point, I would prefer to open up the discussion with the audience about the issues
addressed or other topics you may be interest in related to the coca and its political implications
in the Southern Andes.

Thank you very much.