The transformational effect of power is extremely noticeable in Bolivian politics. And here I am talking of rural and provincial politics, of the backwater places that nobody hears or knows about but are the heart and soul of Bolivian culture and vitality.
Several times I have seen close friends or acquaintances completely transformed by the responsibilities and privileges of political power. From the humblest of origins, and through the unsavory process of political maneuvering, rural peasants will rise through the ranks of the political patronage system to become mayor, sub-prefect, municipal counsel member, or some other high sounding position.
Overnight they will change, from a malnourished, earth-working campesino to a back-slapping, pot-bellied, patronizing, political hack. A steady diet of coca, potatoes, and back-breaking farm work is replaced with fiscal corruption, alcoholic indulgences and sexual indiscretions.
Our hero’s fall is as tragic and catastrophic as his meteoric rise. It usually begins with a shift in the political balance of power, orchestrated by the capricious and unpredictable whims of the Bolivian electorate. From there everything goes down hill, as all of the crimes and indiscretions of the once powerful campesino come back to haunt him in the form of legal proceedings and sociocultural sanctions.
The pot-belly disintegrates into lean flesh; the hands reform thick calluses as the political hack is once again transformed into an earth-worker. And the once proud, rooster-like swagger becomes a humble and deflated shadow of its former self.
Sometimes the entire process seems all to literary, almost as if they are deliberately attempting to emulate the tragic story of the bloated Boss in Robert Penn Warren’s All The King’s Men.
Yet a recent experience made me think twice about this entire process. Last week I met with a new provincial sub-prefect in an undisclosed location. After 14 years and three children, she is pregnant with her fourth. First and foremost, the distinguished señora is a mother.
It took all of about ten minutes for me to realize that this middle-aged, soft-spoken political figure hasn’t changed one bit since assuming her position. Though her resume may not be full of impressive academic and professional achievements, and her list of political contacts may not be excessively long, her commitment to serving her community is unquestionable.
Which set me to thinking: is it possible that thousands of years of genocide, war, oppression and misdirection have been a result of the fact that it was not the wrong person steering the ship this whole time, but instead it was the wrong gender at the helm?