A surprise vote in Bolivia disrupts politics as usual
Digital illustration in hand drawing style for Ojalá by Karen con K.
Opinion • Huascar Salazar • August 28, 2025 • Leer en castellano
In a context of ongoing political turmoil, Bolivians found a way to upset an electoral chessboard that seemed set in stone, sacrosanct.
In just under two months, Bolivia will hold—for the first time in its history—a presidential runoff between two right-wing parties: the Christian Democratic Party (PDC) and the Free Coalition.
This unprecedented runoff means that Bolivia, which is undergoing a severe economic crisis in a context in which grassroots organizing has been weakened, is entering a new political era.
Two further learnings from the August 17 electoral process are: first, never hire a Bolivian polling firm (none of them, apparently, saw this coming). And second, that the implosion of the Movement Toward Socialism (MAS) was even more dramatic than expected.
More than a clear result, the first round of voting left a set of issues on the table that reflect problems, discontents, and desires in Bolivian society, which go far beyond the electoral landscape.
Shock and institutional erosion
When the first results came in at 9pm on election day, the overall feeling was one of shock.
Against all odds, the PDC, led by Rodrigo Paz Pereira, came in first. No official poll predicted this outcome, not even as a long shot.
In mid-July, polls indicated that the PDC had 3.2 percent support, by August 10, that number had risen to 8.3 percent. These figures make no sense when compared to the final result: the PDC received 25.15 percent of the total votes cast. A big surprise, yes, but also a symptom of the current state of democratic government institutions.
Polling companies are not only unregulated, but they also produce and spread false information with impunity.
Throughout the electoral period, it was clear that the institutional framework had been eroded, leading to confusion and uncertainty and giving rise to conspiracy theories.
The problem is not just the pollsters. It's also the lack of transparent procedures: candidates could be replaced until August 13—four days before the election!—if they were strategically disqualified.
Of 3,290 candidates for deputies and senators who were registered on May 19, 2,100 were disqualified. The disqualification of candidates was a deliberate strategy by the parties. This, among other things, meant that right up until 11:59 p.m. on August 13, there doubt about candidate lists. Speculation that Evo Morales could be on the ballot persisted until just days before the vote.
Another source of confusion was the cancellation of the legal status of parties, and the destabilization of the Supreme Electoral Tribunal. False reports of resignations generated a lack of transparency in the pre-election process.
Bolivia's electoral machinery has never been known for absolute reliability, but starting in 2016, it began to be undermined in a systemic manner. That’s when the MAS, the party Morales led, launched a harassment campaign against the Electoral Office to secure his re-election against the wishes of the popular vote in that year's referendum.
Distrust deepened with the failed 2019 elections, fostering more deterioration that was aggravated by the ensuing administrations of Janine Áñez and Luis Arce. Despite this exhausting and uncertain climate, the first round of elections this year ended peacefully.
Flipping the chessboard
Before Bolivians went to the polls, the outcome of the election appeared predictable and frustrating: a traditional right-wing candidate was expected to win. It was either to be Jorge Quiroga, the political heir of former dictator Hugo Banzer Suárez, who has direct ties to US interests, or Samuel Doria Medina, a businessman who has built a million-dollar fortune through party politics. A runoff between the two seemed like a foregone conclusion.
But on August 17, the PDC flipped the script, winning almost a quarter of the votes cast and displacing Quiroga (20.73 percent) and Doria Medina (15.28 percent) to runners-up.
Paz Pereira’s victory is a clear sign of attrition after a decade of Bolivian politics, marked by polarization between the MAS and the traditional right. It breaks with that binary logic, but not in favor of a rebellious or anti-capitalist alternative. Instead, it points to something more confusing: its a vote for a right-wing bloc some describe as closer to the “center” and others as “outsider,” but that actually lacks a clear identity, even to itself.
The PDC’s presidential ticket combines political tradition and social media knowhow. Paz Pereira owes his electoral capital to his father, former president Jaime Paz Zamora, and his vice president Edman Lara gained prominence after being dismissed from the National Police for staning up against corruption in the force.
Both ran an intense campaign in rural areas and working-class neighborhoods across the country, promoting a message that combined Paz Pereira's image with the anti-corruption stance on which Lara has built his following.
The PDC's electoral proposals are inconsistent and improvised.
This includes their government plan, which Paz Pereira acknowledged he did not participate in drafting, and Lara's proposals, like raising the Dignity Pension (a monthly payment for seniors over 60) from $50 to $285 without a plan to pay for it. The whole package is presented alongside rhetoric tinged with punitivist, Christian overtones.
What happens in the second round on November 19 remains to be seen. Quiroga, who is from the consolidated traditional right and openly allied with the country's economic elites (mainly agro-industrialists), will seek to return the Bolivian state to the economic tenets of classic neoliberalism.
The PDC has already pledged support for the agro-industrial agenda, as have Doria Medina and Quiroga, but it remains unclear whether party leaders will align with traditional right-wing politics or instead opt for a more personality-based, authoritarian approach centered on Lara.
Either way, as this new right wing finds its footing, grassroots organizations may get some breathing room to rethink and rebuild their processes.
What remains of MAS
The ruling MAS party won 2.46 percent of total votes cast (just over three percent of valid votes), something that was unimaginable until very recently. The party, which has been at the center of Bolivian politics for 20 years, came within a hair's breadth of losing its legal registry.
Luis Arce Catacora—who Morales handpicked to be the presidential candidate in 2020 against the wishes of social organizations—cut ties with his mentor and, together with upstarts like presidential candidate Eduardo del Castillo, took over the party structure.
The plan was going more or less smoothly until the economic crisis—the result of gas extraction coming to an end—blew up in their faces.
For his part, Andrónico Rodríguez led Alianza Popular, a MAS splinter group that initially seemed promising in terms of rebuilding party strength around the young union leader. But what for a moment looked like the renewal of MAS turned out to be a sunchu luminaria (a light that dazzles and quickly fizzles out).
Rodríguez recycled the historical MAS platform, sought Morales' blessing (which he never got), and chose Mariana Prado as his vice-presidential candidate. Prado is close to former ex-President Álvaro García Linera and his family. Rodríguez barely managed to net 6.61 percent of votes cast.
For his part, Morales seemed willing to burn everything down if he was not at the center of the contest. After being sidelined by a controversial constitutional ruling, he called for two roadblocks, one that lasted 24 days in October and November of last year, and another that lasted two weeks in June, exacerbating the economic crisis.
Even faced with seven accusations of rape and child trafficking, Morales showed he was willing to push the country over the edge in order to become president again.
When he failed to achieve the insurrection he desired, Morales called on his supporters to spoil their ballots, and promoted a disinformation campaign. Spoiled ballots accounted for 19.87 percent of total votes cast. Historically, null votes hover around four percent and given the discontent surrounding the electoral process, they can’t be attributed solely to Morales' call.
The MAS that was ten years ago no longer exists. Its fragmentation is the result of the erosion of an increasingly authoritarian party, an economic crisis for which it bears significant responsibility, and the grotesque squabbling between its leaders and their egos. In the process, the MAS managed to obliterate a good part of the organizational structures throughout Bolivian society that gave the party it’s strength.
We don’t know to what extent this unexpected “disruption” in the vote will hinder an orderly transfer of state power. And it remains to be seen to what extent this emerging political configuration could breathe new life into the processes of grassroots reorganization.