Organizing a feminist horizon against all fascisms

A reflection from Santa Cruz, Bolivia, on how women are working to break the silence imposed through threats and violence.

Opinion • Claudia Cuellar Suarez, March 6, 2023 • Leer en castellano

What’s going on in Santa Cruz? Are you okay? Can you go out in the street?

Since October, those of us who live Santa Cruz, in eastern Bolivia, have been asked these questions over and over again. The messages arrived as images on TV showed burning cars and buildings and tear gas in the streets.

As feminists in Santa Cruz, we’ve been asking ourselves these same questions. We’ve been living through a huge amount of chaos, trying to stave off the worst conflicts, which are active on many flanks.

The most recent episode of open conflict in the region took place in two parts. 

On October 22, 2022, a “civic strike” was initiated. In reality, it was an occupation and blockade that forced the closure of the city of Santa Cruz and some provinces, with the exception of large industries and those able to work remotely. Circulation was restricted in avenues, streets and neighborhoods for hours and days long periods, and there was no public transportation.

These actions were organized by the Pro Santa Cruz Civic Committee, the regional entity that has coordinated the interests of local elites since 1950. It coordinated with the so-called Inter-Institutional Committee for the 2023 Census, a group that disappeared after the mobilizations. The Civic Committee represents the interests of the soy and ranching business owners, which are in tension at the moment. The Committee’s interests are regularly presented as though they are shared by all residents of the city. 

Force was used during the long days of strikes and blockades to bring about the suspension of economic activities. The violence hit working class Cruceños the hardest, as they found it increasingly difficult to sustain daily life.

The blockade was called to force the national government to carry out the 2023 Census. The composition of the National Congress and the use of public resources will be defined based on information gathered in the census. These are key developments for those with their eye on power and with elections on the horizon. 

The second part of the conflict began at the end of December, when the governor of the department of Santa Cruz, Luis F. Camacho was arrested, setting off another wave of violence. 

The mobilization of fear and hate

What we lived through as a result of blockades in many of the city’s roundabouts during the 36 day “civic strike” was a process of deep social authoritarianism. 

It was the members of the Civic Committee, in their fight with the Movement toward Socialism (MAS), that created the conditions for authoritarianism organized from below. 

Violent clashes took place between neighbors as they suppressed contrarian opinions so as to shut them down as quickly as possible. There were fights between people who were previously close, when one determined another could become a “traitor” against the strike-blockade because they had to meet a specific need. 

The social climate in Bolivia’s richest and fastest growing city became increasingly stifled.

It was hard to get by with little or no work, without being able to travel, and with great difficulties in buying groceries, which are increasingly expensive. But the most bitter of all was loneliness and isolation that spread through society.

Everyone became distrustful of everyone else, everyone was against everyone else.

Violence was installed from the street to the home and back again. Reactionary discourses were used against anyone critical of the strike, the Committee, and the men who “make decisions.”

During that time, we learned that “fascist” or “facho” isn’t an identity, it is a configuration of power.

What fascisms are is a tangled mess of immoral relationships that exacerbate racist, religious and anti-feminist discourses. A mix of confusing tension that is deeply conservative and mobilizes hate and fear toward the other, reinforcing identity as a reactionary flag. All of that became quotidian in a sea of insecurity and distrust. 

Fascisms—yes, plural—are much more than the opposition of political blocs. They are part of the violence and the exploitative relationships that sustain the pillage of this region. They are made most visible under the flag of the right wing, but also dwell in practices used by the governing party. We’re seeing a deterioration of politics, and of those who wish to continue to hijack public space. 

That’s why we talk about fascistizing discipline, which doesn’t just come from above but also from below, through “lists of traitors,” which are passed around among Civic Committee members, neighbors and the most reactionary groups at the public university. The threat carried by the lists is that the names of those who are against the strikes and  blockades will be made public.

This is similar to how the party in power removes and publicly shames anyone who questions one of their caudillos (leaders). These are practices that employ violence and impose silence as a form of survival. 

The violences lived inside of households moves onto the street when young men—and some women—give themselves the right to confront anyone they disagree with with bats in hand, ready to break bones and heads.

The response of the central government has been one of disregard, ignorance and complicity, hiding the agreements made between elites and institutions in Santa Cruz. Both groups are strengthened in every apparent conflict, which lead to the creation of a hidden order agreed to between wealthy landowners and those who govern.

Bodies and territories in dispute

Attacks on urban feminist collectives in Santa Cruz are not new. On November 28, 2021, religious groups and members of the Unión Juvenil Cruceñista beat up members of collectives who were protesting patriarchal violence.

As participants in autonomous feminist collectives, we have had to take a step back and learn to approach what is taking place in Santa Cruz from another perspective.

The Evangelical-Catholic alliance has been strengthened here over the past years. They use an anti-feminist discourse to call to order feminized and dissident bodies that rebel against family norms and gender roles. 

The conservative, religious Christian alliance is now working hard to prevent sexual education from being included in school curriculum. In this way, they align themselves with the Civic Committee, but their message arrives to a far larger public.

These actions attempt to control the bodies and the desires of children, racialized people and anyone who subverts the existing order.

We cannot forget that the elite is rapist, and that it continues to use rape as a threat to colonize bodies and territories. Sexual violence has been key in consolidating exploitative labor relations and racism in our region. 

The biodiverse territories of this vast region of Bolivia are also in dispute. The department of Santa Cruz has a rate of deforestation that’s 34 times above the global average, according to data from the Bolivian Chamber of Forestry.

The deepening of extractive agribusiness and oil, gas and energy projects created by the traditional Camba [Santa Cruz] oligarchy and their transnational allies is in direct conflict—in an anti-communitarian and anti-popular dispute—with the expansion of colonization by small farmers. The party in power mediates on both sides of this conflict.

Land disputes and struggles for water are the forces that flow under the “civic” conflicts in Santa Cruz. The regional elite seeks and attempts to control spaces, and they perceive territories and the weavings that organize life as resources they can turn into profit. 

The central problem with this dynamic, which is often lost behind the strident cries of the Civic Committee, is the reproduction of life. Regional links of eco-interdependence are at risk when the cycles of water, soil and climate are altered.

Feminist political horizons in Santa Cruz

As autonomous feminists in Santa Cruz, our political horizons are set on the possibility of hitting on explanations that are useful in making sense of the confusion and violence we’ve lived through over the last months.

We’ve made space to meet together to study and analyze the violent and fascistizing events one layer at a time. To understand what is at play and how threats against our bodies and our territories are re-created. Meeting together, face to face and with serenity, we name things, attempt explanations and begin once again to feel our power and our ability to break out of immobilization.

Being together has taught us so much, and has allowed us to understand much more.

We know precarity and impoverishment in Santa Cruz and the region are growing, and that expanding indebtedness is part of daily life. We know sustaining life is becoming more and more difficult. We know hateful civic and state discourses are distractions, drawing our attention toward problems that are not our own. 

We know we must distrust caudillos and parties. We know that a climate of fear is useful to them, so that they can present themselves as saviors. 

We know the Plurinational State fostered by the MAS has become the guarantor of agroindustrial extractivism in Santa Cruz, which the local elite has taken full advantage of. We know that their disputes and agreements are their own and that the stifling of other debates and discussions works in their favor.

We want to see the Civic Committee and its leadership extinguished. We know they do not represent Cruceña society, which is increasingly complex and home to many. Today, their institutions are an occupying force. 

Meanwhile, we are reinforcing our collective bonds. We are taking the fear from our bodies and rooting down in our lands to fight for the life we want. From there, we propose a horizon against all fascisms.

We will retake the streets and bloom and flower out of our anger on March 8th and in other moments we create together. We will allow the happiness they wish to take from us to be reborn.

 
Claudia Cuellar Suarez

Claudia Cuellar Suarez is a feminist born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. She works on and researches the violence, displacement and expropriation in the Bolivian lowlands.

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