Notoriety of President Morales Roils Area's Bolivian Community

By Pamela Constable and Karin Brulliard
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, February 12, 2007

On weekend nights, the dance floor at Cecilia's Club in Arlington County pulsates with strobe lights and salsa dancers. But one recent Saturday afternoon, this social hub of the region's large Bolivian population became a sober forum for debate on the political storm that has convulsed the immigrants' native country and sent shock waves through their quiet, prosperous community.

The storm has a name: Evo Morales. He is the charismatic indigenous leader whose election as Bolivia's president just over a year ago brought new pride to the impoverished South American nation. Now, his radical rhetoric and friendships with foreign leftist leaders such as Venezuela's Hugo Chavez are causing consternation in both Bolivia and the United States.

"People are always asking me about Morales. No one ever asked me about any Bolivian president before," said Miriam Rodriguez of Fairfax, who helped organize the forum. "But now we see him making mistakes, following in the steps of Chavez, being pushed to hate America. We want to make sure he does the right thing, because everyone is watching us now."

Greater Washington is home to the largest population of Bolivian immigrants in the United States, with 37 percent of the total. Census figures show that more than 20,000 Bolivian-born immigrants live in the area, but activists and diplomats say the community is more than three times that size. Although smaller and less visible than the area's Central American populace, Bolivians and Peruvians constitute its largest South American immigrant groups.

Bolivians are also one of the oldest and most successful Hispanic communities in the area. Most came here for economic reasons rather than fleeing conflict, and on average they have higher income and education levels than U.S.-born Americans. Although some Bolivians toil at menial jobs, many are professionals or own small businesses.

Bolivians here have clung tightly to their roots, establishing dozens of folklore groups, three soccer leagues in Northern Virginia and a weekend school in Arlington where children study Bolivian traditions. Many fly to Bolivia often to visit relatives or have invested in binational ventures.

Yet surprisingly, they have never formed an ethnic enclave or become politically active as a group. Although many are eligible to vote, almost none has run for local office, and most have avoided becoming involved in the public debate about immigrant rights.

"Bolivians here have been unperceived for many reasons," said Ruddy Orellana, editor of Los Tiempos, a Bolivian-owned newspaper in Falls Church. "They have been peaceful and their kids have not gotten involved in gangs. They have been ambitious in business but have not reached for political influence. . . . They have been scattered and dispersed."

In the past year, however, Morales's election has plunged this quiet community into a political maelstrom. Morales, 47, rose to prominence as a leader of coca-leaf growers, whose crop produces cocaine but also has traditional uses such as tea. He led peasants in highway blockades and opposed U.S. drug eradication policies, saying they unfairly punished poor farmers.

Most Bolivians here say they initially welcomed Morales's presidency as a change from elitist and military governments, but many say they became indignant and alarmed as he has antagonized domestic opponents and befriended Chavez and Cuba's Fidel Castro.

"We were all tired of corrupt governments, and we were all excited when Morales won," said Monica Williams, president of the Washington-based Bolivian-American Chamber of Commerce. "But he is making mistakes and putting too much emphasis on native issues. We are beginning to see a clash of races and regions. It is polarizing the country."

In recent months, violent demonstrations have broken out in Bolivia, spurred by Morales's promises of an agrarian revolution, with large landowners pitted against landless peasants. Critics say his government has become increasingly confrontational, and opposition leaders have accused him of seeking to impose a totalitarian regime.

Wherever Bolivians gather here, the mention of Morales provokes animated debate. Last Sunday at the Iglesia Santa Maria in Falls Church, whose Episcopal congregation is 90 percent Bolivian, some worshipers expressed fears that his government would seize their family land. But one man counseled patience, adding, "The important thing is that people are participating."

At an indoor gym nearby, men watched two teams of sweaty indoor soccer players chase a blue soccer ball. Gustavo Chalco, a house painter who lives in Burke, said everyone had hoped Morales was going to change things. "But now we are at the edge of a civil war," he said.

Jose Martinez, a gray-haired construction worker, said he dreams of returning home but is no longer sure what awaits him. "Bad image for my country, Evo. Bad image," he said.

In a glassy, modern office in Rosslyn, Oscar Bazoberry, a high-tech developer and venture capitalist, said he admires Morales's concern for the poor but worries that his administration will alienate rather than attract the foreign investment Bolivia needs to develop. So far, his economic policies have stressed nationalizing resources such as natural gas and mining.

"For the first time, Bolivia has a government that cares about the needs of the indigenous poor, but they have no understanding of capital markets and how to make a real dent in development," Bazoberry said. "Morales has put Bolivia on the map, but now that it is a player, let's play."

Some indigenous Bolivians in the area remain enthusiastic about Morales, who has promoted indigenous activists to senior positions and elevated their status in a society long stratified among white, mixed-race and indigenous inhabitants.

Julia Garcia, 58, principal of Escuela Boliva, the weekend school in Arlington, said she still remembers childhood taunts from classmates back home about her Indian-style braids and Quechuan accent.

"I think the high elites never thought we would educate ourselves . . . and be at a level to speak with them," Garcia said. She acknowledged that Morales had made mistakes but said he should not abandon his agenda. "There is a new dawn" in Bolivia, she said.

But others express conflicted feelings about the man who is championing their cause. Elmer Herrera, a stonemason from Annandale and founder of an indigenous organization called Jach'a Uru, said Morales had proved that a Bolivian without pale skin and a foreign degree could rise to power. Yet Morales's refusal to compromise has led to increasingly sharp divisions, Herrera said.

"Evo is ruining the country," Herrera said. "We would like that in Bolivia, the rich and poor, the indigenous and non-indigenous, would sit at a table together."

Morales's emphasis on indigenous rights has hit a sensitive nerve in the area. Although many Bolivian immigrants speak Quechua and join folkloric groups, they are also anxious to blend into American life and not be singled out as an ethnic or racial minority.

"There is a lot of racism," said Alicia Ruiz, who organizes day laborers in Falls Church. Many Bolivians here don't want to acknowledge that they are part Indian, she said. "They ask how a peasant can govern us."

Immigrant leaders are especially concerned about U.S.-Bolivian relations, which have been tested by Morales's role as a champion of coca growers and by his high-profile friendships with Chavez and Castro. Proud of their pro-American values, some Bolivians fear being tarred with the Morales brush.

The Bolivian Embassy in Washington has done little to win them over. For much of last year there was no ambassador, and the new one arrived just as his government proposed that Bolivian residents in the United States obtain costly visas to travel to their homeland.

"We want to have an open door," Ambassador Gustavo Guzman asserted. "People here want us to maintain very good relations with the USA. They worry how close we are becoming to Cuba and Venezuela. They tell us, 'Please be careful. If relations are hurt, we will be the ones who suffer.' "

Yet even immigrants strongly opposed to Morales's views say they want to avert a political crisis in their homeland, which has a long history of instability and military coups.

"We are all Bolivians, and none of us wants to see a divided Bolivia," Williams said. "I am not crazy about Morales, but we have to give him the benefit of the doubt. All we ask is that he bring the country together, that he speak for all Bolivians, not just some of us."