Life stands above all conflict, yet the roads remain closed
En las alturas de Bolivia, donde la geografía ya impone sus propias condenas, los caminos bloqueados por dieciséis días se han convertido en sentencias de muerte para los más vulnerables. Cuatro personas, entre ellas un niño de doce años que nunca llegó al quirófano, han perdido la vida mientras la disputa política entre sindicatos indígenas y el gobierno del presidente Rodrigo Paz transforma las rutas en instrumentos de presión colectiva. Es una historia antigua y dolorosa: cuando el poder se ejerce sobre el territorio, quienes carecen de alternativas pagan el precio más alto.
- Un niño de doce años con trauma abdominal grave murió en una ambulancia desviada porque los bloqueos le cerraron el camino al único hospital que podía salvarlo.
- Los cortes de ruta, extendidos ya por cinco regiones del país, han vaciado mercados, agotado combustible y puesto en riesgo el suministro de oxígeno médico en hospitales de La Paz y El Alto.
- El gobierno, la Iglesia Católica y la Defensoría del Pueblo llevan días exigiendo corredores humanitarios, pero sus llamados no han logrado abrir paso a ambulancias ni camiones de abastecimiento.
- Las pérdidas industriales superan los seiscientos millones de dólares, mientras eventos culturales y deportivos se cancelan y la vida cotidiana se paraliza para quienes menos pueden resistirlo.
- Con los bloqueos sin ceder y la presión social en aumento, la crisis amenaza con profundizarse antes de que aparezca cualquier salida negociada.
Un niño de doce años llegó la noche del miércoles a un hospital en Llallagua con una lesión abdominal grave. Los médicos decidieron trasladarlo en ambulancia a Potosí, donde podría recibir atención especializada. La ambulancia no pudo pasar. Los bloqueos de ruta, levantados dieciséis días antes por sindicatos de campesinos aymaras que exigen la renuncia del presidente Rodrigo Paz, habían sellado los caminos. El vehículo fue desviado hacia Oruro. El niño murió en el trayecto. El jueves, el Ministerio de Salud confirmó su muerte como la cuarta víctima fatal directamente causada por los cortes.
Los bloqueos comenzaron en La Paz y se extendieron a Oruro, Cochabamba, Santa Cruz, Potosí y Chuquisaca. Detrás de ellos están los sindicatos campesinos, la Central Obrera Boliviana y seguidores del expresidente Evo Morales. Su objetivo es forzar la salida de Paz del gobierno. Su herramienta son las rutas cortadas. Entre los cuatro muertos hay también una mujer de Belice, extranjera atrapada en una crisis que no era la suya.
En La Paz y El Alto, los alimentos escasean en los mercados, el combustible se agota y el oxígeno médico comienza a faltar en los hospitales. El Ministerio de Salud, la Defensoría del Pueblo y la Iglesia Católica han pedido reiteradamente corredores humanitarios para dejar pasar ambulancias y camiones de abastecimiento. Ninguno de esos llamados ha prosperado. El ministerio emitió un comunicado declarando que "la vida está por encima de todo conflicto", una frase que pesa más cuando los caminos siguen cerrados.
Las pérdidas económicas superan los seiscientos millones de dólares solo en el sector industrial. Eventos culturales y deportivos han sido postergados o trasladados. El bloqueo funciona como un castigo colectivo que recae con mayor fuerza sobre quienes menos pueden resistirlo: los enfermos, los que tienen hambre, los que no pueden moverse. Mientras el gobierno y la sociedad civil continúan pidiendo una salida humanitaria, los caminos permanecen cerrados y la crisis sigue cobrando su precio.
A twelve-year-old boy from the mountain town of Pocoata arrived at a hospital in Llallagua on Wednesday night with severe abdominal trauma. He needed surgery and intensive care. The doctors prepared to move him by ambulance to Potosí, the regional capital, where he could receive the treatment his condition demanded. He never arrived. The ambulance could not get through. Road blockades, erected sixteen days earlier by unions of Aymara peasant farmers demanding the resignation of President Rodrigo Paz, had sealed the routes. The vehicle was forced to divert toward the city of Oruro instead. The boy died in transit. On Thursday, Bolivia's Ministry of Health confirmed his death as the fourth fatality directly caused by the blockades that now strangle the country's transportation network.
The protests began in La Paz, the seat of government, and have since metastasized across five regions: Oruro, Cochabamba, Santa Cruz, Potosí, and Chuquisaca. The blockades are the work of peasant unions, the Central Obrera Boliviana—the country's main labor federation—and supporters of former president Evo Morales, who governed from 2006 to 2019. They want Paz out. The roadblocks are their lever. For sixteen days, nothing moves freely through the highlands.
The human toll extends beyond the four confirmed dead. In La Paz and the neighboring city of El Alto, where the blockades have been longest and most complete, food has begun to vanish from markets. Fuel is scarce. Medical oxygen—the kind hospitals need to keep patients alive—is running low. The Ministry of Health, the Ombudsman's office, and the Catholic Church have all made public appeals, sometimes repeatedly, asking the protesters to establish humanitarian corridors, passages where ambulances and supply trucks could pass. The appeals have not succeeded.
One of the four dead was a woman from Belize, a foreigner caught in a country not her own when the roads closed. The others, like the boy, were Bolivians whose medical emergencies collided with political crisis. The Ministry of Health issued a statement expressing condolences to the boy's family and declaring that "life stands above all conflict." It is a sentiment that carries weight in a country where the blockades continue to tighten.
The economic damage is mounting in parallel with the human cost. The National Chamber of Industries reported Thursday that losses to the industrial sector alone have exceeded six hundred million dollars. Beyond the factories and warehouses, cultural and sporting events have been postponed or relocated as organizers confront the reality that people cannot reliably reach venues. The blockades have become a form of collective punishment that falls hardest on those with the least ability to absorb it—the sick, the hungry, the stranded.
The government, the church, and civil society institutions continue to call for humanitarian corridors. Whether those calls will be heeded, or whether the blockades will persist and deepen the crisis, remains unclear. What is certain is that the roads remain closed, and in a country where geography is already an obstacle, that closure has become lethal.
Citas Notables
Life stands above all conflict— Bolivia's Ministry of Health, in a statement after the boy's death
We urge that ambulances be allowed passage and we call for a humanitarian corridor that guarantees timely medical care for all— Bolivia's Ministry of Health
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the ambulance have to divert to Oruro instead of going directly to Potosí?
The blockades had sealed the direct route. When the ambulance encountered the roadblock, there was no way through—the protesters had made sure of that. So the driver had to choose a longer path, hoping to reach a hospital that could help. But the boy couldn't wait for a longer journey.
Had the government or church actually asked the protesters to let ambulances through before this boy died?
Yes, repeatedly. The Ministry of Health, the Ombudsman, the Catholic Church—they'd all made public appeals for humanitarian corridors. But asking and getting compliance are different things. The blockades were the protesters' only real leverage against the president, so letting ambulances through meant weakening their position.
What do the protesters actually want?
They want Rodrigo Paz to resign. They're peasant unions, labor federations, and supporters of Evo Morales, the former president. They see Paz as illegitimate or failing, and the blockades are how they're trying to force him out.
Is this the first time road blockades have killed people in Bolivia?
No. This is the fourth confirmed death from blocked access in just sixteen days. One was a woman from Belize. The others were Bolivians. Each one represents a medical emergency that couldn't be reached in time.
What's happening to ordinary people in the cities right now?
Food is disappearing. Fuel is hard to find. Medical oxygen—the kind hospitals depend on—is running low. La Paz and El Alto have been hit hardest because the blockades have been tightest there the longest. It's not just the sick who suffer. It's everyone trying to eat, trying to move, trying to live normally.
How much economic damage are we talking about?
The industrial sector alone has lost over six hundred million dollars. But that's just the factories. It doesn't count the restaurants that can't get food, the pharmacies that can't get supplies, the families that can't work. The real cost is much wider than what any single number can capture.