La Paz remains isolated, the cable cars are silent
En las calles de La Paz, una ciudad sitiada por trece días de bloqueos, miles de manifestantes de distintos sectores sociales convergieron el lunes para exigir la renuncia del presidente Rodrigo Paz, y lo que comenzó como marcha se convirtió en destrucción. La tensión entre un gobierno que acusa a Evo Morales de orquestar el caos y una coalición de trabajadores, campesinos y pueblos indígenas que reclaman cambio real revela una fractura más profunda: la de un país que aún no ha resuelto quién tiene derecho a hablar en su nombre. En medio del gas lacrimógeno y las barricadas, La Paz se ha vuelto el escenario donde se disputan no solo el poder, sino la verdad misma.
- Miles de manifestantes —seguidores de Morales, sindicalistas, agricultores aymaras y organizaciones de El Alto— rodearon la plaza de gobierno con piedras, petardos y dinamita, convirtiendo el centro de La Paz en zona de combate.
- El Tribunal Departamental de Justicia fue saqueado, estaciones del teleférico atacadas, un vehículo policial incendiado y los puestos de vendedores ambulantes destruidos, mientras un policía fue golpeado con tal brutalidad que se suspendió el servicio en cuatro líneas aéreas.
- La ciudad lleva trece días aislada del resto del país por bloqueos de carreteras, con cortes adicionales en Oruro, Cochabamba y Chuquisaca, paralizando el comercio y la movilidad de toda una región.
- El gobierno de Paz atribuye la crisis a una maniobra política de Morales para retomar el poder, pero la amplitud de los sectores movilizados pone en duda si el descontento responde a una sola figura o a grietas sociales mucho más hondas.
- Entre el 12 y el 18 de mayo, quince periodistas fueron agredidos y cuatro equipos de prensa atacados, señal de que la violencia ha alcanzado también el espacio donde se construye —y se disputa— la información.
El lunes, las calles que rodean la plaza de gobierno en La Paz se convirtieron en campo de batalla. Miles de manifestantes —seguidores del expresidente Evo Morales, miembros de la Central Obrera Boliviana, agricultores aymaras y organizaciones sociales de El Alto— marcharon hacia el centro de la capital con una sola exigencia: la renuncia del presidente Rodrigo Paz. Lo que comenzó como protesta derivó rápidamente en violencia: piedras, petardos y dinamita volaron contra la policía antidisturbios, que respondió con gas lacrimógeno.
La destrucción se extendió por la ciudad. El Tribunal Departamental de Justicia fue saqueado. Las estaciones del teleférico —el sistema aéreo que conecta La Paz con El Alto— fueron atacadas con tal ferocidad que un policía resultó gravemente golpeado en una de ellas, obligando a la empresa estatal Mi Teleférico a suspender cuatro líneas. Un vehículo policial fue incendiado cerca de la sede de la Fuerza Especial de Lucha Contra el Crimen. Vendedores ambulantes vieron sus puestos arrasados. Algunos manifestantes arrancaron puertas de un edificio privado para usarlas como escudos contra el gas, y encendieron hogueras con papeles y madera para dispersar las nubes químicas.
El contexto agrava la crisis: La Paz lleva trece días aislada del resto del país por bloqueos de carreteras organizados por la Federación Campesina Tupac Katari y la central obrera, con cortes adicionales en Oruro, Cochabamba y Chuquisaca. El gobierno de Paz, a seis meses de asumir, acusa a Morales de orquestar la agitación como estrategia para volver al poder, encuadrando el conflicto como maniobra política antes que como expresión legítima de descontento popular.
La violencia alcanzó también a quienes intentaban documentarla: entre el 12 y el 18 de mayo, la Defensoría del Pueblo registró quince agresiones a periodistas y cuatro ataques a equipos de prensa. La Paz permanece aislada, los teleféricos en silencio, y sobre la ciudad pesa una pregunta sin respuesta: si lo que se vive es la rebelión de un caudillo o el estallido de un país que acumula demasiadas fracturas sin resolver.
On Monday in La Paz, the streets surrounding the government plaza turned into a battleground. Thousands of protesters—followers of former president Evo Morales, members of the Bolivian Workers' Central, Aymara farmers, and various social organizations from the neighboring city of El Alto—converged on the capital with a single demand: that President Rodrigo Paz step down. What began as a march became something fiercer. Demonstrators hurled stones, firecrackers, and dynamite at riot police positioned to defend the government and parliament buildings. The police answered with tear gas, and in the chaos that followed, the protest fractured into acts of destruction that would ripple across the city.
Protesters broke into the Departmental Court of Justice, smashing furniture and stealing what they could carry. They damaged cable car stations—the aerial lifelines that connect La Paz to El Alto—with rocks and violence, beating a police officer so severely at one station in the historic center that the state-run Mi Teleférico company was forced to suspend service on four separate lines. A police vehicle parked near the headquarters of the Special Force Against Crime was set ablaze. Street vendors watched as their small shops were looted and destroyed. In the thick of the confrontation, some demonstrators tore doors from a private building to use as shields against the gas, then gathered papers and wood to build fires that might disperse the chemical clouds.
The unrest did not emerge from nowhere. For thirteen days, La Paz has been cut off from the rest of the country by roadblocks orchestrated by the Tupac Katari Peasant Federation, working in concert with the workers' central. These blockades have paralyzed commerce and movement across the department. Additional road cuts have appeared in Oruro, Cochabamba, and Chuquisaca. The government of Paz, now six months into its term, has blamed the former president for orchestrating the chaos as a bid to return to power—a charge that frames the unrest as a political maneuver rather than a genuine expression of popular discontent.
The cost to those documenting the events has been substantial. Between May 12 and May 18, the Ombudsman's Office recorded fifteen assaults against journalists and four attacks on press equipment during coverage of the conflicts. These numbers underscore how the violence has extended beyond the streets and into the space where information itself is contested. The government's narrative of Morales-driven agitation competes with the visible reality of multiple social sectors—workers, farmers, indigenous groups—acting in concert to demand change. Whether these movements are coordinated by a single figure or represent a broader coalition of grievances remains a point of dispute, but the physical evidence of Monday's escalation is undeniable. La Paz remains isolated, the cable cars are silent, and the question of what comes next hangs over a city that has become a pressure cooker of competing demands.
Citas Notables
The Ombudsman's Office recorded fifteen assaults against journalists and four attacks on press equipment during coverage of the conflicts between May 12 and May 18.— Ombudsman's Office of Bolivia
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did this particular Monday turn violent when the protests have been ongoing for weeks?
The blockades had been building pressure for thirteen days. Monday was when multiple groups—Morales supporters, unions, farmers—all converged on the same plaza at the same time. That concentration of people and anger, meeting riot police, is what tipped it into destruction.
The government says Morales is behind this. Does that hold up?
It's complicated. Morales supporters were definitely there, but so were the workers' central, Aymara farmers, organizations from El Alto. These aren't fringe groups—they represent real constituencies. Whether Morales is orchestrating them or simply benefiting from their anger is the question the government wants to answer for you.
What about the journalists? Fifteen assaults in a week seems significant.
It is. When you're trying to control a narrative—when the government is saying one thing and the streets are saying another—the people with cameras become targets. Those assaults aren't accidental. They're part of how the conflict plays out.
The cable cars being shut down—that's not just infrastructure damage, is it?
No. Those cables connect La Paz to El Alto, where many of the protesters come from. Shutting them down isolates the city further, deepens the crisis. It's both a consequence of the violence and a tool that makes the blockade more effective.
Six months in, and Paz is already facing this. What does that tell you?
That either his government moved too fast on something people rejected, or that the opposition never accepted his legitimacy to begin with. Probably both. The fact that such different groups—farmers, workers, Morales loyalists—are aligned suggests the discontent runs deep.