A nation's capital surrounded and cut off from itself
In La Paz, a political demand for a president's resignation has crossed into the older, darker territory of civic unrest — where grievance becomes destruction and the line between protest and chaos disappears. Supporters of former president Evo Morales, joined by labor unions and indigenous communities, have surrounded the symbolic heart of Bolivian power for nearly two weeks, leaving the capital isolated from the rest of the nation. What unfolds now is a familiar human question: whether a society in rupture can find its way back to negotiation before the damage — to buildings, to bodies, to trust — becomes irreversible.
- Demonstrators hurling dynamite and stones at riot police transformed Plaza Murillo, Bolivia's seat of government, into a battleground on Monday.
- The Departmental Court of Justice was broken into and ransacked, cable car stations were smashed, a police officer was severely beaten, and street vendors watched their livelihoods looted and destroyed.
- For thirteen consecutive days, road blockades organized by the Tupac Katari Peasant Federation have severed La Paz from the rest of Bolivia, with additional disruptions spreading to Oruro, Cochabamba, and Chuquisaca.
- The government accuses Evo Morales of orchestrating the unrest as a calculated bid to reclaim power, while the Ombudsman's Office has recorded fifteen attacks on journalists in just one week.
- With no negotiated resolution in sight, the capital remains encircled — and the question of whether escalation or dialogue will define what comes next hangs unanswered.
Monday's demonstrations in La Paz began as a political demand and ended in broken windows and burning vehicles. Supporters of former president Evo Morales marched into the capital alongside labor unions, Aymara farmers, and social organizations from El Alto, united around a single call: President Rodrigo Paz must resign. What started as a convergence of grievances quickly became something harder to contain.
Protesters advanced on Plaza Murillo — the symbolic seat of Bolivian power — hurling stones and dynamite at riot police. Officers responded with tear gas, and in the chaos that followed, the boundary between protest and destruction dissolved. Groups broke into private buildings for shelter from the gas; others lit fires from papers and wood to counteract the chemical sting.
The damage spread citywide. The Departmental Court of Justice was broken into, its furniture destroyed and items stolen. Cable car stations connecting La Paz to El Alto — infrastructure used by thousands daily — were heavily damaged, and a police officer guarding one facility was severely beaten. The state-run Mi Teleférico suspended service on four lines. A police vehicle was set ablaze, street vendors reported their small businesses looted, and the Ombudsman's Office documented fifteen attacks on journalists and four on press equipment between May 12 and 18.
The crisis runs deeper than a single day of unrest. For thirteen days, the La Paz department has been cut off from the rest of Bolivia by roadblocks maintained by the Tupac Katari Peasant Federation and allied unions. Route disruptions have also appeared in Oruro, Cochabamba, and Chuquisaca. The government, six months into Paz's administration, blames Morales for orchestrating the mobilizations as a bid to reclaim power. Whether the blockades will intensify or give way to negotiation — and what kind of Bolivia emerges from the deadlock — remains an open and urgent question.
Monday's demonstrations in La Paz began as a political demand and ended in broken windows and burning vehicles. Supporters of former president Evo Morales had marched into the capital, joining forces with labor unions, Aymara farmers, and social organizations from the neighboring city of El Alto. Their message was singular: President Rodrigo Paz must resign. What started as a convergence of grievances became something harder to contain.
The protesters moved toward Plaza Murillo, the symbolic heart of Bolivian power, where the government headquarters and parliament sit. They ringed the surrounding streets, hurling stones and dynamite charges at riot police positioned to hold the line. Officers responded with tear gas, and in the chaos that followed, the boundary between protest and destruction dissolved. Groups of demonstrators pried open doors of private buildings to use as shields against the gas. Others grabbed papers and wood from inside, building fires to counteract the chemical sting in the air.
The damage spread across the city. At the Departmental Court of Justice, video footage captured protesters breaking in, destroying furniture, and stealing items. Another group attacked a separate entrance to the courthouse with rocks. Cable car stations linking La Paz to El Alto—infrastructure that moves thousands daily—took heavy hits, particularly one in the historic center where demonstrators smashed office windows and severely beat a police officer guarding the facility. The state-run Mi Teleférico suspended service on that line and three others where the marches had passed through.
A police vehicle parked near the headquarters of the Special Force to Fight Crime was set ablaze. Street vendors reported that protesters looted and destroyed their small businesses. The human toll extended beyond property: between May 12 and 18, the Ombudsman's Office documented fifteen cases of aggression against journalists and four attacks on press equipment during coverage of the unrest.
The crisis extends far beyond Monday's chaos. For thirteen days, the La Paz department has been cut off from the rest of Bolivia. The Tupac Katari Peasant Federation, working with labor unions, has maintained roadblocks that have isolated the region entirely. Additional route cuts have appeared in the departments of Oruro, Cochabamba, and Chuquisaca. The government, now six months into Paz's administration, has blamed Morales for orchestrating the mobilizations as a bid to reclaim power. What remains unclear is whether the blockades and street actions will continue to escalate, or whether negotiation might yet break the deadlock that has left a nation's capital surrounded and cut off.
Citas Notables
The government has pointed to Morales as the promoter of the mobilizations, in an 'attempt' to return to power— The Paz administration
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did Morales supporters join this particular moment? What triggered the convergence?
The source doesn't specify a single trigger, but Paz has been president for only six months. There's clearly accumulated frustration—enough that multiple groups, from labor to indigenous farmers, moved at the same time. Morales himself hasn't been in office since 2019, so this isn't about defending his current policies. It's about opposition to Paz.
The vandalism seems almost secondary to the blockade. Thirteen days of isolation sounds like the real pressure point.
Exactly. The street violence in La Paz gets the headlines, but the roadblocks are the stranglehold. When a region is cut off from the rest of the country for nearly two weeks, you're talking about supply chains breaking, commerce freezing, people unable to leave or enter. That's structural leverage.
And the government's response—blaming Morales for orchestrating it all—does that hold up given what we're seeing?
The source presents it as the government's claim, not as established fact. What we know is that Morales supporters showed up and joined existing mobilizations. Whether he directed it or simply benefits from the chaos is a different question the reporting doesn't answer.
The beating of the police officer and the attacks on journalists—those details matter for understanding the temperature of things.
They do. They suggest this isn't organized protest anymore. Once you're beating individual officers and targeting people documenting events, you've crossed into something less controlled. The Ombudsman's office felt compelled to document it separately, which signals concern about the breakdown of norms.
What happens next? Does this resolve through negotiation, or does it harden?
The source doesn't say. But when a capital is surrounded and cut off, and when street-level violence is already occurring, the pressure builds in both directions—on the government to concede or crack down, and on the protesters to either escalate or stand down. Something has to give.