The Ethical and Moral Collapse of a Nation | El Colapso Ético y Moral de una Nación

By Alfonso Gumucio Dagron, Brujula Digital:

Pachamamista Corruption

Never in the history of Bolivia have there been governments as corrupt as those of the MAS, not even during the military dictatorships so eager to enrich themselves in power. Never, in 200 years of the republic, has corruption been so widespread, both in the number of swindlers and the amounts embezzled. In the pre-MAS governments, there were crooks, but I challenge anyone to show with concrete data if, before 2006, there were as many proven cases of corruption as there have been since then.

In less than two years, two Ministers of Environment and Water from Luis Arce Catacora’s government fell under corruption accusations. The most recent, Alan Lisperguer, had purchased nine properties in seven months, almost all in Cochabamba, and increased his personal accounts with “voluntary” contributions from his ministry’s officials—a generalized form of extortion under MAS governments, although isolated cases may have existed before. Lisperguer is accused of “suspicious bank deposits, irregular movements, false information, and disproportionate asset growth.” According to the Public Prosecutor’s Office (not an invention of the opposition), the former minister had seven bank accounts and received 43 deposits in two of them between 2021 and 2024, totaling 1,110,270.48 Bolivianos.

Just a year earlier, his predecessor, Juan Santos Cruz (not saintly at all), was sentenced for corruption and is currently in prison until some equally corrupt judge discreetly releases him. Cruz was accused of receiving 19 million Bolivianos (about $2.8 million USD at the official exchange rate) in bribes from various companies and acquiring 27 properties. Like most scoundrels, he argued that he was a victim of a “media attack by the radical right and internal enemies,” but he couldn’t deny the evidence of the bribes received. That’s just what’s known… the tip of the iceberg. Generally, in corruption cases, much remains hidden through intermediaries or family members.

I can’t forget that in Evo Morales’ first government, Abel Mamani, the Minister of Environment and Water, was also involved in a scandal of corruption and immorality. He enjoyed tourist trips to Europe and was photographed drunk with a sex worker. He was dismissed (but not prosecuted), and in 2017, as if nothing had happened, he was appointed director of the National Protected Areas Service (Sernap). Recently, Sernap’s director, “Johnson” Jiménez, was dismissed for the misuse of state property and other dirty deeds. Corrupt officials sometimes fall but are later recycled, rarely prosecuted for their crimes, and almost never return the stolen funds.

The country has never experienced such a vertical decline in ethics and collective morality. Embezzlement, misuse of state property, influence peddling, smuggling, land grabbing, and drug trafficking “laundering” are now “normal,” so common they are part of everyday life, and people have grown accustomed to living this way. The normalization of corruption has even infected governorships and municipalities not controlled by MAS, such as in Santa Cruz and La Paz. We live in a country where any municipal inspector or cashier at Banco Unión is a potential criminal. Not even state universities have been spared from corruption: we have seen the cowardly behavior of successive rectors of the Universidad Mayor de San Andrés (UMSA), who didn’t prosecute the “dinosaur students” Max Mendoza and Álvaro Quelali, both corrupt and corrupters for five decades in that academic space.

Impunity reigns everywhere. From the president (whether it be Evo Morales or Luis Arce Catacora) to ministers, vice ministers, deputies, senators, mayors, council members, governors, and so on, the majority have skeletons in their closets. We are no longer surprised if the corrupt are indigenous “decolonizers” who represent the “moral reserve of humanity,” according to the Chapare leader, himself accused of statutory rape, sexual abuse, and human trafficking (in addition to sedition and terrorism, usurpation of duties, electoral fraud, military seduction, genocide, and crimes against public health). If these are the “moral reserve,” I shudder to think what those outside this privileged nucleus, supposedly saving humanity from spiritual collapse, might be like.

Corruption in all its forms and manifestations is a hallmark of MAS governments. The number of cases needed to judge corrupt officials would be endless, but it must be done to preserve the dignity of future generations. Until this happens, Bolivia will remain a country of criminals.

I dare say that in our “justice” system, one out of every 100 lawyers, prosecutors, judges, notaries, etc., is honest, and the remaining 99 are corrupt—or waiting for the chance to become so. I told this to a lawyer friend recently, and he agreed because he knows it’s true: the profession is rotten. No one in Bolivia studies law to defend it but to twist it. It’s a career for those with self-esteem and ethics scraping the bottom. A verse from my friend Jaime Nisttahuz goes: “Where it says lawyer, line 20, page 1040, it should say has stolen.”

My capacity for astonishment is limitless, and my memory doesn’t fail me as much as others’. Perplexity overwhelms me each time a headline announces an act of corruption by state officials whom we pay to serve us but who quickly show their true colors as scoundrels. They don’t become corrupt upon entering government; they enter government to reveal what they’ve always been but hadn’t yet had the chance to display.

And yet, there is neither memory nor sanctions. When there are sanctions, they don’t last. We read about corrupt officials being dismissed and imprisoned, but we rarely learn when, how, or why they were released before serving their sentences. Worse, we don’t know that they already have another government job, in less visible positions, where they probably continue stealing freely.

How can we explain that deputy substitute Jorge Rengel Terrazas hasn’t been stripped of his parliamentary immunity after transferring a staggering $51 million USD to nine bank accounts in four countries—Belgium, Ivory Coast, Germany, and Turkey? With no shame, he justified it by claiming he “earned” this astronomical sum through the illegal business of smuggling “chuto” cars. Yet the scoundrel still roams the Legislative Assembly, adorned with gold chains, impostor ponchos, and dark glasses to hide his shifty eyes. The same can be said of the former president of deputies, now hiding, Israel Huaytari. Likewise, deputy Juan José Jaúregui, accused of soliciting sexual favors from minors, remains unprosecuted. The manifestations of corruption are endless.

Have we already forgotten Edgar Patana, the mayor of El Alto, caught red-handed in a corruption scandal? A video shows him receiving thousands of dollars as a bribe. He was jailed because the crime was too blatant, but he’s likely out by now, committing new crimes.

What about Santos Ramírez, Evo Morales’ “brother” in arms and camaraderie? After multimillion-dollar bribes as president of YPFB, with a murder thrown in, he served a few years in prison and is now free for “good behavior.” Other corruption cases in YPFB involved the administrations of Jorge Alvarado (irregular contract with Brazil), Carlos Villegas (Rio Grande and Gran Chaco separation plants), and Guillermo Achá (drill scandals).

Relentlessly, we could add a long list where the most notorious and visible cases include the Indigenous Development Fund (Fondioc), with over a dozen crooks from “social movements,” and the Chinese company CAMCE, or the “Zapata case,” referring to one of Evo Morales’ mistresses. The list doesn’t end there. Add the Quiborax scandal led by Héctor Arce Zaconeta, now ambassador to the OAS, and his law firm; the Chinese barges; police anti-drug czars turned drug traffickers; Wilson Cáceres and Edwin Characayo, two corrupt ministers of Rural Development and Lands; and two Education Ministers, Adrián Quelca and Édgar Pary—the former charged in 2021 for dereliction of duty in the “exam trafficking” case, and the latter for influence peddling and other schemes. In the Neurona Consulting case, which I helped expose (a phantom Mexican company with multimillion-dollar contracts with the government for propaganda), former Communication Minister Gisela López should be prosecuted. And so the chain of corruption and names continues, too many to remember.

And how much more don’t we know, waiting to be revealed when MAS leaves office, or buried forever as the swindlers launder their ill-gotten gains?

Simply placing side by side the headlines on MAS government corruption over the past nearly 20 years would fill a book as thick as In Search of Lost Time. Perhaps not, because Proust’s novel deals directly with memory, and in Bolivia, we are stubbornly forgetful.

@AlfonsoGumucio is a writer and filmmaker

2 Comments Add yours

  1. free range slave's avatar free range slave says:

    the ethical and moral collapse of a nation is merely a mirror of the world. compare it to the american government and you see it is replicated in 99 percent of all nations…

    i would suggest that the actual article to include when it was written. i am not sure if posting date of 25.01.18 is that of an article that might have been written years ago…

    we need a united peoples court of the world to prosecute government abuse no matter where it is.

    thanks for the easy comment section…no log in…oops…dang you do force me to make a dummy email account…oh well…

    1. TKS for you kind comment, the date of the original document, as published, appears when you visit the link at the end.

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