MAS 101: Why Did MAS Last 20 Years? | ¿Por qué el MAS duró 20 años?

By Renzo Abruzzese, Brujula Digital:

The rise of the Movimiento al Socialismo (MAS) and the arrival of Evo Morales to the presidency in 2006 marked a historic rupture for Bolivia. For broad sectors of society, particularly Indigenous ones, this change represented much more than a political alternation: it was seen as the correction of historic injustices and the fulfillment of a long-overdue social debt.

Thus began the hope of achieving unprecedented social inclusion and a state refoundation oriented toward justice. However, as Evo Morales’s first government advanced, the epic narrative of transformation began to clash with democratic visions, beyond any racial criteria. The result was a gradual radicalization of the state’s discourse and a clearly defined drift toward an authoritarian populism, firmly inscribed in the “Socialism of the 21st Century.”

In this context, the theory of cognitive dissonance emerges as an essential analytical tool to understand how Bolivian society managed the tension between democracy and authoritarianism. In theory, this refers to the psychological discomfort that arises from trying to reconcile two incompatible ideas—on one hand, the belief that the government guarantees democracy; on the other, the realization of Evo Morales’s authoritarian and highly personalist “style.”

For those who finally felt included within the State, recognizing possible authoritarian flaws in the MAS project entailed a high emotional and existential cost. Accepting such a contradiction meant dismantling not only a political stance but an entire newly acquired identity and sense of political belonging—something not even the MNR achieved in its best moments.

Faced with this crossroads, society largely opted for active denial of the danger, choosing the psychologically least painful path: accepting the progressive deterioration of the democracy born in 1982 as the price for the “process of change.”

Within that process, the MAS regime deployed a wide range of mechanisms to facilitate and manage the cognitive dissonance that arose from the regime’s increasingly authoritarian character. State actions such as the judicial persecution of opponents, civic leaders, or any citizen who dared to confront the regime were presented as the “restoration of justice”—as if settling accounts after 500 years of subjugation and rightfully punishing the “corrupt elites of the past.”

This semantic manipulation initially allowed citizens to perceive the State’s actions not as arbitrariness but as legitimate responses. The terminological shift—subtle but constant—helped reduce the discomfort of confronting abuse.

To this was added the systematic construction of the enemy. The MAS skillfully identified both external threats (imperialism, foreign interference) and internal ones (racist opposition, “sellouts,” the “right wing”). This strategy provided a psychological escape valve.

Events such as the assassination at the Las Américas Hotel, the violent intervention against the 2011 TIPNIS indigenous march, the kidnapping of the Santa Cruz governor, or the criminal prosecutions of opposition figures could thus be reinterpreted—not as failures of the “process of change,” but, from the perspective of social psychology, as expressions of cognitive dissonance that freed citizens from the anxiety produced by escalating state violence.

Despite everything, the regime has endured for 20 years with few setbacks beyond the negative results of the 2016 and 2019 referendums, when the dictator was expelled by a powerful civic mobilization. Why did it last so long? To explain both the regime’s stability and the psychological fatigue of the citizenry, one can point to a mechanism typical of authoritarian systems: the progressive normalization of change.

Restrictions on the democratic system were introduced gradually—a process far easier to assimilate than an abrupt rupture. During Morales’s first government, incremental modifications were implemented, from the co-optation of the judiciary to attempts to legalize indefinite reelection.

Each step produced manageable discomfort, allowing citizens to convince themselves that the situation was not dangerous but rather a natural evolution of the new State. Genuine criticism was postponed indefinitely. To this was added the use of exemplary punishments.

The imprisonment of opposition leaders or the downfall of former officials served as tacit warnings. For the ordinary citizen, it was psychologically safer to deny reality than to face repression or marginalization. In a context of political polarization, acknowledging the existence of danger meant exposing oneself to personal consequences.

In summary, the stability of the MAS regime during its first decade cannot be understood without considering the deep dynamics of cognitive dissonance. Denial of danger—reinforced by constant propaganda and the clever management of language, media, and social networks—not only enabled the continuity of the political project but consolidated a social consensus in which obedience became the safest route.

The renunciation of deep criticism ultimately became the psychological price paid to avoid anxiety and maintain the shared illusion of a better future. The breaking point of this psychosocial phenomenon came at two moments: in 2016, with the referendum that denied Morales another reelection, and in 2019, with a massive citizen mobilization and widespread protest that expelled him from power. The rest of the story is well known. As if waking from a nightmare, the democratic consciousness of the citizenry reemerged forcefully. We are now at the culmination of a process of psychosocial, moral, and political recovery of the national society.

Renzo Abruzzese is a social researcher.

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