He suggests that Bolivians, rather than cynically moaning about price hikes in fuel, should re-examine the five questions of the July 18th referendum, that “the questions point towards change, they have a sense of a new vision, a sense of recuperation by the State, of higher taxes and better deals with the petroleum companies operating in Bolivia, without a doubt.” The fact is, those five questions (which were inexplicably drafted in Washington), have been examined thoroughly by many parties, and a consensus as to their exact meaning has yet to be reached. In the weeks prior to the referendum, even the Bolivian Minister of Hydrocarbons confessed not to understand them fully, and admitted that in the event of a yes vote, the Bolivian Congress would have the unenviable job of trying to interpret them.

Mesa speaks of change, and pretends that the referendum heralds that change. Yet one of the most seemingly simple questions on the ballot – regarding the desirability of the State recuperating gas from the well head – is actually a bit more complicated than that.

I was in Bolivia to cover the referendum, and the one thing that everyone – from the various government functionaries quoted in newspapers, to Mesa himself, to the alteños on the barricades – agreed on was that the recuperation would not apply to the existing contracts Bolivia has with oil companies. Seventy-eight oil companies, to be exact. And if I remember correctly, those contracts would be fulfilled, meaning that those 78 companies could continue extracting gas at the world’s lowest costs for the next 39 years.

What will be remaining of Bolivia’s gas after 39 years? A hollow shell, like that created by the Spanish when they emptied Potosí of its silver? This is the “change” and “new vision” that Mesa brags about?

It was that very question which led some people to refer to the election as a vote on nationalization, yet nowhere on the ballot did that word appear, except when scrawled across it in protest. I see that question, not as having the slightest thing to do with nationalization, but rather, as a complete obfuscation, serving the interests of those who, like Mesa, can afford to pay the higher prices on diesl and gasoline.

Mesa tries to discredit his opponents by saying that they are small in number, that he cannot imagine them counting as many as 10,000, and he complains that it isn’t fair for them to be preventing him from governing, saying,  “It’s not fair that after the popular response to the referendum [sic], of the municipal elections [won overwhelmingly by the opposition MAS], the productive dialogue [resulting in...?], that small groups of people come back to shove us up against the wall with an excuse [the price hikes], and nothing more than an excuse.” To refer to the price hikes as an excuse shows a complete lack of understanding of a largely poor and spread out population which depends on transportation for its livelihood. The people of Bolivia have more “excuses” than most to rise up against their government, and I expect that in the days and weeks to come, we will see if his estimate of less than 10,000 holds any water, transnationally provided, or otherwise.

Dan makes a point above, that I feel is worth reiterating: one must remember, while reading Mesa’s televised address, that the referendum on which he hangs his entire mandate and legitimacy saw forty percent of the electorate abstaining and fifteen percent of ballots either blank or void. This resulted in only about forty-five percent of the electorate having voted at all (and even less voting yes). Not much on which to base one’s legitimacy.

Mesa then goes on to say that while he is busy governing, “those who are not governing have the luxury of asking for utopia, the heavens, the sun, the moon, and the stars.” This is patently absurd. In Bolivia, no one is asking for utopia; people are too busy courageously fighting to bring former President Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada to justice for his role in the massacres of October, 2003. The heavens are not on their list of demands; instead they are going for the Constituent’s Assembly, promised them that same October when Mesa assumed power. As for the sun, they’d rather have affordable drinking water, as evidenced by the people of El Alto’s eviction of the transnational Aguas del Illimari. The moon and stars can wait too. Oscar Olivera, in his response to Mesa’s address to the nation, sums up quite clearly what people are asking for: “The people want to participate, the people want another kind of democracy, the people want economic security, the people don’t want more anxiety.”

Mesa would do well to stop believing his own press and yes men (referendum-related and otherwise) and pay attention to the people he claims to represent, who are making their demands as clear as could be imagined.

The final thing that drew my attention was Mesa’s theorizing about what might happen this week if violence continues or increases. What Gissel reports is, of course, true: Mesa stated that he isn’t like Goni and that there will be no tanks in the streets or state violence. Confusingly, he says those words sometime after leading his audience through a lengthy and elaborate “hypothesis,” the possibility that “protesters and activists in any city in the country decide to assault offices, burn buildings, attack state symbols such as the National Palace or Parliament...a hypothesis of a situation of growing violence, the occupation, for example, of the offices of Aguas del Illimani, would oblige the government not only to guard the perimeters of many public and private offices, but also to use tear gas and to contain the violence with violence, and that we would lose Bolivian lives. What would you say if in 5 or 6 or 7 days, [I] had to return to give you the message of 1 or 2 or 3 or 5 or 10 dead fellow citizens?”

How is one supposed to read that? Is this a message to the right-wingers who are demanding that he get on with governing (a euphemism for cracking down)? Is it a threat? And if so, how are we supposed to read his later declarations of stepping down from power rather than resorting to violence? Who is President Carlos Mesa, really? A pacifist who doesn’t want to meet the fate of his former boss and end up exiled in Miami, or a hardliner with a “hypothesis?”