The Historical Significance of the Cochabamba Factory Workers' Strike

[Joanne98]

If neoliberalism left something intact, it was the factory workers movement
Oscar Olivera F.*
July 7, 2008
Cochabamba, Bolivia - We write these lines from a very important place for us as Cochabamba factory workers, an ancient building, located in the very heart of Cochabamba. This building is the patrimony of our dear old workers, who in 1960 bought it with their collective social security funds, but was in other moments, a hotel where the Cochabambino oligarchs danced, entertained themselves and spent the night.

Fifty years ago, this building was converted into a space where not only important men and women—social justice fighters—spoke their minds, but also a place in which we—the people of the city and the countryside—established a space of autonomy, deliberation, dignity and decision-making and collective action in order to recuperate our VOICE and our ability to become indignant and decide for ourselves.

This building was testimony to the plans formed by Ché who, according to what our few remaining elder communist friends tell us, came to organize a guerilla around 1966.

This building then became the site of incarceration and suffering: offices converted into cells where dozens of social justice fighters were tortured, raped and humiliated…we can still hear the cry of our brothers and sisters who tell us of what happened during the dictatorships when the paramilitaries took over this building and forbid unions. In other words, this building is our heir. It holds the struggles and collective, horizontal, joyous and dignified actions of the men and women of this valley.

It is here, during this cold June and July, where a handful of us factory workers are now days into a hunger strike. There are younger leaders here, like Mario Quilo and Mario Céspedez; there are former noble and accomplished leaders like Max Fuentes, José Santa Cruz and José Chalar; there are Factory Worker Confederation leaders like Hernán Vásquez, Jaime Siñani and Rene Albino, who came from La Paz to our tradition of supporting their brothers and sisters in Manaco, a shoe factory and subsidiary of the Czech transnational Bata. We are here, supporting the struggle for the right to work and life of Alejandro Saravia, a 56 year-old worker who has spent 28 of those under the intense discipline demanded by capital in this 700 person factory.

A simple shoemaker, Alejandro has rural ties and has a serious but sweet wife named Petrona. They have a few children, the oldest being a source of great worry because at 18 years old, he, César, is starting his mandatory military service.

These kinds of reflexions come about during this type of gathering: the seemingly mundane worries of Alejandro, a man who wakes up at 5am because his routine of waking up at dawn to arrive at the factory has created an internal clock, become worries for us all.

These six days of hunger strike have allowed those of us who work or worked in Manaco, to relive stories full of dignity, solidarity and reciprocity, of anguish and joy, of our struggles and encounters during the last 30 years. We remember our brothers’ and sisters’ nicknames, and we remember also the persecution—living in clandestinity, assasinations of our comrades in struggle. As Max here says: Let these words be a product of reliving that historical memory which we find marvelously fresh and intact thanks to this strike creating that marvel and blessing.

If neoliberalism left something intact, it was the factory worker movement, the industrial workers of the cities who, despite all the difficulties of this 25 year of struggle, have managed to maintain our culture and values, tucked inside our hearts and veins and houses and factories and union headquarters.
http://www.ubnoticias.org/en/article/the-historical-significance-of-the-cochabamba-factory-workers-strike