LA PAZ, Bolivia -- The government of Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada, Bolivia's president, is on the verge of collapse. He has the lowest ratings of any South American leader, and admits coups are brewing beneath him.
Last week he sought relief from his ally, the United States, and received $10 million in aid and some kind words about the vitality of Bolivian democracy. But analysts warn that the more he looks for U.S. support, the further he drives himself from his people and out of office.
It is a difficult situation for Sanchez de Lozada, who grew up in the United States, speaks with an American accent and has staked much of his political fortunes on his relationship with the U.S. government.
After taking office, he agreed to enforce a U.S.-led drug eradication program and to complete a multibillion-dollar energy deal to exploit Bolivia's natural gas fields. In return he would receive some $150 million in U.S. military and development aid every year.
Six months along, things have begun to fall apart.
The illegal cultivation of coca -- the base ingredient of cocaine -- has increased tenfold in Bolivia's jungle hinterlands.
The energy plan is indefinitely on hold due to threats of civil upheaval should Sanchez de Lozada export gas through Chile, Bolivia's archenemy, which usurped the nation's ocean access 120 years ago.
In a country with a long string of interchangeable presidents ousted in bloody coups, Sanchez de Lozada looks vulnerably devoid of popular support.
He has no majority in Congress, where a fifth of the congressmen are from a socialist-leaning indigenous party and block him at every turn.
Inconvenient alliance
He is hampered by an alliance he made with a rival party to secure enough votes to win the election; the two don't seem to agree on much of anything.
The nation's business leaders don't trust him, calling him weak. Daily marches of striking teachers, nurses and fruit vendors tie up traffic in the capital.
The nation's economy is recording negative growth five years into a recession.
Sanchez de Lozada's only concrete achievement in six months has been to secure $10 million in emergency aid from the United States.
The question now floating in La Paz is: does the United States need Sanchez de Lozada as much as he needs it?
"Sanchez de Lozada is not a favorable leader to the U.S. right now," said Juan Ramon Quintana, a political analyst in La Paz. "He simply cannot give the U.S. government everything it wants without collapsing in the process."
The son of a diplomat, Sanchez de Lozada spent his childhood in the United States and graduated from the University of Chicago with a literature degree.
Upon return to Bolivia he found his fortune in gold mining and became an ardent proponent of liberal economic policies outlined by Washington, privatizing nearly all the nation's public utilities.
Today, at 72, Sanchez de Lozada has lived in Bolivia for some 50 years and still speaks with a thick, albeit stylish, American accent.
His political problems began in January.
The nation's coca growers, upset with the eradication plan, blockaded the nation's highways and commerce. Meat in warehouses rotted, pineapples fermented, businessmen steamed.
The president sent in troops and eleven civilians died. Human rights activists criticized him, but the U.S. refused to relax its zero-tolerance policy on coca eradication.
His problems got worse in February.
Striking police officers led a protests against a new income tax mandated by the International Monetary Fund.
The president sent in troops. Cops shot at soldiers who shot at civilians. Riots turned to looting. Looters burned buildings and 33 people died with another 200 injured.
After the riots, the president called on the United States and other European "friendly nations" to bail his government out with $50 million in emergency aid.
So far, the U.S. has been the only country to donate as the nation's government stagnates.
Sanchez de Lozada's approval rating has fallen to 19 percent, the lowest in South America. Today, he has America's verbal support, but not his people's. That, for any politician, is a dangerous situation to be in.
"Right now a massive international assistance package is the only possible substitute for a lack of mandate," said Adam Isacson, a senior associate at the Center for International Policy. "But at the end of the day, being loved by your people is much better than being loved by the IMF."
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.