When I first spotted Radio Nacional Huanuni while walking up a 
dusty street in a rundown mining town, I knew there was something 
different about this station from the dozens of others I had 
visited. It was surrounded by a high fence topped with barbed 
wire, the building had thick fortress-like walls, and the antenna 
towers were on the building itself, not outside of town. Inside 
was even stranger. Although the offices were on the first floor, 
the studio, transmitters, and generator were in well-shielded 
corners in the basement. I asked the assistant director, who was 
giving me a tour, about this. He looked up and calmly replied, 
"We need to keep the station on the air while we are defending 
ourselves from the army. In 1980 we held out for three days."   
  
But this brutal life produced strong bonds among the miners. They 
knew they produced Bolivia's wealth and they knew they deserved 
better. Periodic strikes and rebellions were always bloodily 
crushed, but the miners never lost their spirit. Around 1946 some 
miners and teachers in the Siglo Viente mines began to fight back 
through clandestine radio. Using homemade equipment, "Radio 
Sucre" broadcast to the miners irregularly until discovered by 
the army and destroyed in 1949.   
  
This time the forces of change were stonger than anyone imagined. 
In April, 1952 urban workers and university students joined tin 
miners and Indian peasants under the MNR banner in a truly 
populist coup against the military. Early on, the MNR captured 
the government radio station, Radio Illimani, and turned the 
station into their communciations center. It was just two blocks 
from the focus of military resistance at the Presidential Palace, 
and a bloody street battle raged between the two sites and 
elsewhere in the city for three days before the army surrendered. 
  
The new government went to work and new laws were enacted to 
protect workers, legalize trade unions, allow rural peasants to 
acquire land, and extend the vote to all adult citizens. To end 
political manipulations by the big mine owners, the mines were 
nationalized. Obtaining broadcasting licenses also became easier, 
and within a few months the new miners' union had started two 
stations, La Voz del Minero in Siglo Viente and nearby Radio 21 
de Diciembre (commemorating a 1942 massacre of striking miners). 
  
The Indians' strong oral traditions made radio a very effective 
means of communication, as the miners quickly realized. Each 
mining community and local union wanted its own station. In some 
towns, miners donated a day's pay each month towards equipment. 
Radio San Jose in Oruro raised money by collecting empty burlap 
sacks and jars for their deposits. By 1956, the miners had 19 
stations averaging 220 watts. Some operated without a license 
until they got around to applying for one. Some never got around 
to it. Because the station staff were of the mines, there was a 
sense of oneness between station and audience not often found in 
broadcasting. The miners remained poor, but now they had strength 
and hope. As other unions, including the peasants' union and 
railroad workers' union, established their own stations, Bolivia 
became the only country in the world where small grass-roots 
unions were an important part of the broadcasting system.   
 
  
Meanwhile, the Catholic Church had decided that Latin America was 
about to fall to Communism, starting with Bolivia's mines. 
Several Canadian Oblate priests were sent to Siglo Veinte to save 
the people, and their main tool would be radio. With financial 
support from the Church and political support from the MNR, Radio 
Pio Doce (Pius XII) was founded in 1959 to eradicate "alcoholism, 
psychosis, and Communism". The most modern and professional 
station in Bolivia, its 2000 watt transmitter effectively covered 
most of the country. The miners' stations, especially cross-town 
La Voz del Minero, were the enemy and the priests went after them 
with a vengeance. For the next five years, the icy mountain air 
was heated by a viscious war of words between Pio Doce and the 
miners' network. A few miners, not content with words, put Pio 
Doce off the air briefly twice by dynamiting the antenna towers. 
  
But the effect of Pio Doce was not totally bad. The competition 
forced the miners to improve their stations and previously 
amateurish broadcasting gave way to professional standards. The 
stations developed a programming formula still in effect today 
with a mix of news, folk music, education and information, and 
union messages. Local events including festivals and meetings 
were broadcast live. Either Spanish or Indian languages were 
used, depending on what was spoken in each community. Union dues 
covered most expenses with carefully selected advertising adding 
a bit extra.   
Pio Doce was the impetus for the 1959 founding of Radio Nacional 
Huanuni, the first miners' station with professional imported 
equipment (from France). It became the pilot station of the 
Cadena Nacional Minera network as additional stations brought the 
network up to 28 stations. Actually, there has  never been a 
formal network structure. Each station was independent, but the 
stations sometimes listened to and talked to one another on the 
air to exchange information. It wasn't efficient, but it promoted 
a deep unity among the stations, a unity that would be needed in 
the years ahead.   
    
  
The sudden repression by the Barrientos government, however, 
caused an unexpected political shift. The reality of how the 
miners lived and were treated had sunk in slowly to the priests 
at Radio Pio Doce. Communist subversion, they saw, was not the 
enemy here, but rather a brutal economic system that might make 
Communism the only hope for change. When Barrientos placed the 
mines under military rule, the priests made a 180 degree turn and 
became strong defenders of the miners and their rights, heavily 
criticizing the government. The miners' stations were closed, but 
this new voice took their place. The switch of Radio Pio Doce 
gave the miners renewed strength and hope just when it was needed 
most.   
By 1967, the miners could take no more and strikes broke out 
across the country. When hundreds of miners and their families 
gathered outside the mines at Siglo Viente, the army marched in 
and opened fire, massacreing men, women, and children. The event 
was to have been covered up, but Radio Pio Doce went on the air 
detailing the massacre to the rest of the country, so the troops 
retaliated by destroying the station. But political pressure from 
the Catholic Church forced the government to allow Pio Doce to 
reopen, and funds from abroad poured in to rebuild it. The events 
in Siglo Viente had created a bond of blood between Radio Pio 
Doce and the miners, who now considered the station as one of 
their own.   
The miners' fortunes changed in 1969 when Barrientos was killed 
in a helicopter crash. The next two years Boliva had two military 
presidents, but they were less authoritarian and allowed the 
miners' stations to reopen and rebuild. But the iron hand struck 
again on August 21, 1971 with a coup by General Hugo Banzer. 
Again, political dissent was strictly repressed and one of his 
first acts was to close the miners' stations (although a few were 
eventually allowed to reopen). But Banzer couldn't touch Pio Doce 
without alienating the Church, so it became an important voice 
for the miners' rights. Other religious stations such as Baptist 
La Cruz del Sur and Catholic Radio Fides in La Paz joined in 
supporting the miners. Some stations, such as these two, offered 
training programs to personnel from the miners' stations, making 
them more effective once they got back on the air. In an unusual 
move in 1974, the Banzer government distributed 5,000 TV sets in 
mining communities trying to get the miners to watch commercial 
TV instead of listening to the radio, but it never proved 
popular.    
In 1978, after seven years of Banzer, four miners' wives began a 
hunger strike demanding the reopening of miners' radio stations 
and amnesty for miners arrested for political reasons.  Within 
two weeks, two thousand more women joined the strike and it 
became a catalyst for more widespread opposition to the 
government. Embarrassed, Banzer was forced to call elections, but 
when his hand-picked successor was fraudulently declared the 
winner, Bolivia erupted into political chaos. For two years, coup 
followed coup, sometimes just weeks apart, as factions within the 
military jockeyed for power. But gradually a consensus emerged 
that Bolivia had to be returned to democratic rule. An interim 
civilian government under Bolivia's first woman president, Lydia 
Guelier, was formed, and elections scheduled for May, 1980. When 
Hernan Siles, a moderate politician from the old MNR won, 
everything seemed well on track for his August inauguration.   
  
On July 17, 1980, the coup began with a garrison uprising in a 
provincial capital. When the military in La Paz remained loyal, 
the congress and officials of Guelier's government met in the 
Presidential Palace to discuss a plan of action, just as coup 
leader General Luis Garcia had expected. The La Paz forces now 
moved in on the palace and easily arrested almost the entire 
civilian government in one move. Squadrons of soldiers and the 
cocaine lords' paramilitary units fanned out over La Paz and 
other major cities arresting all potential opposition leaders, 
including Catholic Church, union, civil, and university 
officials. Even international reporters were picked up to prevent 
them from filing stories. While most officials were simply locked 
up and tortured, a few were gunned down on the spot, such as the 
losing presidential candidate of the trade unions' party. 
President-elect Siles managed to stay in hiding and make his way 
safely out of the country.   
Any coup requires control of the media and soldiers quickly 
occupied all the radio and TV stations in La Paz and other major 
cities. One station, however, had been marked for special 
treatment. Jesuit-owned Radio Fides had long been a thorn in the 
side of both the military and the drug lords for its strident 
commentaries criticizing their power. When drug smuggler Fernando 
"Mosca" Monroy lead a group of soldiers and paramilitary thugs to 
the station, they didn't bother to ask for a formal surrender. 
Instead, they opened up with machine-guns and a tank, demolishing 
the station and killing the announcer on duty, Luis Espinel.   
Garcia now controlled the cities, but he hadn't gone after the 
miners yet. The miners' stations allowed the scattered mining 
towns to communicate with one another and gave hope to the rest 
of the country listening in. Renaming their network the Cadena de 
la Democracia, the miners called for Bolivians to defend 
democracy through a total and indefinate strike. Their stations 
became the center of resistance, and Garcia's declared that 
anyone caught listening would be jailed. But, some listened 
anyway ...   
  
But Garcia hadn't won. The bloody coup followed by the drawn-out 
fight with the miners, which the international press had eagerly 
listened in on, had exposed Garcia's government as a gang of 
murderous thugs. Without international support, it couldn't 
survive. Much of the Bolivian military had remained neutral 
during the coup, and a year later they rose up and ousted Garcia. 
Bolivia was now ready for democracy and Hernan Siles finally 
became president.   
    
  
As mines closed, miners had to look elsewhere for work, and as 
they and their families moved to the cities or the booming 
farmlands of the north and east, local unions began to 
disintegrate and the miners movement began to weaken.  Radio Pio 
Doce has tried, with some success, to keep the sense of group 
cohesiveness through special programs on shortwave to former 
miners throughout the country. But even for the miners who are 
left, times continue to be tough. In April, 1993 many were 
earning just $30 a month. To keep their network functioning, the 
miners put a priority on keeping three key stations on the air, 
Radio Animas in the south, Radio Nacional Huanuni in the center, 
and Radio Milluni in the north. Of course, Catholic Pio Doce will 
be there as well.   
But perhaps we shouldn't write the orbituary to miners' radio in 
Bolivia just yet. Mining experts have recently discovered silver 
deposits outside Potosi missed by the Spanish that may be worth 
as much as six billion dollars. This could become the biggest 
mining operation in Bolivian history. And, of course, mines have 
miners, and, in Bolivia, miners have radio stations.   
 
Lozada, Fernando & Gridvia Kuncar. Bolivia: Las Radios 
Mineras 1986.  
O'Connor, Alan. The Miners' Radio Stations in Bolivia. 
Journal of Communication. Winter, 1990; 102-110.  
 
THE AGONY OF RADIO HUANUNI 
 
This article is copyright 1994 by Don Moore.
It may not be printed in any publication without written permission.  
  
 
 
 
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 BOLIVIA: RADIO UNDER THE GUN
By Don Moore

 In the unstable world of Latin American politics, nowhere more 
than Bolivia has the sudden coup and a new presidente been the 
rule of the day. Since obtaining independence from Spain in 1825, 
Bolivia has had nearly 200 governments - an average of one every 
nine months. Nearly two-thirds of Bolivia's people are Aymara or 
Quechua Indian. In colonial times those not working in the fields 
were forced into near slavery in the silver mines. An entire 
mountain of silver in Potosi made Spain the world's wealthiest 
nation in the 1500s, although the Indians that mined it gained 
nothing but hardship and death. By the late 1800s, the silver was 
gone, but the world had discovered the tin can, and Bolivia had 
the world's richest deposits of tin. The mineral was different, 
but the game was the same. A small elite class lived in luxury 
produced by miners with a lifespan of 30 years who worked twelve 
hours a day, lived in dirt-floored huts, and barely made enough 
to feed their families. In this harsh environment, half the 
children died before the age of two. Some said they were the 
lucky ones.
In the unstable world of Latin American politics, nowhere more 
than Bolivia has the sudden coup and a new presidente been the 
rule of the day. Since obtaining independence from Spain in 1825, 
Bolivia has had nearly 200 governments - an average of one every 
nine months. Nearly two-thirds of Bolivia's people are Aymara or 
Quechua Indian. In colonial times those not working in the fields 
were forced into near slavery in the silver mines. An entire 
mountain of silver in Potosi made Spain the world's wealthiest 
nation in the 1500s, although the Indians that mined it gained 
nothing but hardship and death. By the late 1800s, the silver was 
gone, but the world had discovered the tin can, and Bolivia had 
the world's richest deposits of tin. The mineral was different, 
but the game was the same. A small elite class lived in luxury 
produced by miners with a lifespan of 30 years who worked twelve 
hours a day, lived in dirt-floored huts, and barely made enough 
to feed their families. In this harsh environment, half the 
children died before the age of two. Some said they were the 
lucky ones. THE REVOLUTION COMES 
 
Before 1951, Bolivia had had few elections and in those, laws 
restricting the vote to those with education had effectively 
reserved power for the upper classes. However, this time 
Bolivia's small, growing middle class altered the equation by 
giving victory to Victor Paz and his reformist MNR party. But 
before Paz could take office, the military took over the 
government, annulled the elections, and outlawed the MNR.
POLITICS AGAIN
 
The strong bonds of the miners and their well-organized unions 
and growing network of radio stations soon made them one of the 
most powerful political and economical forces in Bolivia. 
Although they represented less than ten percent of the work force 
the miners produced two-thirds of the country's export earnings. 
The miners worked with the government, but refused to become 
subserviant to it, causing the MNR to see them as a threat to its 
power. RETURN TO REPRESSION 
 
Corrupt with power, the MNR leadership gradually moved away from 
its populist roots and began to align with the old power 
structure by nominating General Rene Barrientos for vice 
president in 1963. When pressure was put on the miners' unions to 
endorse Barrientos, they refused. A few days later a small army 
unit attacked Radio Nacional Huanuni, briefly fighting the 
hastily assembled miners protecting the station. It was a small 
incident, but the first in a long string of violence against the 
miners' stations. The miners' reservations were justified when 
just weeks after the 1964 election, vice-president Barrientos 
mobilized the military and ousted the president and congress. 
Unlike the MNR, Barrientos would tolerate no dissent. The miners' 
stations were closed and some destroyed. Then he placed the 
mining communities under military occupation and slashed the 
miners' already low wages by forty percent. THE FINAL COUP 
 
But not everyone wanted to see Siles take power. Many military 
officers were still opposed to civilian rule and Bolivia's 
cocaine lords were disturbed by Siles' promises to work more 
closely with the US DEA. Neighboring Argentina's military 
government wasn't happy about the example Bolivian democracy 
might make to the Argentine people. With advice from exiled Nazi 
Klaus Barbie ("the butcher of Lyon"), they planned and carried 
out one of the most systematic and ruthless coups in Latin 
American history. The troops are approximately five kilometers from 
Siete Suyos and very near Santa Ana ... therefore we are 
preparing to defend ourselves ... This is Radio Animas for all 
the south of the country. (O'Connor, p107) 
 
 
... Women of Catavi, come to our station to defend 
it. We know very well that Radio 21 de Diciembre is part of our 
homes, part of our husbands' salaries ... We have to unite 
ourselves as never before. Come as fast as possible to defend our 
radio station. (Lozada & Kuncar,  p203) 
 
No one knows how many miners and their wives died fighting in the 
following days. The miners fought savagely, but the military was 
stronger. At least one station was bombed by the Air Force. 
Gradually the miners were conquered and their stations silenced. 
The last miners' station, Radio Viloco held out until August 6, 
19 days after the coup. Even then resistance didn't end as the 
miners used dynamite to sabotage the military and stolen 
shortwave radiotelephone transmitters for irregular clandestine 
broadcasts in the five and seven MHz bands. THE MINES TODAY 
 
Military might never truly silenced the miners, but economic 
realities are gradually taking their toll. By the mid-80s, 
outmoded technology and a decline in markets had made many of 
Bolivia's smaller mines unprofitable. To save money, the 
government shut down 17 mines and laid off 75 percent of the miners. 
Several miners' stations closed and others barely got by. In 
1984, Radio Nacional Huanuni had just 880 dollars a month from union 
dues to pay 18 workers and operating costs. Radio Animas had only 
150 dollars a month. On these budgets, no money was left to maintain 
equipment and buy replacement parts, so more stations left the 
air. Then in 1985, the bottom dropped out of Bolivia's economy 
and inflation skyrocketed to an unbelievable 30,000 percent. By 1988 
only nine miners' stations were regularly on the air, with a few 
more making occasional broadcasts. 
 
PARTIAL BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
Kuncar, Gridvia & Fernando Lozada. Las Voces del Coraje.  
CHASQUI.  April, 1984; 52-57. 
Additional Note:
Today August 6 (2000) in the local newspaper Los Tiempos, about the slow death of Radio Huanuni, 5964.8: times are changing; It was once one of the most important mining stations in 
Bolivia.
It has a debt of 8 kilobolivianos (US$ 1.288) on its 
electricity bill. Only 580 workers are contributing half the cost 
(14 bolivianos or US$ 2.25) for its operation and the salary for nine 
employees. Divisions between the same mining workers are a 
problem. The quixotic director, Rafael Lineo, does what he can. It goes on 
the air at certain times. The union plans to convert it to FM on 
the air all day, and put it on AM (SW) at 1000-1100 and 1600-1700 
UT. The question is: why do they resist charging for the  advertising they
broadcast? (via Rogildo Fontenelle Arag�o, Cochabamba, Bolivia,
radioescutas, translated by Glenn Hauser in DX LISTENING DIGEST 0-101, August 10, 2000).
 
Association of North American Radio Clubs 
DXer of the Year for 1995.