Michael Batson

It has been said that if the bones of all the slave labourers who died toiling in Potosi’s silver mines to make Spain rich were laid end-to-end, they’d stretch all the way from Bolivia to Madrid.

Before Britain and its Commonwealth, there was another empire on which it could truly be said “the sun never sets”. The Kingdom of Castile dominated Spain then ruled by King Charles V as part of the Holy Roman Empire. In reality however, it was neither holy nor Roman, or even much of an empire.

The sun never set on the British Commonwealth some joked because, “you can not trust the English after dark.”
 
“Spanish” rule in the Americas was no laughing matter and history records it devastated the continental indigenous population. Following the arrival of Columbus in 1492, 80 percent of the America’s population died following contact with Europeans. As with others, the Andean people suffered terribly.

There is some justice then that given the gratuitous violence associated with their greed, the Spanish conquistadors never found El Dorado, the legendary city of gold. But they did get their hands on Potosí in modern day Bolivia and its Cerro Rico, a ‘Rich Hill’ full of silver. The quote, “I am rich Potosí, the treasure of the world… and the envy of kings” from the city’s first coat of arms, sums it up.

The city was founded in 1545 as soon as the ore was discovered as part of the Viceroyalty of Peru, and pretty soon the silver extracted there was bankrolling the Spanish empire. It has been calculated that between 1556 and 1773 that 41,000 tonnes of pure silver were mined in Potosi, of which one-fifth went directly to the Spanish monarchy.

Potosi soon became one of the wealthiest and largest cites in the Americas during the New World Spanish Empire, and at one time its population exceeded 200,000 (today it’s less than half that). The mines of the Cerro Rico were rumoured to have been the richest mines in all of world history and may have produced 60,000 tons of silver. The name Potosi was once adopted by San Luis de Potosi in Mexico to reflect their hopes for equal riches. It is reputed that at one time mules were shoed with silver due to the difficulty of getting supplies of iron to the city. Some of this wealth was used to build the magnificent baroque churches and monasteries – at its colonial height there were 86 churches, though many were later looted during periods of war and civil unrest.

Potosí’s story is wholly tied to its silver. During the boom years, when the metal must have seemed inexhaustible, it became the largest and wealthiest city of the Americas. Even today, something very lucrative is said to vale un Potosí, “to be worth a Potosí” or a fortune.

But the price was high in misery and suffering. Millions of indigenous labourers and African slaves perished in mines during three centuries of Spanish colonial rule. Press-ganged into service and forced to work below ground for weeks at a time, many never saw their families again. Estimates of those who perished vary from between two million to as high as eight million.

The ore has been extracted by miners in some of the most abysmal conditions imaginable – a visit to see today’s miners at work provokes disbelief at just how appalling the job is.

By 1800, and nearing Bolivia’s independence, the silver mines were depleted and tin became the major ore mined as it is today, which led to a slow economic decline. Then decline and poverty were the hard facts, which were to dog this landlocked country to this day.

The wealthy history of Potosí is still reflected in the narrow streets, colonial mansions and ornate architecture and the many churches, which makes the city a UNESCO World Heritage List.

Away from the Silver Mountain the rest of Potosi is a wonder.

Potosi is three hours by bus over bone-shaking roads from Bolivia’s “other” capital of Sucre, the country’s actual seat of justice. Going the other way to Sucre, collective cabs that travel slightly quicker than the buses can also be arranged. Small waterways are merely forded, there being no bridges. Windows need be closed when vehicles pass going in the opposite direction, or even when following another vehicle, such is the volume of dust thrown up from the unsealed roads. The sun is warm but the air cold at 4000 metres.

Whatever the enormous wealth generated by Potosi, Bolivia never saw much of it. Since independence in 1809, the country has staggered through periods of political instability, brutal dictatorships and massive economic woes. For some, the socio-economic conditions endured since colonial rule have not improved.

Political stability is then a recent phenomenon in Bolivia. The incumbent, Evo Morales, is on his second term and provided the country avoids a recurrence of that old bug-bear of Latin American politics, the military coup, he looks set to continue, much to the chagrin of the country’s moneyed elite.

Morales’ Movimiento al Socialismo or MAS, is pitted against the latest right-of-centre coalition PODEMOS, successor to Nationalist Democratic Action. Among the poor, rural and indigenous population MAS enjoys nearly unanimous support, which gives it a solid base in Potosi.

Being in Bolivia during an election is a curious experience. Alcohol is banned unless you’re a foreigner. In a Potosi restaurant I was served beer – no mistaking me for a local then – which attracted looks of envy from the other diners. Transport also ceases, so if you’re planning on travelling by public transport or any other means for that matter, forget it.

The city itself is one of the highest in the world at just over 4000 metres above sea level, higher even than La Paz. The Cerro de Potosi towers 800 metres over the city centre. Catching your breath can be a mission, and every now and then I found myself literally pausing for air.

African slaves were also forced to work in the Casa de la Moneda (the Mint) as acémilas humanas (human mules). Since mules would die after a couple of months, the colonists replaced the mules with African slaves. The mint itself is now a museum and open to the pubic and well worth a visit.

Guided tours are available but mine was in Spanish so I understood little and I tagged along with a group of high school students. One or two of them spoke quite good English, and took time to translate for me. We were accompanied by a security guard who refused to let me linger after the group had moved on, so

I was forced to keep pace.

Potosí's cathedral was built during the second half of the 16th century and is an impressive structure. Finished in the early 1600s, it underwent reconstruction works from 1808 to 1838, an imposing reminder to the Andeans that a Spanish god ruled, though Christianity has largely grafted onto indigenous rites rather than superseded them.

The most lasting image from Potosi is the Cerro Rico itself. Tours to the mines take three to four hours and are not for the claustrophobic or those of above average height, so I had problems on both counts.

The tour begins with the customary purchasing of gifts for the miners from the miners market. On offer are the ubiquitous coca leaves, hand-rolled cigarettes, soft drinks, biscuits, 190-proof alcohol (like Vodka), and dynamite. I thought of that Blues’ masterpiece by Buddy Guy and Junior Wells, “Smoking TNT and Drinking Dynamite” only here it’s for real.

The stalls sell you a standard “tourist” package of dynamite, ammonium nitrate, and a fuse, all for about US$2. No licence required and no questions asked. Miners are responsible for supplying all their own equipment, undertaking their own training, and running all risks.

After being issued some standard safety equipment you enter the mine itself, which looked like it had been built for Frodo. Mechanisation is low. Miners push wheelbarrows carrying up to 10 tonnes per day, or about a 120 barrow loads. Hard work even for a big bloke like me especially as I’d have to spend most of the time doubled up, which would kill my back.

Mining is a dying industry, almost literally. A few years ago there where 20,000 people working in the mines but today due to rising costs there are now fewer than 5000 people working in the mines.

Miners not working or taking breaks huddle in mud bricks huts perched on the barren hillside, basic constructs with little in the way of amenities. Some miners offered me a cup of mate tea to ward of the cold and stave off hunger – a staple technique in these parts and indeed throughout the region.

Poverty would drive someone into mining, and poverty keeps them there. You wouldn’t be getting rich mining in Potosi.