WITNESS: The battle of Tiquipaya: Bolivia divided

Raymond Colitt is a senior correspondent who heads the Reuters bureau in Brasilia and has about 15 years of reporting experience in Latin America. In the following story he writes about the violent clashes between supporters of President Evo Morales and those favoring more autonomy in opposition-led provinces.

By Raymond Colitt

TIQUIPAYA, Bolivia (Reuters) - "For the unity of Bolivia" read the banner at a road block in the opposition stronghold of Santa Cruz, but deeper division was hard to imagine.

Stranded trucks lined the roadside as our team drove across tropical plains to check reports an army battalion was advancing on Santa Cruz's provincial capital about 30 miles away. Peasant women selling mandarins eyed us suspiciously.

Bolivia was last month rocked by looting, sabotage of gas pipelines, and clashes between government supporters and rebels wanting autonomy for four eastern provinces. At least 18 people were killed. Martial law was decreed in the province of Pando in the latest and most serious round of fighting.

At the roadblock piled with rocks and logs, a small man in a ragged sweater and sandals made from old tires stepped forward, sizing us up with distrust.

He inspected our press cards. I was wary that being American might be a problem among these supporters of Evo Morales, the leftist president of South America's poorest country who had kicked out the U.S. ambassador a week earlier.

We were told to wait for their leader. A lean Che Guevara-like figure in his early 20s with a thin beard and a khaki military cap emerged from the huddle manning the barricade.

"You'll have to excuse us but we're expecting an imminent attack by the unionists," he said softly. The unionists are members of the Santa Cruz Youth Union -- a feared brigade of youngsters who are part of a regional autonomy movement.

A recent poll showed 86 percent of the region's people want greater autonomy from the central government in Andean La Paz, but most say they reject violence.

"I'll talk to you later, but now I urge you to take cover," the young pro-Morales leader said.

BURNING

"They're coming, they're already at the soccer field," shouted shopkeeper Patricia Lopez as she hurriedly stacked chairs and tables and shut the iron gate to her convenience store.

In the panicked seconds before they arrived, burning tires were thrown on the barricade and grubby, barefoot children with sunburnt faces were yanked to safety.

Journalists are frequently targeted during political unrest in Bolivia, so I hesitated about putting on a highly visible flak jacket.

I grabbed a helmet from the car and crouched behind a bush as dozens of unionists emerged through the choking smoke of burning tires, some wearing common dust masks you'd buy at a hardware store or T-shirts tied around their heads.