In Bolivia, a country where political drama is never in short supply, the run-up to the August 17, 2025, presidential election is shaping up to be one for the history books. Former president Evo Morales, long a towering figure in Bolivian politics, has found himself barred from appearing on the ballot. But instead of retreating quietly, Morales has thrown his weight behind a most unusual candidate: “Nulo”—the null-and-void vote.
According to Associated Press, Morales’ campaign for Nulo is, in many ways, a campaign for protest itself. Nulo isn’t a person, or even a political platform. It’s a symbol—one that’s resonating with voters disillusioned by the choices on offer and by the country’s deepening economic woes. In Bolivia, where voting is compulsory, invalid or spoiled ballots have long been a way for citizens to express dissatisfaction. This year, Morales is urging his followers to take that protest further, transforming the act of spoiling a ballot into a political statement with real bite.
“Brothers, we are on the right track. Absenteeism, blank ballots, undecided voters, all of it,” Morales declared on Radio Kawsachun Coca, his own media outlet, while holed up in the Chapare jungle among loyal coca-farming unions. If he leaves this stronghold, he risks arrest on charges of statutory rape—allegations he vehemently denies. “Nulo is where we belong,” he told his supporters, encouraging them to scratch, scribble, and sketch on their ballots. “We’ve already won here.”
Morales’ embrace of Nulo is more than just a protest against his exclusion from the ballot. It’s also a strategic move. Under Bolivian law, spoiled and blank ballots are removed from the final count, and cannot trigger a new election. But a surge in Nulo votes could embarrass the right-wing front-runners, Jorge “Tuto” Quiroga and Samuel Doria Medina, and undermine the credibility of the election itself. It’s a way for Morales to stay relevant, even as the courts and political establishment have closed ranks against him.
Political analyst Carlos Saavedra summed up Morales’ gambit succinctly: “Evo wants to be in the election and say, ‘This is my vote ... I’m the winner without even having participated.’”
It’s not the first time Morales has found himself at the center of controversy. Over his three consecutive presidential terms, he repeatedly changed the rules to stay in power. In 2014, Morales altered the Constitution’s two-term limit and stacked the courts with loyalists. In 2019, he sought a fourth term, defying a referendum that blocked his bid. That move sparked violent protests, military pressure, and ultimately, Morales’ exile. Now, with his former ally Luis Arce in the presidential palace, Morales is on the outside looking in, his Movement Toward Socialism (MAS) party splintered by infighting.
Senate President Andrónico Rodríguez, another coca-farming union activist, is running with a different MAS faction. But as AP reports, support for Rodríguez has waned amid a worsening currency crisis and growing public anger at the MAS party’s long dominance. The economic situation is dire: prices are rising, fuel is scarce, and families have lost access to their dollar savings. For many, the current crisis is reminiscent of the conditions that first propelled Morales to power in 2005.
The Nulo campaign has become a rallying point for those frustrated with both sides of the political spectrum. “Evo Morales taught Andrónico everything he knows, and Andrónico stabbed him in the back. How can we trust a candidate like that?” asked Wendy Chipana, a 28-year-old volunteer at a Nulo campaign office in El Alto. “We only have one candidate, Evo Morales. That’s why we’re deciding not to cast a single valid vote.”
The creativity of Nulo supporters knows no bounds. Campaigners distribute decals of Morales’ face for voters to stick on their ballots. Retired professor Martha Cruz, 67, says she’ll mark hers with a large X. Diego Aragon, a coca farmer in Chapare, plans to paste a coca leaf on his ballot—a nod to Morales’ legalization of the plant. Clothing vendor Daniela Cusi, 44, plans to draw Morales’ face all over her ballot. “I’m going to bring paint and draw his pretty little face all over,” she said.
Even some of Morales’ former detractors are turning to Nulo. Diana Mamani, 30, who sells lambs at a market in El Alto, explained her reasoning: “I’m done with Evo, but I have no information about these other candidates. The right-wing spends all this money on propaganda but they haven’t bothered to come out here.”
It’s not just about personalities. The two right-wing contenders, Quiroga and Doria Medina, are hardly fresh faces; both have run for president and lost three times each. Their backgrounds—Western-educated and light-skinned—represent the old elite that Morales once swept aside, promising to end decades of pro-Washington, free-market policies that failed to lift many Bolivians out of poverty.
Morales’ legacy is complicated. Despite criticism over his autocratic style, sexual abuse allegations, and heavy government spending, he remains Bolivia’s first Indigenous president—a symbol of progress for many. Cristina Sonco, 43, who works at the cable car connecting La Paz and El Alto, put it emotionally: “I look in the mirror and realize I am just like him. He’s like a father to me. Not like these other candidates.” For Sonco and many others, Morales’ presidency meant reduced inequality and increased rights in a country long dominated by a white and mestizo elite.
But the country is at a crossroads. In June, Morales’ supporters responded to his disqualification with highway blockades and clashes with police, resulting in eight deaths. Morales, who once warned the country would “convulse” if the election went ahead, has since urged his followers to channel their anger into the ballot box instead. The Nulo campaign, with its mix of protest and nostalgia, has drawn in a broad swath of voters—some loyal, some simply fed up with the alternatives.
As Aymara author Quya Reyna observed, “I think that’s why Morales is pushing for Nulo, not a left-wing vote. It would suit him for the right-wing to come to power.” The logic? Morales is at his best as an outsider, confronting neoliberal administrations and regaining social legitimacy, even if he’s not in government or Congress. After years of bitter infighting with President Arce, Morales may see more opportunity in opposition than in power.
With just days to go before Bolivians head to the polls, the Nulo campaign has injected an unusual dose of creativity and uncertainty into the country’s political landscape. Whether it will embarrass the front-runners or simply highlight the depth of public frustration remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: Evo Morales, barred from the ballot, has once again found a way to make himself the story.
