On the morning of 20 January 2023, President Luis Arce declared that Bolivia’s “era of industrialisation” for its vast lithium reserves had begun. Speaking to an audience at the Casa Grande del Pueblo – the seat of government, in La Paz – Arce made the bold claim that by the first quarter of 2025, Bolivia would be exporting lithium batteries made from local raw materials.
Arce made the announcement at the signing of the first agreement between the state-owned Bolivian Lithium Deposits (YLB) and a foreign company: Hong Kong CBC, a Chinese consortium made up of battery giant CATL and its subsidiary Brunp, plus the mining firm CMOC. After several failed attempts to enter the international lithium business, Arce said Bolivia would finally be able to sell its natural resources with added value. “There is no time to lose,” he repeated several times.
The accompanying Ministry of Energy and Hydrocarbons press release stated that the agreement committed to the implementation of two industrial complexes, in the Uyuni and Coipasa salt flats. They would use direct lithium extraction (DLE) technology, which is considered to be a less environmentally damaging and water-intensive form of extraction than traditional evaporation from brine pools. The then-energy minister, Franklin Molina, described the method as “a viable, real and rapidly implementable solution”. Each venture, the ministry claimed, would produce “up to 25,000 tonnes per year of lithium carbonate”.
Lithium is mostly extracted from a mineral-rich brine, which is found approximately 10 metres below briny lakes in high-altitude salt flats.
Evaporation extraction: Brine is pumped to an evaporation pool at the surface, where it eventually becomes a mud containing manganese, potassium, borax and lithium salts. The mud is then moved to another open-air evaporation pool. After 12-18 months, lithium carbonate can be extracted, which is the main raw material for lithium-ion batteries. This process is extremely water-intensive.
Direct lithium extraction (DLE): This method is similar to evaporation extraction, but the barren brine is re-injected into the salt flats once its lithium has been extracted. This means less water is removed during extraction. Historically, DLE has been the slower and costlier extraction method, but some commentators expect technological improvements to ameliorate these elements.
But five months later, YLB clarified that what had been presented in January was simply a “study agreement”, rather than a contract to build plants. The congresswoman María José Salazar, alongside other civil and political actors, demanded the Arce government refrain from submitting the signed document to congress for consideration; Bolivia’s constitution empowers its national legislature to debate, and thus approve or reject, contracts related to natural resources.
Bolivia sits on an estimated 23 million tonnes of lithium, an essential element for global clean energy ambitions. Since January 2023, lithium agreements and contracts have been signed with companies from six countries, although the exact number and contents of each are still unknown.
Four such legal instruments for works in the Uyuni salt flats are understood to have been signed with Chinese entities. One of these, with Hong Kong CBC, has become a contract.
The other companies with which commitments have been made are: Russia’s Uranium One Group, which has one contract and one agreement; Australia and Germany’s Eau Lithium Pty Ltd; France’s Geolith Actaris; and Tecpetrol from Argentina. The latter three were all signed last December.
The objectives of these agreements are studies and tests, and exploration and “exploitation of evaporite resources”. An Indigenous member of Bolivia’s parliament, Toribia Lero, tells Dialogue Earth that the latter is simply a euphemism for lithium extraction.
Lithium has long been eyed as a potentially significant boost to Bolivia’s stuttering economy. But as momentum for mining builds, figures across politics and civil society are expressing concerns over the lack of publicly available information on these deals, their status and next steps. Meanwhile, longstanding concerns over the potential socio-environmental implications for communities close to extraction sites continue to be voiced.
Deals and doubts, years in the making
Upon taking office in 2021, President Arce abandoned the evaporation-based lithium extraction pursued by his predecessor, Evo Morales. He said he would opt instead to favour direct lithium extraction. The first international call for bids was issued in 2021, the second in May 2024.
“These are calls for proposals with several phases,” explains Toribia Lero, the second vice-president of Bolivia’s lower house, the Chamber of Deputies. “After selecting the companies that advance to the first phase, they are required to sign a confidentiality agreement before moving on to the second phase. At that stage, they must present their projects. They are also allowed to inspect the site.” She adds: “From the third phase onwards, absolutely nothing is known.”
Lero has asked the executive branch for 24 reports on the content of the documents signed between YLB and foreign companies. This corresponds to the number of potential agreements with companies on a list submitted by YLB, following the second call for tenders. The most recent request was sent in September 2024 and responded to in April with a one-page report. Seen by Dialogue Earth, it reads: “YLB clarifies that the aforementioned agreement [with CBC of China] contains a confidentiality clause related to the direct or indirect protection of all existing data and technical information provided by both parties, which makes it impossible to disclose it.”
When questions began to arise about this lack of transparency, the then-president of YLB, Carlos Ramos, said confidentiality was necessary to protect DLE technologies. A year later, his successor, Karla Calderón, assured a local media outlet that the agreements were in the initial phases of projects; they would be sent to the national assembly only if they became contracts.
To date, only two agreements have reached the contract stage. They have been stalled in the legislature since the end of 2024. Only one – with Russia’s Uranium One Group – was partially approved on 12 August. This happened five days before the Bolivian presidential elections, causing heated debate and disagreement in the assembly. The other contract, with the Chinese consortium Hong Kong CBC, has not yet been addressed and is not expected to be approved by the current legislators. Their terms end on 7 November, giving way to a new assembly that begins the following day.
During the first round of general elections on 17 August, the candidate for the ruling MAS party slipped to just 3% of the vote. Two candidates, the centrist Rodrigo Paz and the right-wing former president, Jorge Quiroga, face a runoff vote on 19 October.
Bolivian lithium enigmas
A former YLB official, who has requested anonymity for fear of reprisals, tells Dialogue Earth about the first tender process for foreign companies in 2021. They say YLB made certain information public, such as comparison tables of the competing firms’ energy and water proposals for prospective lithium sites. However, “for the second tender, everything was done behind closed doors.”
The state-owned company’s argument for not providing that information is based on Law 928, which grants it “technical, administrative, legal and financial autonomy”. However, this law does not exempt it from responding to the Ministry of Hydrocarbons, nor the state oversight body, the Comptroller General’s Office.
“The right of access to information is part of the constitutional framework,” says José Pablo Solón, a researcher at the Solón Foundation. Referencing the landmark Latin American treaty that enshrines access to information regarding environmental matters (ratified by Bolivia in 2019) he adds: “And international treaties such as the Escazú Agreement have constitutional status in Bolivia.”
Not even the two contracts that reached the legislature were known in their entirety at first. Various sources consulted for this article agreed that several versions were circulating. The most complete Uranium One contract has 145 pages, while CBC’s has 250 pages.
These details – and other concerns – sparked a series of protests, especially from Indigenous communities in Nor Lípez, Potosí. This territory would potentially be affected by both the Uranium One and CBC operations, according to the documents.
In May, representatives for these communities filed a class-action lawsuit with a local court. This constitutional mechanism protects collective rights, such as access to the environment, and to health and essential services.
Initially, judge Edson Villarroel Herrera ordered the suspension of the legislative process for these contracts, as well as any execution of the works, “until socio-environmental studies are carried out and the right to free, prior and informed consultation is guaranteed”. However, just days later, this precautionary measure was lifted following complaints from the government.
“The document presented by the community members shows evidence that not only was there no prior and informed consultation, but that wetlands have already dried up,” says Fátima Monasterio, the plaintiffs’ lawyer, referring to the saline lagoons that make up a wetland ecosystem in Nor Lípez.
As Dialogue Earth has previously reported from the area, there are fears among the communities here of stress on already strained water sources. Lithium extraction is a notoriously thirsty processes, even if DLE proposes to reduce this demand.
The contract with Uranium One
Meanwhile, another battle has taken place in the legislative assembly since late 2024, when the contracts began to arrive for lawmakers’ consideration.
After several failed attempts at debate – which included protests, tense verbal exchanges and even physical altercations – the Uranium One Group contract was finally approved in part in August. However, days later, a judge ruled the issue should not be discussed further until an environmental impact assessment and a consultation with the affected Indigenous communities had both been carried out.
The contract states a commitment to “develop, build, implement and commission a plant” in Uyuni that is expected to produce 14,000 tonnes of lithium carbonate per year, using DLE technology. The estimated investment is USD 975 million.
Fernando Patzy, a Bolivian economist and expert in natural resource governance and the lithium industry, points out that the contract omits details on how YLB will pay for Uranium One’s investment: “Although it mentions that this [payment] will be in the form of product [lithium carbonate], it does not specify quantity, quality or deadlines, which makes it impossible to assess the viability of the deal.”
José Pablo Solón, author of the book Mirage of Abundance: The Myths of Lithium Industrialisation in the Uyuni Salt Flat (title translated; available in Spanish only), argues the contract contains generalisations and lacks key specifications.
The other question analysts are raising concerns lithium projects’ annual freshwater consumption. According to the document, this operation will affect 219 square kilometres of Uyuni’s salt crust, and a 419 square kilometre basin within the Nor Lípez Indigenous territory; the project’s annual freshwater consumption will be approximately 1,184,471 cubic metres. This is equivalent to the annual consumption of about 32,500 people in La Paz, based on an average consumption of 100 litres of drinking water per day.
“There is information about the volumes of brine and water required for the operation, which seem very large, especially the fresh water. This is strange because, theoretically, direct lithium extraction is being chosen to preserve water,” Patzy comments.
As Patzy highlights, the documentation clarifies that the project’s investments and operating expenses would be covered by sales of the lithium produced. According to YLB, annual income from this business will be USD 315 million. “This would mean that the international price per tonne of lithium carbonate should be around 30,000 US dollars,” says Solón. At the end of 2022, international lithium prices soared to USD 80,000 per tonne. They have since tumbled and currently hover at around USD 10,000. “Either someone has a secret formula for tripling the market value, or the calculation is overly optimistic,” Solón explains.
The CBC contract
The second contract with the Chinese consortium of CBC and CATL is the result of its submission during YLB’s calls for tenders in 2021 and 2024.
Clause four of the contract states that, once approved, CBC will “provide services” to YLB. These include the final engineering design, construction, operation and maintenance of two plants in the Uyuni salt flats.
Once operational, the plants will reportedly produce 10,000 and 25,000 tonnes of lithium carbonate per year. The investment amounts to USD 1.03 billion.
“CBC will be responsible for the design, construction, operation and maintenance of the plants, while YLB will pay the Chinese consortium with part of the lithium carbonate generated,” says Solón.
In their analysis of the documents, experts agree there are “inaccuracies” and “strange clauses”. In addition, there is information that does not match. For example, the contents in an annex relating to the DLE plant refers to sections “8.1: Raw materials” and “8.2: Water source”. However, the latter section is not in the document.
As with Uranium One Group, the prices estimated by the Bolivian state-owned company do not match current circumstances. The reports accompanying the contract with CBC for the 36 years of operation of the plants consider an average price of USD 24,600 per tonne in a pessimistic scenario, and USD 26,100 in an optimistic scenario.
Regarding free, prior and informed consent, Bolivia’s deputy minister for alternative energy, Álvaro Arnez, says it will take place once the contracts are approved. The documentation presented to members of the legislative assembly indicate the affected water sources are located within Nor Lípez lands, in the Cieneguillas and San Gerónimo basins.
From the territory
During the evening of 19 January 2023, text messages were sent from the office of the president to the top Indigenous leaders of Nor Lípez. It invited them to the official launch of the “industrialisation of Bolivian lithium”, taking place the following day at the Casa Grande del Pueblo in La Paz – over 680 kilometres away.
“We didn’t have time to mobilise. That’s how we found out what was happening,” Néstor Ticona, a former top leader of Nor Lípez, told Dialogue Earth in 2023. “If it hadn’t been for that, we wouldn’t even have known. The invitation was for eight in the morning. How were we supposed to get there?”
Since then, the communities in this territory say they have been resisting a process that they have not been consulted on at all. They fear losing the quinoa crops and camelid livestock products on which they depend.
Many of them, hoping to find work on the lithium projects, are waiting for a simple explanation in their own language about what will happen to their water, and to the waste the projects will leave behind. Researcher Gonzalo Mondaca, from the Bolivian Documentation and Information Centre (Cedib), tells Dialogue Earth the issue goes beyond environmental and economic concerns, to cultural implications.
This is the case for Coipasa, which is on the list of salt flats targeted for exploitation. The Quillacas nation lives there. “At a town hall meeting, they were very emphatic in rejecting the contracts,” says Mondaca, who has travelled through these territories on several occasions.
Coipasa is home to sacred sites, confirms Toribia Lero, which makes any impacts very serious: “For us, water is the blood that flows through the body of Pachamama [Mother Earth]. And the salt flats are the spilled milk of a mother who lost her child.”
For us, water is the blood that flows through the body of Pachamama [Mother Earth]. And the salt flats are the spilled milk of a mother who lost her childToribia Lero, second vice-president, Bolivian Chamber of Deputies
The perception of young professionals in the area is different. For example, Wilson Caral, an environmental engineer who worked at YLB and has specialised in lithium in Argentina, says good decisions must be made at the national level, and in collaboration with foreign companies. He acknowledges there are impacts from this type of mining, regardless of the method used, but believes it is possible to minimise them. Just as he left Bolivia for another country, he says many make similar moves due to a lack of opportunities.
“We can make the best use of resources and have less impact on the salt flats and the environment,” he insists.
Everything could change following Bolivia’s 19 October runoff vote. Both presidential candidates have stated a commitment during their campaigns not to approve the contracts currently stalled in the legislative assembly.
Jorge Quiroga, considered to be on the right, proposes turning the “lithium triangle” formed by Bolivia, Argentina and Chile into a “powerhouse”. In an August interview he said: “We must open up to investment, export lithium and create free trade zones to produce batteries in the Southern Cone.” And before the first round of elections, the centre-right Rodrigo Paz proposed an international investment plan, declaring lithium “one of the instruments for the development of Potosí and the country”.
This article is a Lithium in Conflict collaboration. The project explores how the lithium industry is operating in Latin America. It is led by the Latin American Center for Investigative Journalism (CLIP) in partnership with Consenso (Paraguay), La Región (Bolivia), Quinto Elemento Lab (México), Repórter Brasil (Brasil), Ruido (Argentina), Climate Tracker Latam, Dialogue Earth, Mongabay Latam and Columbia Journalism Investigations (CJI). With the support of the legal team at El Veinte.
