In the wake of the November 10 coup in Bolivia that removed President Evo Morales and installed a right-wing government led by Jeanine Áñez, the first thing many mainstream commentators debated was whether what had just happened was actually a coup. According to the putsch-supporting New York Times editorial board, Morales’s impressive economic record had simply been the subterfuge that “propped” him up — the repeatedly reelected president was a “strongman” who had it coming. In the eyes of Morales’s opponents, the racist and anti-indigenous elite that took power was a popular, even democratic, movement. The coup was no longer a coup.

Coups can take a variety of forms, but they are not especially difficult to identify. They often involve crises (sometimes manufactured) that are weaponized against democratically elected leaders or governments. Outside help is often needed, since by definition, the coup plotters do not enjoy widespread support or a popular mandate. Immediately afterwards, an imposed or self-proclaimed leader takes control and charts a very different course for the country, suppressing dissent while seeking legitimacy from the international community. The United States and other powerful countries typically oblige, sweeping in to provide the coup government legitimacy.

Bolivia is a textbook example. No one disputes that Morales’s presidential term extended until January, and few dispute that Morales won a plurality of the votes in the October 20 elections that sparked the crisis (although they might argue by how much). While many mainstream outlets reported that the military “suggested” Morales resign, when people with guns “suggest” you do something, it’s coercion. (More blatantly, many members of Morales’s MAS party were forced to step down when they or their families were subjected to violence or threatened.)