Cry for Me, Argentina

«Llora por mi, Argentina», es el título del duro editorial del New York Times.

El artículo se titula «Llora por mí, Argentina» y está firmado por uno de los especialistas en política del periódico, Roger Cohen.

«Una ocurrencia que recorre los pasillos de la Sudámerica  post-boom de los commodities dice que Brasil está en proceso de  convertirse en Argentina,  Argentina está en proceso de convertirse en Venezuela, y Venezuela está  en proceso de convertirse en Zimbabwe. Eso es un poco duro para Brasil y  Venezuela. Argentina  es un caso perverso en sí mismo. Se trata de una nación todavía narcotizada por ese quijotesco brebaje político llamado peronismo; involucrada en una guerra total contra los datos económicos fiables», afirma el artículo y enumera una serie de problemas que afronta el país.

En otro tramo del editorial hace un repaso de los gobiernos tras el retorno a la democracia.  «La mayor parte de ese tiempo ha sido dirigido por los peronistas, más recientemente por Néstor Kirchner y su viuda, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner (reminiscente de la viuda de Perón, Isabel) , que han vuelto a descubrir la redistribución después de un aluvión peronista neoliberal en la década de 1990. El latigazo económico está vivo y en buena forma, al igual que el gasto imprudente en los buenos tiempos y las medidas fuera de la ley en los malos. También en saludable forma las evocaciones cursis de Perón y Evita e Isabel: En la tierra como en los cielos«, relata el periodista, y afirmó que «Hace un siglo, Argentina era más rica que Suecia, Francia, Austria e Italia y mucho más rica que Japón».

El 1 de febrero una porción importante de la tapa del New York Times fue dedicada a la crisis económica de la Argentina. Con una foto de Cristina y otra que reflejaba el malestar de ahorristas frente a un banco de la zona de Plaza de Mayo, el artículo resaltó que «mientras el peso se tambalea se observaba la ausencia de la presidenta».

A menos de un mes de aquella tapa, un editorial muy duro apunta otra vez contra la actualidad Argentina. «La esperanza es difícil de desterrar del corazón del hombre, pero tiene que ser dicho que Argentina hace todo lo posible para hacerlo», cierra el artículo.


USHUAIA, Argentina — A bon mot doing the rounds in post-commodities-boom South America is that Brazil is in the process of becoming Argentina, and Argentina is in the process of becoming Venezuela, and Venezuela is in the process of becoming Zimbabwe. That is a little harsh on Brazil and Venezuela.

Argentina, however, is a perverse case of its own. It is a nation still drugged by that quixotic political concoction called Peronism; engaged in all-out war on reliable economic data; tinkering with its multilevel exchange rate; shut out from global capital markets; trampling on property rights when it wishes; obsessed with a lost little war in the Falklands (Malvinas) more than three decades ago; and persuaded that the cause of all this failure lies with speculative powers seeking to force a proud nation — in the words of its leader — “to eat soup again, but this time with a fork.”

A century ago, Argentina was richer than Sweden, France, Austria and Italy. It was far richer than Japan. It held poor Brazil in contempt. Vast and empty, with the world’s richest top soil in the Pampas, it seemed to the European immigrants who flooded here to have all the potential of the United States (per capita income is now a third or less of the United States level). They did not know that a colonel called Juan Domingo Perón and his wife Eva (“Evita”) would shape an ethos of singular delusional power.

“Argentina is a unique case of a country that has completed the transition to underdevelopment,” said Javier Corrales, a political scientist at Amherst College.

In psychological terms — and Buenos Aires is packed with folks on couches pouring out their anguish to psychotherapists — Argentina is the child among nations that never grew up. Responsibility was not its thing. Why should it be? There was so much to be plundered, such riches in grain and livestock, that solid institutions and the rule of law — let alone a functioning tax system — seemed a waste of time.

Immigrants camped here with foreign passports rather than go through the nation-forming absorption that characterize Brazil or the United States. Argentina was far away at the bottom of the world, a beckoning fertile land mass distant enough from power centers to live its own peripheral fantasies or drown its sorrow in what is probably the world’s saddest (and most haunting) dance. Then, to give expression to its uniqueness, Argentina invented its own political philosophy: a strange mishmash of nationalism, romanticism, fascism, socialism, backwardness, progressiveness, militarism, eroticism, fantasy, musical, mournfulness, irresponsibility and repression. The name it gave all this was Peronism. It has proved impossible to shake.

Perón, who discovered the political uplift a military officer could derive from forging links with the have-nots of Latin America and distributing cash (a lesson absorbed by Hugo Chávez), was deposed in the first of four postwar coups. The Argentina I covered in the 1980s was just emerging from the trauma of military rule. If I have a single emblematic image of the continent then it is of the uncontrollable sobbing of Argentine women clutching the photographs of beloved children who had been taken from them for “brief questioning” only to vanish. The region’s military juntas turned “disappear” into a transitive verb. It is what they did to deemed enemies — 30,000 of them in Argentina.

Since 1983, Argentina has ceased its military-civilian whiplash, tried some of the perpetrators of human rights crimes and been governed democratically. But for most of that time it has been run by Peronists, most recently Néstor Kirchner and his widow, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner (shades of Perón’s widow Isabel), who have rediscovered redistribution after a Peronist flurry in the 1990s with neoliberalism. Economic whiplash is alive and well. So are reckless spending in good times and lawless measures in bad. So, too, are mawkish evocations of Perón and Evita and Isabel: On earth as it is in the heavens.

Cry for me, my name is Argentina and I am too rich for my own good.

Twenty-five years ago I left a country of hyperinflation (5,000 percent in 1989), capital flight, currency instability, heavy-handed state interventionism, dwindling reserves, uncompetitive industry, heavy reliance on commodity exports, reawakening Peronist fantasies and bottom-of-the-world complexes. Today inflation is high rather than hyper. Otherwise, not a whole lot has changed.

Coming ashore at Ushuaia on Argentina’s southern tip, the first thing I saw was a sign saying that the “Malvinas” islands were under illegal occupation by the United Kingdom since 1833. The second was a signpost saying Ireland was 13,199 kilometers away (no mention of Britain). The third was a packet of cookies “made in Ushuaia, the end of the world.” The fourth was a pocket calculator used by a shopkeeper to figure out dollar-peso rates.

Hope is hard to banish from the human heart, but it has to be said that Argentina does its best to do so.