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Al-Ahram Weekly 4 - 10 November 1999 Issue No. 454 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 4 - 10 November 1999 Issue No. 454
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Profile Travel Living Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters Anyone for democracy?
By Hisham El-NaggarArgentina has always been something of a special case. Though its Latin American neighbours don't like to be reminded of the fact, it is quite a different country from most of them (with the possible exception of next-door Uruguay), not only in terms of social structure and cultural orientation, but also, for better and for worse, in its self-image.
Isolated on a continent to which both its admirers and detractors like to suggest it does not really belong, Argentina has carved out a role for itself in the region as a kind of pioneer. Its flirtations with both popular democracy and caudillismo (strong-man rule) led to the innovation of Peronism. This political movement, founded in the 1940s by Juan Domingo Peron, was by any measures a daring departure from the Latin American norm. Decidedly populist in orientation, it openly wooed the long-despised lower classes (the descamisados), offering them real benefits and a new-found self-esteem, while at the same time seeking to organise society in accordance with a corporatist model which, in the eyes of its critics, was dangerously reminiscent of Mussolini's attempts at social engineering.
The experiment was, at first, wildly successful. The result was a genuine social transformation, as many descamisados were raised to the rank of, at the very least, aspirants to middle-class status. The figure of Eva Peron, Peron's wife who became a symbol of the aspirations of the poor, gained world-wide fame (her enemies would say notoriety). But soon the country ran out of money, and, deprived of the counsel of his wife who died of cancer at a tragically young age, Peron became increasingly authoritarian. His overthrow by the military was to start a difficult chapter in Argentine history. The saga continued when Peron finally returned to power in 1974 and, in the last months of his life, veered sharply to the right. On his death a year later he was succeeded by his second wife and vice-president, the inept and weak-willed Isabel. She in turn was soon ousted by the most vicious military government Argentina has ever known. This coup coincided with the predominance of right-wing dictatorships throughout the southern part of Latin America. The years of the proceso (the label the military junta attached to their reign of terror) were undoubtedly the blackest in Argentine history, as thousands joined the ranks of the "disappeared".
Democracy returned to the country in 1983, as it soon would across most of the continent. By then it was clear that Argentina would have to reinvent not only its political institutions, but its self-image, too. Years of misgovernment had left the country prostrate, weighed down by a colossal foreign debt, and debilitated by a fractured society, that had been torn apart, both physically and morally, by the state terrorism of the military junta.
There began a process of transformation. Democracy was consolidated and Peronism irrevocably legalised. The years of the Alfonsin presidency (1983-1989) provided the party with its first experience as the country's legal, rather than underground, opposition. But the 1980s were as discouraging for Argentina as for most of the continent. Economic stagnation, inflation (which quickly became hyperinflation) and continuing debt problems marked what later became known as "the lost decade".
The 1990s, however, were quite different from the 1980s. Once again, Argentina's claims to be a special case were put to the test. On the one hand, Carlos Saul Menem, the democratically-elected Peronist President, completed his party's transformation from populist movement to fully-fledged imitation of the European New Right. Massive privatisation and deregulation changed the face of the economy. At the same time, the perceived frivolity and corruption of Menem's entourage led many Argentines to fear that their country would be transformed into yet another "banana republic". One scandal followed another, while an impressive economic growth rate benefitted a select few, while continuing to undermine the standard of living of a middle-class already decimated by the economic crisis of the previous decade, creating in the process an original social category, the "new poor". In a country which continues to be a major food exporter and whose economy saw impressive growth in the first years of the 1990s, genuine hunger accompanied an alarming decline in public health and education standards to make Argentina simultaneously the darling of foreign investors, and a country whose human development profile was fully worthy of the Third World.
Last week's election was widely seen as a long-awaited chance for the people to deliver their verdict on the rule of President Menem who, despite his efforts to stand once again in open violation of the constitution, had by now been effectively reduced to a lame-duck. On 24 October, it became clear that Argentina was about as special a case as one could imagine.
The electorate trounced the ruling Peronist party, giving its candidate, Eduardo Duhalde, a mere 37 per cent of the vote, and rewarding Fernando de la Rua, the leader of the opposition Alianza, with almost 49 per cent. (The candidate of a right-wing neo-liberal party came third, scoring about 10 per cent). For the Peronist party, this was its worst performance ever -- which is saying a great deal.
De la Rua, indeed, has emerged from the campaign as an extraordinarily astute figure. His promise to combat corruption sounds a bit like a call for social justice -- that is to say, it can stand in nicely for the Peronists' own trademark battle cry, from which the party has grown too distant. Yet the establishment was always at ease with the relaxed, avuncular candidate, whose spell as Mayor of the City of Buenos Aires suggested an emphasis on efficiency, honesty and just plain bonhomie. De la Rua is about as un-caudillo-like as anyone could be.
At the same time, in an amazing exercise in political selectivity, the electorate split the ticket in many provinces, voting for a Peronist governor while at the same time supporting De la Rua for President. In the Province of Buenos Aires (the City of Buenos Aires is a separate district), which represents 40 per cent of the national electorate, the Peronist gubernatorial candidate scored a surprising victory, yet this did not prevent De la Rua from taking a majority of the votes cast there. The Senate is again dominated by the Peronists, and will continue to be so until an interim election in the year 2001. In the lower chamber, however, early returns suggest that the Alianza will have a near-majority.
All told, the result is a remarkable expression of political maturity. Above all, this election marks the coming of age of Argentine democracy. In a continent where democracy is still repeatedly put to the test (witness the authoritarian rule of Fujimori in Peru and the neo-caudillismo of Chavez in Venezuela, not to mention the restless fidgeting of the armed forces in Chile following Pinochet's arrest), it was already extraordinary enough that the president was compelled, without resort to violence, to respect the constitution and give up on running for a third term. A few months later, the country voted almost without incident, making clear that it expects no miracles, and is not disposed to give a blank check to any candidate, however charismatic.
The immediate result will doubtless be at least a period of "cohabitation". Peronism will have to reinvent itself, which will not be easy, as Menem has made it clear that he intends to stay at the helm of the party and run again in the year 2003. Meanwhile, De la Rua will seek to govern by "consensus". This implies both keeping his followers together (the Alianza is a coalition of the traditional Radical Party, to which De la Rua belongs, and the leftist Frepaso), and gaining the support of not a few Peronists. (It might help that his own vice-president was a Peronist before he quit the party to help found Frepaso.)
The voters are arguably too sophisticated to insist on an immediate economic transformation, least of all on an imminent fall in unemployment, stubbornly high at 14 per cent. But certainly they expect some changes, a few of them rather soon. The battle against corruption will almost certainly have to draw blood; some figures in Menem's administration will have to be dragged to the courts for irregularities that are just too glaring. (Whether they will go to jail or not is another matter.) Also, tighter regulation of the privatised utility companies (believed to be too cosy with the regulators named by the outgoing government) and greater emphasis on social services seem inevitable.
