

Argentina, which to so many of our emigrants had appeared like a promised land, is heading for an unending crisis
Three hundred thousand
Italian savers who had believed in the recovery of Argentina after the hyperinflation
of the 80s and had bought up the country’s profitable Treasury Bonds have
directly experienced just how fragile Latin-American economies (and those
of many other emerging countries) can be: following the Buenos Aires default
of its giant foreign debt of 150 billion dollars - the biggest crack in the
history of world finance - they have lost all their interest and about three
quarters of their capital.
At the same time a million Italians who live on the banks of the Rio de la
Plata, plus another ten million Argentinians of Italian extraction who, in
theory, could take Italian citizenship again, are experiencing the tragedy
of people who, after sacrificing themselves as emigrants in search of a better
future, find they have made the wrong decision. During the first two months
of the year alone in fact, about fifty thousand of them – including businesspersons,
professionals and other exponents of the middle class - have packed their
bags and returned to their country of origin in the hope of making a go of
it. According to most analysts in fact, the Argentinian crisis could be irreversible,
at least for the next ten years, in the sense that after seeing its per-capita
income precipitate in just a few months from over seven to less than four
thousand dollars, the country will find it hard to get back on its feet and
not everybody is prepared to wait for Godot, meaning by that a new ruling
class capable of dragging the country out of the quagmire.
It must be admitted that whosoever picks up the reins after the Duhalde interim,
which should last until the elections in 2003, will not have an enviable task:
at the last count, a quarter of the population of 36 million (in a country
nine times larger than Italy!) is unemployed and 44% of the inhabitants of
cities have slumped below the poverty line. The most disconcerting thing about
it all is that, though four months have passed since it all started, no agreement
has yet been reached as to the real causes, no one seems able to suggest any
viable remedy and no one has the faintest idea how it will all end.
The spectacle of the downfall of what was, no more than fifty years ago, one
of the richest countries in the world and which, even in 2001, will have a
standard of living clearly superior to that of East-European countries, leaves
one both flabbergasted and dismayed. Some take it as a pretext for an ideological
debate, accusing dollarisation and liberalistic policies.
Others point their finger at corruption among the ruling classes and wild
public spending. Some fall back on the quip that the Argentinians have all
the faults and none of the qualities of their Italian and Spanish forebears.
The fact remains that everyone, from president Duhalde to the International
Monetary Fund itself is groping in the dark, adopting one day one line and
the next day another, without being able to foresee, not even in the short
term, the consequences of their actions.
To try and understand what is going on, we must go back to 1945 when Argentina,
with its coffers full of dollars, made selling wheat and meat to a hungry
world, appeared to everyone else as a potential Eldorado. This was the period
of the last great waves of immigrants, above all from the countries defeated
in the Second World War. Decline had already begun to set in by 1946, when
Juan Domingo Peron (and his wife Evita) came into power.
Peron opted for old style protectionism which favoured the rise of a non-competitive
industrial system and at the same time began printing currency to distribute
to his descamisados.
When he was overthrown in ’55, a long period of political and economic instability
started during which the country wasted away the wealth it had accumulated,
was invested by a wave of terrorism, reacted with a fierce (and unlike that
of Chile, inefficient) military dictatorship and completed the job by attacking
the Falklands. If on the one hand the humiliating defeat by Great Britain
for the possession of the archipelago brought about the fall of the regime
and a return to democracy, on the other it speeded up the financial crisis,
which under the presidency of the radical, Raul Alfonsin resulted in an inflation
of 4000% and in the first mass exodus from the country.
During the 1976-1990 fifteen year period, when the banking system collapsed
twice causing the same number of massive flights of capital, the per-capita
income dropped on average by 1% per year, causing Argentina to move back forty
positions in the relevant ratings. In 1991, after Alfonsin, powerless in the
face of the crisis, had left the Casa Rosada a few months ahead of time with
respect to the expiry of his term of office, Carlos Menem was elected president
after being the Peronist governor of the poor and remote province of Rioja.
In view of his party’s precedents and the extravagant promises made by the
candidate during the electoral campaign, the markets were ready for the worst.
On the contrary, Menem did honour to his Levantine origins and, practically
from one day to the next, made a full U-turn, changing from a prodigal Populist
to a strong supporter of market economy. In the course of six months, his
Minister of the Economy, the Italo-Argentine, Domingo Cavallo, wiped out inflation,
launched a new currency anchored to the dollar and restricted monetary circulation
to actual reserves. Confidence returned almost by magic.
A massive return of capital from abroad revived production and a privatisation
campaign involving banks, oil companies and utilities attracted the interest
of a large part of the world and filled the state coffers again. Between 1991
and 1997, the growth rate – 6.1 percent/year – was the highest in all South
America and Cavallo was hailed as a new financial genius. These were years
not only of prosperity but also of excitement and hope. Some people even dared
speak of a miracle. But the “Argentinian curse”, as the inability of the country
to consolidates its progress is called, was just around the corner.
The first shock came with the Mexican crisis of 1995, which Cavallo only managed
to overcome by injecting fresh capital from abroad and raising interest rates,
which took the debt over danger point.
Then, when Menem, in search of popular consent for a second term of office,
started spending left right and centre in the very best Peronist style, favouring
generalised corruption that spread from the government ministers right down
to the very last police station, and then even got rid of Cavallo, who was
beginning to cast his shadow over the president, the foundations were laid
for the present crisis. In point of fact, the Country withstood the situation
for another five years and the bitter fate of being overcome by events fell
on Menem’s successor, the weak and inconclusive radical Fernando de la Rua,
but the alarm had sounded much earlier, even though not many had been inclined
to listen. As we have said, the debate around the causes of the disaster is
still in full swing.
The Economist has pinpointed at least three schools of thought that tend to
integrate one another. The first points a finger at the peso’s being tied
by law to the dollar, a measure that had been welcomed in 1992. This law deprived
the government of any chance of using monetary policies to tackle new situations,
such as the irresistible rise in value of the dollar, the fall in prices of
agricultural produce, which represent the big share of Argentinian exports
and the devaluation of the currency of Brazil, the country’s major business
partner. To support the fixed rate of exchange, Argentina should have implemented
drastic structural reforms and a gradual “Americanisation” of its economy.
Instead, it continued in the same old way, gradually losing competitiveness
and heading straight for a no-return recession, with the result that numerous
multinational companies which had invested in Buenos Aires took flight. Theory
number two makes out that the problem lies with a fast increase in public
spending, most of which financed by issuing foreign bonds at high rates of
interest during the second Menem presidency. Instead of concentrating national
resources on modernising the economy, he tackled unemployment caused by privatisation
by distributing subsidies left right and centre and allowing the expenditure
of the provinces, which Buenos Aires is constitutionally called upon to straighten
out, run out of control.
At the same time, he was unable, or more likely did not want, to reform a
tax system of rare inefficiency tailored ad hoc to enable the wealthier classes
to evade their dues. The third school of thought places most of the fault
on the foolishness and corruption of the politicians in whom the Argentinians
(who, with the so-called “dishpan revolution”, liquidated four presidents
in the space of just four weeks, a record) have lost all confidence.
Such foolishness, already evident towards the end of the Menem era, became
even more obvious when, following the election of De la Rua, the Casa Rosada
again returned to the left while the Peronists still had the majority in Parliament
and the control of a large share of the provinces. After wasting a year quarrelling
with his coalition, changing one minister after another and then refusing
to adopt the solutions they presented, at a certain stage, De La Rua was unable
to come up with anything better than recalling Cavallo and granting him full
powers. Initially, the markets reacted well and a light appeared at the end
of the tunnel.
Unfortunately, the man no longer had the magic touch of the early-90s and
went on to make a series of fatal mistakes: first of all he tried to save
his creature, the peso-dollar parity, at all costs, invoking the support of
the International Monetary Fund; then he jeopardised the solidity of the banking
system and pension funds by forcing them to lend money to the government at
impossible conditions; finally, on December 1, by now in dire straights, he
virtually froze the savings of the man in the street, imposing a ceiling of
1,000 dollars a month on current account withdrawals. Faced with a general
revolt, De la Rua decided to throw Cavallo out, but only a few days later,
by now besieged in the Casa Rosada and forced to use the army to quell the
anger of the people, he himself was forced to resign, opening a constitutional
void finally filled by the election of Eduard Duhalde, the Peronist candidate
defeated by De la Rua less than two years earlier. One of Duhalde’s first
moves was of course to unhook the peso from the dollar, but by now it was
too late.
Duhalde is now faced with the almost impossible task of reconciling the need
to keep the masses calm with that of adopting the inevitable “blood and tears”
measures required to set the country back on its feet and continue receiving
international aid; a battle for survival to be fought on two fronts, without
even being sure that the Peronist party to which he belongs will protect his
rear. For the time being, Duhalde, under the pressures of popular riots, perhaps
fuelled by his political opponents, has concentrated his attention on the
first need rather than the second and placed all the weight of peso devaluation
on the shoulders of the banks, of the electricity and telephone companies
and of foreign creditors. But this decision could well have a boomerang effect
- the collapse of the banking system and the withdrawal from the country of
a part of the large foreign banks which control it, something that would make
it almost impossible to re-launch the economy. Meanwhile the peso, no longer
linked to the dollar, is slipping further and further down, opening the path
to an inflation with which Latin America is unfortunately well acquainted.
When it comes to words, the entire world appears to want to help Argentina,
though it is hard to understand how a country with so many resources, with
90% of the population of European origin and well educated, has managed to
get itself into such a mess.
Spain, which currently has the presidency of the EU, has huge interests in
Argentina and is doing its best to rally its European partners to give Buenos
Aires a hand. Italy is also doing its best at both political and economic
level. George Bush, after a period of relative disinterest, has in turn realised
that an implosion of the south-American country would create instability and
uncertainty in the entire continent just at a time when the USA is trying
to set up a free-trade zone from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. Consequently,
the Monetary Fund has also fallen into line. But the good intentions will
soon come to an end unless Duhalde presents an organic recovery plan that
goes well beyond the measures adopted so far: apart from the default problem,
to which the international community has by now become resigned, he must impose
a budget with cuts in expenditure amounting to at least 10 billion Euro and
stringent economic restrictions on the provinces, which are reluctant to give
up their historical independence. So far, the measures he has taken have only
caused critical reactions in international financial spheres, which are convinced
that the man has neither the ability nor the authority to really take the
bull by the horns.
Apart from his inconsistent fluctuation between Peronist populism and declarations
of allegiance to the market, he lacks the very ingredient that is so essential
at the moment - the confidence of his fellow citizens.
Today, those who still have some money are simply waiting for the restrictions
to be lifted before moving their capital abroad. Very few in any case are
prepared to accept the fact that the Country has lived for too long above
its means and that the only solution is to tighten its belt.
(trad.Interpres-Giussano)











