An Argentine
novelist writes:
Op-Ed
Contributor
The New York Times
A lot of water has passed
under the bridge since Juan Perón’s time. And it was the expansive waters of our
own broad river that defined the vectors of force last weekend. For once, the
tensions in the American hemisphere flowed on an east-west axis along the Río de
la Plata — which means “River of Silver” and by extension, very appropriately in
this case, “River of Money.”
The struggle was about
energy, both concrete and metaphorical, and equally combustible in both forms.
Across the river in
Unlike the homogenous rallies
of Peronist times, the 30,000 people in this crowd came from very diverse
backgrounds. In
The new vocabulary transcends
distinctions of class: the middle classes have now merged with the poor to
demand their rights. Hence many students and professionals were in attendance
that day, not necessarily attracted by the figure of President Chávez himself so
much as by the anti-imperialist opportunity he symbolized. We Argentines, who
once imagined ourselves more sophisticated, or more European, than the citizens
of neighboring states, were brought closer to the rest of the continent by our
impoverishment, and we find ourselves more open to the idea of pan-Latin
American solidarity.
Perhaps last week’s crowd
also recognized the part that President Chávez’s monetary aid played in our
recuperation of that illusion known as “national identity.” For Argentina had
virtually disappeared as an autonomous country during the presidency of Carlos
Menem from 1989 to 1999, the era of our “carnal relations” with the United
States, which took the form of spurious privatizations and a fictitious exchange
rate.
While many in Argentina
would, nevertheless, not hesitate to call the Venezuelan president a clown or a
madman, it’s worth keeping in mind that a very heady dose of megalomania is a
prerequisite for even dreaming of confronting a rival as overwhelmingly powerful
as the United States — which is also led by a president viewed, in many
quarters, as a clown and a madman.
President Chávez’s weapons of
seduction are his superabundance of petrodollars and his obsession with a shared
Latin American project. His plan is to realize the dream of Simón Bolívar, the
old utopian vision of Latin American integration that today seems more viable
than ever before.
It may be that President Bush
chose to venture into these forgotten Southern latitudes to counter that vision.
In
These things sometimes
backfire. President Bush found himself repudiated on one bank of the Plata while
President Chávez was getting ovations on the opposite one: each contender in his
corner and the moral triumph to the last man left standing, as in a boxing
ring.
Some Argentines severely
criticized President Nestor Kirchner for providing his Venezuelan counterpart
with such a platform, complaining that President Chávez bought and paid for his
visit by showering
Two major Argentine
characteristics are in play here: intrinsic distrust and the need for immediate
gratification. Mr. Chávez awakens both of these inclinations, and it’s
interesting to see them balance each other out. The dream of a single-currency
Latin American Union, modeled on the European Union, to create, insofar as
possible, a buffer against the hegemony of the United States no longer seems so
impossible.
I’m no political analyst; I
have delved into politics only as a fiction writer. But I’m an optimist by
nature, and the feeling of empowerment that President Chávez instills, and that
various South American governments are endorsing, strikes me as a good engine
for further progress — a means of upgrading ourselves from the status of
someone’s backyard into that of a truly autonomous region, beyond Mr. Chávez,
Mr. Bush and every other form of demagoguery.
Luisa Valenzuela is the author of “Black Novel With Argentines” and “The Lizard’s Tail.” This article was translated by Esther Allen from the Spanish.