Tag Archive | “History”

Why They Fought


An open cabildo discussed the legitimacy of the viceroy and the new local government that replaced him.

On 20th May 1810, the third day of the “Semana de Mayo” in which Argentina began its fight for political independence from Spain, revolutionaries decided to stage a production of Voltaire’s ‘Rome Saved’. The alternate title of the play, and its most dramatic figure, was Catiline—the Roman politician who urged his fellow-conspirators to murder Cicero and Cato, burn the city, break up the corrupt Senate, and take back power for the people.

One might have expected main actor and revolutionary Morante to take the part of insurgent Catiline. In fact, he did just the opposite—playing Cicero, who executed these conspirators without due process. The chief of police, aware of the potentially unpleasant repercussions which might fall out from any treatment of tyranny no matter who wore which tights, requested Morante to feign illness and not appear, so a last-minute production of the German ‘Misanthropy and Repentance’ might be subbed in. (Perhaps a counter-move wanting in subtlety.) Morante took the stage regardless; his compatriots cheered him on; cries rang out for the freedom of Buenos Aires, and a skirmish with authorities began.

But the puzzle persists. Why did the revolutionary choose to play the incumbent and conservative leader? (“We want a chief, a warrior, a dictator,” at one point Morante cried.) And why did so many of the revolutionaries’ writings call for a powerful central government, at times even a monarchy? According to priest and scholar Guillermo Furlong, the solution to these mysteries is that the struggle for independence was never waged by or on behalf of ordinary Argentine individuals at all—instead, the revolutionaries’ objective was to replace ineffective Spanish central power with a native version of the same, sustaining authority in more effective form.

‘The Golden Key’

Furlong wasn’t the first or last person to put forward this notion, but he was one of the most dedicated to tracing precisely the ideas behind events. Born in 1889 in Santa Fe, the son of Irish immigrants, he followed his Jesuit training in Córdoba with studies at the Monastery of Veruela in Aragón, Spain; at Georgetown University, in Washington D.C; and, after a period teaching Argentine history at the Colegio del Salvador in Buenos Aires, at a theological institute in Barcelona. The fruit of years of solitary reading and writing in his spartan room (bare except for high-stacked piles of books), as well as snumerous trips around the world to dig through archives, was an astounding 2000 works—the most famous his 759-page doorstopper ‘Nacimiento y desarrollo de la filosofía en el Río de la Plata 1536-1810′.

Guillermo Furlong at his study

Furlong’s work challenged the traditional account, which claimed that the roots of the Argentine fight for independence lay in the two revolutions in France and the United States championing individual rights and a contract-based society. Rousseau in particular was often cited as an influence on Argentine revolutionaries—an idea still so current that in this weekend’s edition of Clarín’s magazine supplement, the popular historian Felipe Pigna simply puts it forward as an assumption in his column. For Furlong, however, the idea of Rousseau as an influence was absurd. Not only did the revolutionaries never argue for a social contract between sovereign individuals, they may not even have had access to Rousseau’s texts at all. (The first edition of the ‘Contrat Social’ was published in Paris in 1762, but only reached Argentina in 1810, months after the revolution had already occurred.)

And yet Furlong was firmly committed to the idea of intellectual—not simply economic—influences. For him there was most definitely a “philosopher of the revolution,” the identity of whom the title of one of his articles leaves little room for doubt: ‘Francisco Suárez Fue el Filósofo de la Revolución’. “It was the Spanish philosopher and not the French philosopher,” he writes, “who gave men in 1810 the golden key to open the gates of liberty.” If, today, Suárez’ name doesn’t ring familiar in Western ears the same way that (say) Locke or Hobbes does, it is true that for a vast stretch of the 16th to 18th century he was a theologian and jurist of considerable importance, widely taught in Europe. (Leibniz inveighed bitterly against his influence in German universities.) Suárez was referred to as the Doctor Eximio, and was a scholastic—but unlike many scholastics, wrote in elegant prose and concerned himself with the practicalities of politics.

What attracted Argentine revolutionaries to Suárez’ work—and the reason why his ‘Defensio Fidei’ was burned in London on the order of James I—was its injunction against divine right and absolute monarchy. This didn’t imply democracy. Instead, Suárez based his argument on the idea of a pre-existing pact between a government and a (naturally social, family-based) people, eternal and arranged by God. Any temporal ruler could fill the place, and no particular leader had a divine blessing; the ruler was less important than the existence of the pact itself. Following Suárez’s theory, then, the Argentine people had a pact with Spain, and would have remained happy with any Spanish governor so long as he served as an efficient coordinating force. It was only when Spain couldn’t uphold its end of the bargain that Argentines were forced to fill the void.

Far from being an effective authority, in 1810 Spain was putting on a poor show as colonizer, dealing distractedly with its overseas holdings. There were problems enough to deal with at home, as French invasions during the Napoleonic Wars threw the country into chaos. England seized the advantage to attempt naval claims on the Rio de la Plata, an ideal market for the flush of goods produced by the industrial revolution. When Spain failed to come to Argentina’s defense, the latter was forced to fend for itself; the sacred pact was broken. In a way, then, the assertion of Argentine identity was a matter of convenience—with Spain weak, Argentine élites needed to replace the country’s authority, as it indeed did with its first government (the “primera junta”).

To put it another way, Argentina became Spain, became its own imperializer, and even used the Spanish philosophy of Suárez to justify itself. As Furlong writes, the Argentine revolutionaries were “more Spanish than the Spanish”; the Semana de Mayo was “less a fight between slaves and owners, than a transfer of power between gentlemen.”

Francisco Suárez is considered the most brilliant and influential early-modern philosophers. He wrote on metaphysics, theology and epistemology.

Appraisals

Does Furlong’s theory make sense? Suárez never visited the country in person, but he did have a strong influence in Latin America through the activities of Spanish missionary priest José Aprieta. His books were well represented in libraries in Argentina’s major cities during the revolutionary period, even when Cartesianism rather than scholasticism began to dominate, and even after the expulsion of the Jesuits from Argentina (which Furlong also attributes to the philosophy of Suárez). In the claustros of Córdoba, revolutionaries “read avidly and commented arduously” on the ‘Opera Omnia, Disputationes Metaphysicae, De Legibus’, and other texts. The currency of these ideas on the continent was of course even stronger—when Belgrano traveled with Rivadavia through Europe, he absorbed them fully, and grew convinced that a Suárez-esque monarchy with a single, replaceable leader was the country’s best option. Somewhat romantically, he envisioned this scenario in Argentina as a recreation of the Incan empire.

Others are not so convinced of the importance of Suárez. Perhaps Furlong worked too hard to justify Jesuit ideas in arguing for scholasticism as a revolutionary movement; perhaps he attached too much weight to Spanish intellectual influences. His ‘Nacimiento y desarrollo’ was published in 1952 by the Fundación Vitoria y Suárez, formed in Buenos Aires under the sponsorship of the Institución Cultural Española; the edition was published “with the generous help” of the Instituto de Cultura Hispánica in Madrid.

Or perhaps the theory might be taken as another representative in the genre of clever, involuting metaphysical accounts. In “La Revolución,” the first volume of his series ‘La Evolución de las Ideas Argentinas’,” José Ingenieros alludes to the claims of Argentine paleontologist Florentino Ameghino for human origins in South America—in a sense, European conquistadores were actually the genetic descendants of the Indians, and in the New World simply “discovered” themselves. Similarly, for Suárez (popularized through Furlong), revolutionaries may have appeared to be overthrowing Spanish leadership—but in reality were simply acting the colonizer, replicating the structure.

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Malva: A Transvestite Eye on Argentine History


Malva (Photo: Marieta Vazquez)

Recently published autobiography ‘Malva, mi recorrido’ could be a take on Argentina’s recent history through a transvestite lens, giving the word to a community segregated for many years.

According to statistics from transvestites’ organisations, this community has an average life of 35 years, giving Malva, a 90-year-old transvestite, the opportunity – if not the need – to recall a collective memory that has nearly vanished.

Malva would not be your typical history teacher, but her life story as a transvestite in the 40s and 50s in Argentina is certainly an eye opener on Argentina’s complex history. When I came across Malva’s story through a Centro Cultural Rojas (CCR) programme and saw that she was signing her autobiography, I immediately contacted her for an interview.

You have just published your autobiography, how did this project come about?

I am proud to say this is my book; this is my story, my life story. I could not get my book published for a year and finally Centro Cultural Rojas opened its doors to me, their communication project Technology Gender coordinated by Paula Viturro was interested in publishing my book. They are great people and I am very thankful for their collaboration. The book was published on 27th April and we had a presentation to the public on 15th May. It was wonderful. I have been writing my journals for some time, but this book took me a lot of time and thought, recollecting all the bits and pieces of my memory to make it what it is and what I wanted it to be.

So what is it about, what did you want it to be?

Well, it is the story of my life in Argentina, specifically from 1943 to 1955. This not a political history book, it is simply the memories of my path. But living under Perón has had an influence on my living conditions so I reflect on that. The book starts with my up-bringing in Chile and how I eventually decided to cross the Andes and come to Buenos Aires. I could say there are two parts in the book; firstly from 1943 to 1947 when I left home, my first experiences and my settling-in in Buenos Aires. In the second part I talk about the period that starts and finishes with the presidency of General Juan Domingo Perón; from 1947 to 1955.

In what way was Perón a turning point in your life?

Perón was elected democratically but the system and society he forged was one that segregated us and many others completely. Of course he did some good things. But for people like me, no, his policies gave a disastrous turn to my living conditions. He did a lot of very good reforms for the workers, very important and good reforms, because there was no social security whatsoever before him. So people liked him because of that. But he was a fascist, completely homophobic and against any kind of behaviour deemed excessive. He installed a system that prohibited a lot of things and excluded a lot of people, he censored speech and thought, and you couldn’t say anything against Perón or his wife Eva. He had a police like the Gestapo to control everything that would be against the system. There was the Alianza National Libertadora, adulators of Mussolini and Hitler, completely anti-Semitic. He did well because he was re-elected democratically and because of a few reforms he did people loved him (pension fund, social benefits, work benefits, paid holidays, and education). But gradually people got tired, well, at least the military. It was ten years of authoritarianism, violent abuses and restriction of speech and thought, slowly shifting his personal cult into something pathological.

Malva and the girls all dressed up. (Photo courtesy of Malva)

What was your living conditions in Buenos Aires during those times?

I did many things, from waiter, to chef, to couturier. Buenos Aires was an exciting city to live in where interesting people lived. I heard Gardel, Troilo and Pugliese live; I would go to the cabarets, cafes and other nightlife places. The city was very different from today. But it was also very difficult and restrictive, in 1947 almost every night there were arrests of transvestites and homosexuals, we would not spend more than 30 days without a judicial cause. [Malva’s several arrests and imprisonments in the Villa Devoto Prison are described in the book]. We were prisoners because we liked men, because we were “disrupting the public order”. At one point we reunited in ‘Maricas Unidas Argentinas’ as a social and political organisation but our group was quickly dismantled. Most of us lived in slums or in terrible conditions. We were subjected to constant judgement, treated brutally and humiliated for the sake of not fitting in the system. I just want homosexuals from today; and the society in general to know about the way we lived and were treated.

With the change of governments did your living conditions change?

It was the same situation, worse actually during the dictatorship.  We had a community but it was very disparate, we had to hide. All the censorship, control and exclusion continued and worsened but it wasn’t just us anymore, it was generalised. There was no human rights organisations to defend anyone. The only one who wasn’t homophobic was Agustín Lanusse but other than him it was constant reprisal and repression. [Malva’s travels to Brazil and other South American countries are described in the book]. In the 60s and 70s our lifestyle became more widespread and a transvestite artistic movement started to develop with a lot of carnivals taking place. Then Perón was re-elected for a third time, after which I left to Brazil. Following the summer carnivals I came back to Buenos Aires; where my heart stands.

Since the restoration of democracy how did your situation improve?

Today we have the first government in our history that actually gives us a place in society. Any gay person can freely get married! That’s a huge step. Transvestites can dress up freely, protest, organise reunions, we are accepted and tolerated in today’s society thanks to the current government. Of course as any government there are problems in the system and negative aspects to its policies, but for us as a community the situation has gotten much better. Under Alfonsín as well our living conditions got better but it didn’t last.

In comparison to other South American countries, how does Argentina fair?

There are still quite a lot of restrictions in Brazil and even more in Peru. Venezuela is pretty restrictive as well. Uruguay and Chile are more liberal. Colombia is very free and so are Mexico and Paraguay. Argentina is definitely leading the way in terms of sexual tolerance and freedom. However our democracy is young and I think that we need to sustain it; everyone needs to participate and maintain the freedom we have acquired.

Pride March in Buenos Aires – 'We are all equal in a different way' (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

What would be your message to younger people?

I think young people, transvestites, gay, people like us, should get politicised. I think that is very important. To sustain and enhance what has been achieved until now because we don’t know what might happen tomorrow. I am not saying transvestites should have a political party as such, I think people should join whichever party they support. But younger people should strive to represent us as a community at a political level, as governors and senators.

How could the current situation continue to improve?

I am so happy that the situation is what it is today. When the equal rights law was voted we were all invited at the Casa Rosada. It was a way of saying to us that we are human beings and that we are part of this society. I went inside the Casa Rosada! Never have I thought such thing would be possible. I was scared when I went in. When I arrived, a guard said to me “Go ahead, Madam” before, it would have been “Go away, fucking bitch”. This government has done a lot in terms of human rights and in terms of gay rights. Before we would get assaulted or killed in the street, today young transvestites are free to do anything anytime.

As of challenges to come, I think we should press on the change of sex. Lawyers do not understand what it is like; they only take a medical point of view. I think we should also fight for the right of adoption. Why wouldn’t we be able to give love to a child? So many children are abandoned or mistreated. Who says we can’t have children? Who says we can’t dress them, feed them, and love them? People often see us as exuberant people, who live in debauchery, but it is really not true, we are more tamed and probably more moral than our neighbours! It is a stereotype we should confront. There are still some wars to be won but we are definitely making improvements. I wrote an article on what family is in El Teje [see below], this would never have been possible a few years ago.

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Hypothetical History: British Argentina


Ever wondered what would have happened if the British had been successful in conquering Argentina back in 1807? One person who has devoted time and effort to wondering just that is 28-year-old Yosef Robinson from Montréal, Canada, who has created a website called British Argentina.

Yosef Robinson has dedicated many hours re-imagining Argentine history.

Robinson obtained a BA in Geography from Rutgers University in New Jersey, during which he took a course on Latin America and developed an interest in both Anglophone and developing countries. His hobby is alternate history discourse which is based on the Many Worlds Theory, proposed by Hugh Everett III in 1957. The theory involves quantum mechanics and states that parallel universes arise because the universe constantly makes copies of itself. We do not perceive the copies because of a “decoherence barrier” which prevents air molecules from one world interfering with the other.

Robinson, then, considers British Argentina to exist in an out-of-sight universe rather than merely in the realm of ‘what if’. Using online documents and encyclopaedias, he has deduced what is different between our world and the other, which he has named Auchmuty-Whitelocke World (AWW), after two British soldiers who tried to conquer Montevideo and Buenos Aires respectively.

The website is full of detail such as population figures, flag designs, Anglicised place names and even a slang dictionary for AWW, a country where dulce de leche and marmite have equal followings and where inhabitants enjoy both afternoon tea and mate. Such details, many of which have to be speculated, serve to bring the other history to life and accentuate the differences from our universe.

Given that Robinson has yet to visit South America, why did he decide to study Argentina to such depth? “The country was quite wealthy a hundred years ago and was said to have the same potential to develop as Canada – both countries had wheat to export. Now Argentina’s fallen way behind,” he explains. “It’s an exercise in what Argentina would be like had things gone more positively.”

Re-enactment of the British invasion of Argentina by Tercio de Montañeses de Buenos Ayres

In AWW, the British conquered the Río de la Plata region from the Spaniards in 1807 and Argentina became part of the British Empire. Would this have made a big difference? Look no further than the website for an answer: “The fact is, the British have been able to make settler countries like Canada, the US, or Australia more developed in a way that other European powers haven’t. This is in large part due to the English common law system, which spawned strong democratic values and relative freedom from political, business, and judicial corruption.”

According to Robinson, colonisation could have meant the avoidance of the dictatorships, including the final 1976-83 bloody period of military rule, as well as the economic crash. “There would be a lower instance of governmental mismanagement and corruption. Argentina would be more like Canada or Australia. Not to say that these countries don’t have corruption but it’s on a lower level. The 2001 crisis would not have been as severe because there wouldn’t have been so much debt or misspending of money. There would have been a milder recession like in the States.”

So much for the political and economic differences between Argentina and AWW, what about the geographical? “As in many countries colonised by the British, the capital would have moved more inland, to a town near Santa Fe that I’ve called Wilsonton,” explains Robinson. “Buenos Aires would have a slightly smaller population but it would still be the main cultural and financial centre and generally more of a prominent world city like Paris or Chicago. Also, there would have been no Falklands War in 1982 – there would have been no need for a dispute.” AWW has English and Spanish as official languages in the same way that Canada has English and French.

When asked what others think of the website, Robinson says: “I have a number of Argentine, Uruguayan and other South American acquaintances and most of them like it enough. Some maybe not so much but I’d say generally the feedback is quite positive. I make it clear to people that we are talking about two different worlds – one here and one there. I want to improve Argentina’s standing in the world and pull up where I feel it has suffered historical injustice and fallen behind its potential.”

Finally, what of the future of British Argentina? “I will update the website with more material as and when needed and I have the manuscript for a Spanish translation but haven’t yet found someone who can devote the time to checking it. I had been thinking about a writing a book on it, though lately I’m wondering if short stories or novels about the characters might be better because then more people would be captivated by AWW.”

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Hudson Nature Reserve: A Living Museum


“Museums in Europe are beautiful, but they’re very closed off. They’re like cemeteries. (The Hudson Nature Reserve) shouldn’t be a dead museum.” These are the words of Ruben Ravera, curator of the William Henry Hudson museum and nature reserve are located to the south of Buenos Aires, just outside Quilmes.

The museum is based around the house of William Henry Hudson, author and scientist, who was born in Argentina to parents from the US, and lived here for almost 30 years before moving to Britain. Although the park does celebrate Hudson’s past, Ravera insists it is very much committed to “projecting the dreams of Hudson” in the present.

Ruben Raver, curator of the Henry Hudson museum. Photo/ Jessie Akin

Today it stands out for the sheer range of objectives it pursues: preserving history, preserving nature, inviting scientists to study, educating school groups, supporting social development and working with indigenous communities are all activities on its agenda.

Although it is by no means the park’s only asset, the historical value of the museum is great. Hudson is remarkable for being one of the few people who unites skill as a fiction writer with talent as a scientist. On the literary side, his record is impressive: he wrote several novels, the best known of which is titled “Green Mansion,” and he moved in circles with Virginia Woolf and George Bernard Shaw. Although his books are little known in Britain, he remains popular in other countries. Most notably inJapan translations of his work are on the high school syllabus.

Most of his novels focus on the theme of nature and the author and politician Cunninghame Graham once said: “Of all the writers that I can think of, Hudson is the one that gets closest to nature. He himself was nature personified.” The author Joseph Conrad also praised him highly, writing: “The secret of his charm as a man and as a writer is still mysterious to me, something supernatural. He was a product of nature, and had something of nature’s fascination and mystery.”

The tree Hudson is thought to have played in as a child. Photo/Jessie Akin

As a scientist Hudson was also accomplished. He is described on the park’s website as “one of the most important naturalists of his time” and as well as publishing a number of books, he also exchanged letters with Charles Darwin. He was particularly interested in bird life, and after moving to Britain in 1869 was one of the founding members of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) He was also a great conservationist at a time of the industrial revolution, when few people either in Europe or Argentina gave a thought to the damage that the unregulated creation of factories, mines and railways could cause. He is also credited with being the first known etiologist, or scientist of animal behaviour. To put it another way, he was the forefather of the likes of David Attenborough.

An ecological installation by a local artist. Photo/Jessie Akin

Artefacts relating to all of this can be seen today in the museum and surrounding parkland. However, that’s only a tiny part of what the Hudson reserve has to offer. Ravera asserts: “It’s not all about the life of Hudson, it’s about doing things inspired by Hudson.” He insists that the reserve should be actively engaged with the community in the present, and should put Hudson’s passion for preserving the environment in a modern context. One way the park does this is by demonstrating alternative energy sources, including solar power and bio fuel. It is also home to a homemade fuel-efficient oven and Ravera hopes to use the museum’s resources to spread the design in Buenos Aires’ villas, where fuel is scarce and makeshift housing gets unbearably cold during the winter. The park also plays an important role in preserving biodiversity in Buenos Aires province, and it is a refuge for hundreds of forms of bird and plant life.

Ravera also emphasises the importance of not just using the park to preserve nature, but of getting actively involved in education. Talking about the park’s role in preserving the environment, he says: “We need new people and a new way of thinking, and it’s difficult to change an older person’s mind. That’s why it’s better to try and educate the younger generation the right way than change the minds of the older one.” He laments that even now, as people become aware of the importance of biodiversity, there is still a long way to go: “There used to be around 50 species of tree in Buenos Aires. Now the average resident here can name three. There’s an incredible lack of knowledge.” Today the park tries to change this and engage the community, inviting school groups and scout organisations to stay in the park for free.

Ravera also stresses the role of the park in fostering development in Argentine society in a more general way. The reserve is located just to the south of Buenos Aires, near some of the city’s poorest districts. As such, Ravera also uses the centre as a sort of community base, which hosts installations by local artists, concerts and festivals, including an important winter solstice celebration organised by the indigenous community. Ravera tells me, “Some people ask us why we do it. ‘What has Hudson got to do with the indigenous?’ But the point is that we’re doing what he would have wanted.” He also relates social development to Hudson’s fight to conserve nature, saying “The idea of diversity is that you don’t express preference for one culture over another,” and this isn’t just true in the natural world, but in human society as well.

The reserve is about letting nature in, and spreading culture out. Photo/Jessie Akin

In the end, the park is about Hudson, but it’s also about inclusion and social progress. “You don’t have to build a fence around the reserve and say ‘this is nature, and that isn’t’,” Ravera tells me. Instead, the park is all about inviting nature in, and spreading culture out, making this is a museum that is very much alive.

The museum is open from Wednesday to Sunday, 9.30am to 5pm. The address is Calle 1356 (El Zaino) between Avenida Hudson and 1379 (1888), Florenciao Varela. Contact the park by calling 2229 497 314 or emailing [email protected]. For more information visit the website:http://parquehudson.blogspot.com/2007/08/atlas.html

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Opera Pampa


Photo by Beatrice Murch

“Prepare to discover the history of Argentina in an unprecedented and unparalleled show, where the beginnings of a nation and its traditions are shown as never before.” The publicists for this show cannot emphasise quite how impressive this show is: “one of the best shows in the world”, “magical”, “expressive”, “one of the best shows in the world”. Well, there was certainly an unprecedented and unparalleled amount of sentimentality and tackiness.

The musical show covers the history Argentina, from first Spanish landing, through independence and Julio Argentino Roca’s conquest of the desert to 20th century European immigration. You might be thinking, “Those are rather hefty topics to be covering in one show” and you would be right. However, the Opera Pampa people have niftily circumvented that little problem by depicting each part of history in much the same way; There were military men on horses. There were semi-naked indigenous communities, also on horses. They would charge at each other and then indigenous people would die in large numbers.


Photo by Beatrice Murch

Never has the term ‘one-trick-pony’ been so apt. The traditional zamba dance was a nice touch, but apart from that it was just two hours of men in costumes riding furiously around La Rural stadium with the occasional illustrative song and dance. The music was mostly easy listening pop inspired by Karl Jenkins with the occasional pan-flute over the top. The dancing was nice, but not spectacular. It was made worse by the fact that the stadium is enormous, so it was like watching mice dancing. All of the scenes were bathed in deep shades of red and blue, which gave the odd sensation of watching a horse show inside a disco.

The most painful element in the show was the singing. The singers themselves weren’t bad, but the songs that punctuated each ‘storyline’ were quite horrendous. At one point, a Mapuche woman in a flimsy dress is left behind by her people and sings a song about death and being forgotten. I felt distinctly uncomfortable thinking about the pueblos originarios who had marched to Buenos Aires only two weeks before that. I doubt they would be too impressed that their history has been distilled into a two minute song involving a scantily clad woman wriggling around in the sand.

However, let’s not forget that Opera Pampa is not just a show. There is a reception before the show and a dinner afterwards. Polite members of staff in ponchos and boots welcome the audience to drink glasses of wine and eat empanadas whilst shopping for equine souvenirs. They then militantly shunt the guests out again to watch the show. There is a traditional asado dinner provided afterwards.

I am not sure that the hospitality made up for the show. It was disappointing to attend this show two weeks after the bicentenary celebrations. So much effort was dedicated to highlighting the triumphs of the country’s complicated history at the bicentenary celebrations, it seemed ludicrous to see this hammy interpretation of Argentine history being peddled for $300. There was none of the “magic” or “realism” that was advertised: they really were just flogging a dead horse.

Reservations can be made via www.operapampa.com.ar or by calling 4777 – 5557. Shows take place on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm. The show costs $120, dinner and a show costs $300 and a VIP package costs $460. Children up to the age of 12 are half price. The shows are all in Spanish.

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A Second Independence for Argentina


Photo by Guilermo
Argentine military standing in formation on 9 de Julio to celebrate the Argentine Bicentenary

“We were capable, We are capable.” The slogan has repeated itself on government radio and television adverts throughout Argentina, which is celebrating 200 years since the 25th May revolution that eventually led to the country’s independence on 9th July 1816. The natural question such a slogan begs, “of what exactly?” One assumes its independence from Spain. Yet two centuries later, though nobody’s colony, many are still asking: How independent is Argentina really?

Bicentenary Blues

Despite a flurry of festivities that rang in Argentina’s third century, beyond the exhibitions, concerts, and flag-waving, the bicentenary has also been an opportunity to reflect on the country’s past, present and future. What exactly has the country been capable of and what are the challenges that it faces? This is what many Argentines – particularly intellectuals, academics, and those active in social movements – have been attempting to do: remind us of the issues that get lost in the shuffle and to celebrate with eyes wide open.

I spoke with Argentine historians Hilda Sabato and Elsa Bruzzone to gain insight into the significance of the bicentenary and the state of Argentina today and throughout its 200 years. Both have been actively working to contribute their voices to the bicentenary buzz: Sabato through the website ‘Historiadores y el Bicentenario’ (Historians and the Bicentenary) which hopes to “give a space in which historians can publicly circulate questions that we have been debating in recent years with respect to our history”; and Bruzonne through her contribution on Argentina’s natural resources to the newly-released ‘Pensar la Nación’ (Thinking the Nation), a collection of essays written by a host of academics in order to not only discuss the country’s history but what is “the best Argentina we can have”.

These and a host of other events – like ‘The Other Bicentenary’ encampment in Plaza Congreso on 24th and 25th May sponsored by a host of social movement groups and community radio stations – have sprung up because of what many see as a lack of depth and discussion around the occasion.

Photo by Guilermo
Float for the province of Cordoba makes it way on 9 de Julio leaving confetti in its wake

“There is a lot of noise but not too much beyond that,” says Sabato, a professor at the University of Buenos Aires (UBA) and principal investigator of the National Council of Scientific and Technical Investigations, CONICET.

With the famous Avenida 9 de Julio set up like a tourist brochure – each province of the country on display in its own colourful stall – and events like an antique auto show, Sabato reflects, “It’s going to be fun maybe, tomorrow, day after tomorrow … then we’re going to go to the World Cup. I see the tone of the bicentenary on the same level as that or even less so.”

The issues at hand are neither pleasant nor obscure, but those that all nations must address: economic stability, the quality of life of its citizens, social division, land and the use of its natural resources, and political and democratic freedom and participation. And with more than 20% of the 40 million citizens living below the poverty line, 60% of families without medical coverage, a public education system in deterioration, and 40% of its workers labouring “off the books”, all while battling rising inflation, Argentina has plenty to discuss.

“It’s not the bicentenary that one dreamed in their youth,” says Bruzzone, author of three editions of the book Water Wars. “We dreamed the dreams of the liberators of this continent, like Bolivar and San Martín. One dreamed of arriving at the bicentenary with this dream totally fulfilled, with a county without social inequality, without poverty and exclusion, without misery, of a country with jobs and healthcare and housing and education for everyone.”

Weakened State

In talking with Sabato and Bruzonne, it became clear that understanding Argentina today is impossible without particularly understanding the last 100 years and what both see as the dismantling of the powers of and protections by the state. Major events? The rise and fall of Peronism, the military coup in 1976 and the junta’s stranglehold until 1983, the neo-liberal economic policies of Carlos Menem’s populist government, the devastating crash of 2001, and the rebuilding that has been taking place ever since.

YPF logo courtesy of Wikipedia

In the first half of the 20th century, particularly after the economic crash of 1929 and 1930 and after WWII, Argentina saw a strengthening of its industry – the state-owned oil enterprise YPF was created and the Central Bank and railways were nationalised, which helped finance the construction of hospitals, schools, and used to combat disease. Workers rights were respected, wages were high, and unionisation skyrocketed.

However the last military dictatorship, many of whose key economists had been trained at the University of Chicago under free-market guru Milton Freidman, not only pushed a policy of political violence but economic as well. The dictatorship dismantled gains made under Perón, as economic minister José Alfredo Martínez de Hoz outlawed strikes, lifted price controls and restrictions on foreign investment and sold off thousands of state enterprises. Prices and poverty rose dramatically and the dictatorship accumulated enormous amounts of debt. As it was losing ground in 1982, the military junta appointed Domingo Cavallo as head of the Central Bank who implemented policies that allowed the country’s top private enterprises to shift billions in debt to the state through secured exchange rates, a process that continued after the dictatorship under Raúl Alfonsín.

“When the government of Isabel Perón was overthrown, the external debt of the country in 1976 was around US$4bn,” says Bruzzone. “When the dictatorship left, the debt had risen to US$40bn.”

Though a self-proclaimed Peronist, Carlos Menem who came to power in 1989 gave the position of economic minister to Domingo Cavallo and other top slots to former employees of the International Monetary Fund (IMF). What followed was a series of billon-dollar IMF loans, the selling off of the majority of state enterprises, and the creation of the Argentine peso that was linked to the dollar, all of which resulted in massive layoffs, a freeze on local industry in the face of expensive production costs and cheap imports, and even more debt.

This free-market frenzy ended in the notorious crash of November and December of 2001, in which recession and unemployment caused investors to pull huge sums of money out of the country and get out of town. The De La Rúa government froze bank accounts of millions of Argentines, who, when finally allowed access, were left with a fraction of their savings. Food riots broke out and on December 19th and 20th a mass of Argentines swarmed Plaza de Mayo demanding that all the politicians who had gotten the country into this mess, leave immediately. De La Rúa was helicoptered from the Casa Rosada to escape the angry crowds. It was clear to many that the state had turned against its people.

“The destruction of the state, not just the welfare state but as an agent of change and intervention in society, was gradual,” says Sabato. “The dictatorship and Menem’s government were key to that destruction.”

Two hundred years later

Which brings us to the Argentina of today, a place where you can eat a five-course meal for US$30 in a trendy restaurant while a family sifts through street garbage nearby.

“We have had poverty in the last few years as never before,” says Sabato. “The distribution of income has been one of the worst in history, and many people have fallen well below the poverty line.” She calls this income gap “one of the worst aspects of Argentine society today”, which she says should be “unacceptable in a country like this”.

Photo by Xomiele
Madres of the Plaza de Mayo protesting the payment of the Argentine Debt

The external debt remains (US$120bn to be exact) and though former president Néstor Kirchner and current president Cristina Fernández de Kirchner had spoken against repaying it, the government since reversed its position and after heated arguments about how to repay the debt earlier this year, Congress voted to do so with reserves from the Central Bank. The question of whether to pay the debt has all but vanished from Congress. This despite a ruling presented by Judge Ballestero in 2000 that found 470 illegitimate financial operations surrounding the debt, calling it “illegal, immoral, illegitimate, and fraudulent”. Congress made no further investigation into the ruling, and according to Bruzzone, “it doesn’t look like they will.”

“This is the debt that every man woman and child of this country pays,” she says, and asserts that there is a much more urgent “internal debt” that must be paid. “The external debt can wait,” Bruzzone claims, “but the internal debt cannot – healthcare, education, and life which is above all else.”

Bruzonne commends the Kirchners for the re-nationalisation of things such as water and pensions, and for leaving behind the neo-liberal economic policies of previous decades, save for one key sector.

“With the issue of natural resources, this government does what all governments have done since 1976 … where the process of selling all our natural resources to foreigners has been consolidating and growing.”

She mentions that 20% of land in Argentina is in the hands of multinational corporations and/or foreign millionaires, and warns that this is “incredibly dangerous” and would put any country “on the brink of territorial disintegration”.

Bruzonne says that her travels and studies have convinced her that “the country that does not exercise its sovereignty fully, truly and effectively over its natural wealth will always be on its knees before the international financial and economic organisms, the transnational corporations, and will never be able to be independent, autonomous and sovereign because the development of those strategic natural resources depends also on the existence of a strong nation.”

Photo by A. Serra
Glacier Perito Moreno

South America has some of the world’s largest fresh water reserves, those in Argentina being also stored in its glaciers. Bruzonne has warned in her research that as the world’s fresh water supplies deteriorate, they will become a strategic resource over which future conflict and wars will be fought, and therefore must be protected. Though Congress passed the Ley de Glaciares in 2007 that restricted mining in glacial areas, the president vetoed the law just a few months later. No measures have yet been taken to protect the country’s fresh water resources.

Argentina’s native forests have suffered similar neglect. According to Greenpeace Argentina, the country has lost 70% of its native forests to deforestation and the Secretary of Environmental and Sustainable Development estimates that between 1998 and 2006, 2.3 million hectares were deforested, or one hectare every two minutes.

After a bitter fight, Congress passed a law in 2007 that limited the cutting of native forests depending on different levels of severity of deforestation. However the implementation of the law has been another story, to be fought out on a provincial level, often pitting small-scale agricultural producers and environmentalists against well-resourced agribusinesses.

Sustainable economics?

But the practice of cutting down native forests and the often forced removal of small-scale local producers has been used to make way for large-scale agricultural enterprises, mostly the planting of transgenic soya, Argentina’s principal export. Each year the country increases its export of soya to places like China and Europe. According to the National Institute of Statistics and Censuses (INDEC), Argentina will export 50 million tonnes of soy in 2010 earning it the title of number one soya exporter in the world.  

Argentine Wheat Harvest

The biggest exporter of soya and other staples in Argentina is Cargill, which leads Forbes top ten private corporations in the US, reporting profits of over US$120bn annually. Cargill also owns the largest soya, wheat, and corn processing plants in Argentina, and is integrated with other top corporations in the country like fertilizer and seed producer Monsanto. Money is clearly being made, but how has it benefitted the people of Argentina?

Soya production is notorious for needing an increasing amount of land yet very few workers. Consumption of soya, as any Argentine supermarket will reveal, is not designated for Argentines but for people and cattle feed abroad. This might be seen as a cruel irony for a the two million Argentines who, according to UBA, go hungry each year, while living in a country with enough fertile land to feed its population multiple times over. Beyond the profits made by a dwindling pool of producers, the best chance Argentines have of seeing any of the benefits of soya production is through the hotly contested 35% government tax which generates an estimated US$5m per year. How this money is distributed and whether it can give back what soya production takes is, of course, another story.

The question then becomes: Is the soya model, reliant on large amounts of land and at the whim of the international price market sustainable for Argentina’s economy and its people? With the ups and downs international finance has seen as of late there is reason to worry.

However some, like Sabato, believe that the fact that Argentina is producing goods required by the world market is a good thing, saying that the country has “a good chance of growing”. She believes that what is done with the growth is the real issue.

“What do you do with the money that pours through this commodity exchange? That’s the problem.” She says that the government often says one thing and does another, talking against soya “without trying to create alternatives for the long run.”

“They’re not doing anything to change the structure,” says Sabato. “There could be state policies devised to re-arrange this economy, without, because it’s an expanding one, restricting investment.” She laments what she calls the “improvised” way the current government handles things like taxes and prices controls and inflation.

“You have to have a plan. You have to have some horizon,” she says.

Big “D” and little “d”

When it comes to democracy, Argentina can be divided into big “D” Democracy of its politicians and the little “d” of its social movements. In terms of the current government and politicians, both Bruzonne and Sabato see little to be proud of.

“Our political world is poor. Not in terms of money. Poor in terms of capacity,” says Sabato. She goes on to discuss the inability of politicians to generate genuine political debate and criticises the “dangerous way” politicians face conflict. Instead of pluralism and diversity, Sabato says current politics centre around “defining and enemy and crushing it relentlessly”.

“This notion of politics, which was very common in Argentina in the second half of the 20th century and until the end of the dictatorship has caused a lot of pain,” she remarks.

In the face of pressing issues like the environment, Bruzonne notes the lack of “political courage” to make change, and directly calls the political classes and leaders “a disaster”.

“They are ignorant and generally very compromised – lots of corruption, lots of bribery … They don’t have a real and true commitment to their people,” she says.

Bruzzone believes politics “must be an act of service” to the country, rather than what she calls a “medium through which one fills their pockets” but “remains screwed to their seats” when decision time comes.

In a time of reflection like the bicentenary, Sabato sees the national government as offering no national agenda, and “doing nothing to reconstruct the state in a solid sense”.

A collection of photos of the Disappeared

Calling herself a survivor of the politically-repressive dictatorship that disappeared thousands young intellectuals, activists, and artists, Bruzzone says the challenge is not only to re-establish the state but “the social fabric” of society.

“We had a military dictatorship that destroyed a generation not for nothing. The generation that was assassinated and disappeared, which I was a part of, was the best of the best, with its dreams, its utopias, and with commitment. That’s what’s now missing in my country.”

Though dismantled during the dictatorship, this little “d” democracy has, however, been resurgent. Social movements of the poor and working-class have fought particularly through the rise of the piquetero movement in the 1990s and since the economic crash of 2001 to be heard and addressed. Their cries have been directed explicitly against the neo-liberal economic policies of privatisation that that have hit the poor and most vulnerable sectors of society the hardest. In response to economic crisis and the lack of social services, many having taken matters into their own hands as unemployed workers movements, community centres, soup kitchens, and recuperated factories have sprung up throughout the country. Bruzonne takes note of these movements, calling them the beginnings of a reconstruction of the “fabric of solidarity,” and the “revalorisation of human values”.

“In Argentina there is a long history of public participation,” observes Sabato. “One of them is the street. Since the 19th century, the street really has been a space for public participation. People go out into the streets and demonstrate.”

Argentina’s politicians may remain silent around key issues but everyday Argentines are certainly not quiet about their discontent.

Second independence

Though Argentina may be 200 years old, national intellectuals like Sabato still find themselves asking questions like: “Are we able to create some common ground upon which to build this society?” With the amount the Argentine people have faced in the country’s 200 years, the question is both apt and deserving of an answer.

Photo by Guilermo
Procession in historic garb marching down 9 de Julio to celebrate the Bicentenary

Bruzzone puts it differently, claiming that in order to confront the country’s challenges, “a second independence remains to be realised.

“Together we liberated ourselves of Spain but then we fell into the hands of the British and then the North Americans, and then into the hands of the multinational corporations and the international financial and economic organisations,” she says.

As the fanfare of the bicentenary fades away, the pressing issues of Argentina remain; those that when addressed will push the country toward an independence that won’t be shown in parades but in the concrete changes in the lives of its citizens.

“It’s our turn to complete the project,” says Bruzzone, “And I think it’s worth completing.”

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Bicentenary Women


President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner

On the 25th May this year, Argentina will celebrate 200 years since the revolution that opened the way to independence from Spain. It is hard to escape the celebrations and parties that are planned or have already got underway, but one exhibition in particular catches the eye. Displayed prominently in the Casa Rosada, the seat of the Argentine government, is a selection of photographs and paintings of people who either played an important part in achieving or establishing independence or, in the past 200 years, have contributed in making Argentina the country it is today.

What is surprising is that they are all women. The exhibition was developed under the direction of Argentina’s first elected female president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner and is a fascinating collection of notable women from Argentine history. Some are well known figures such as Eva Peron and others history has forgotten, but all deserve to be recognised during the bicentenary celebrations for their contributions to Argentine independence.

The paintings and photographs are displayed in the newly established ‘Argentine Bicentenary Hall of Women’ in Casa Rosada. The venue was opened by President Kirchner on 6th March 2010, poignantly also International Women’s Day. President Kirchner commented that she wanted to create a space in a place emblematic of Argentina’s political power (Casa Rosada) that is, “a permanent place for women, a place that we have earned but that is still reluctantly recognised”. The president also said that, “women have featured ever since the birth of the country…even those that may seem to come from more distant grassroots movements, in the end all they wanted was to make a better country”. Twelve women are displayed in the exhibition, including one of the most famous names in Argentine history.

María Eva Duarte de Perón on her wedding day to General Perón

The First Woman of Argentina

Ask any tourist to name a famous Argentine and I would suspect María Eva Duarte de Perón or ‘Evita’ would be one of the first to be mentioned. The second wife of President Juan Perón, she campaigned for labour rights and in particular the suffrage of women in Argentina. In her lifetime she was enormously popular with the working classes, but came up against opposition from the nation’s elite and military. Shortly before her death from cancer in 1952, at the age of 33 she was given the official title of ‘spiritual leader of the nation’ by the Argentine congress and, although she was not an elected head of state, was given a full state funeral. She has now become an international icon, immortalised by the musical and film ‘Evita’, but to many in Argentina today, particularly women, she remains a potent source of political inspiration; not bad for a woman born out of wedlock who lived her early years in relative poverty in rural Argentina.

Not surprisingly Eva Perón has been given an important place in the bicentenary celebrations. On International Women’s Day this year she was declared, by decree, ‘The Woman of South America’. It was announced that in this bicentenary and on a day recognising women around the world it was appropriate to, “honour a historical figure who, in Argentina, represents the image of women in the struggle for their rights.” The Argentine historian Mario O’Donnell commented that she “ran an intensive campaign for every woman in Argentina…to obtain their legitimate political rights”.

The Other Woman

Victoria Ocampo

The life and works of a woman on the other end of the social scale is celebrated alongside her in Casa Rosada. Victoria Ocampo was an intellectual and writer who Jorge Luis Borges described as “the most Argentine woman”. Ocampo was born into a wealthy family in Buenos Aires and educated at home by a French governess. At the age of 17, when Evita had already left home and was working as a struggling actress, Victoria was in Paris with her family attending lectures at the Sorbonne. Victoria was to go on to become the founder and publisher of ‘Sur’, one of the most important literary magazines of its time in Latin America.

The Collective Impact

Evita and Ocampo are two of the most well known women in Argentine history and will rightfully take their place in the bicentenary celebrations, but as Barbara Sutton Argentine Assistant Professor in the Department of Women’s at the University of Albany notes, there are many more women who have devoted their lives to ensure the liberation and of Argentine men and women.

Sutton tells me: “People tend to be more aware of individual personalities such as Evita or Victoria Ocampo, than of the collective impact that the women’s movement, and the feminist movement in particular, has had on the lives of contemporary women in Argentina.”

The Casa Rosada Bicentenary Women

Cecilia Grierson

Cecilia Grierson was the first Argentine woman to become a doctor of medicine. She was sent to school in Buenos Aires and qualified as a teacher, but after a few years of teaching she made the unusual choice of training to become a doctor. This was a challenging decision for a woman in the late nineteenth century in Argentina. She was not the first woman to enter medical school, but was the first woman to be successfully awarded a degree in medicine.

Grierson was highly intelligent and innovative. Whilst studying medicine she introduced the idea of ambulances using an alarm bell (until then this system had only been implemented by the fire brigade), and was one of the first to recognise the need to develop a professional nursing service in Argentine hospitals. She founded the first Argentine nursing school, eventually named the Municipal Nursing School ‘Dr Cecilia Grierson’. Her other achievements include writing a book on massage, in which she pioneered the practice of kinesiology (the science of human movement); created the Argentine First Aid Society and published a book on treatment of accident victims; wrote and taught about the education of children with special needs; founded the National Obstetrics Association and created a journal for midwives. And the list goes on! What is so extraordinary is that on graduating she discovered that it was in fact illegal for her to practice medicine, but this did not stop her.

The struggles that she faced led Grierson to take part in the first feminist groups in Argentina and along with Alicia Moreau de Justo (see below), spoke out about women’s inferior position in society and their exclusion from educational, economic, political and social activities. She founded the Argentine Women’s Council in 1900 and chaired the First International Female Congress in 1910 as part of the events to celebrate the centenary of Argentine independence. She continued to be an active member of Argentine feminist movements until her death in 1934 aged 75.

Alfonsina Storni

Alfonsina Storni was born in Switzerland in 1892 to an Argentine father, but was to become one of the most important Latin American poets of the modernist period. She trained as a primary school teacher, but at the same time wrote for local magazines and in 1911 she moved to Buenos Aires where she had an illegitimate child. Whilst working in a shop she continued to write and started mixing with other writers. She won many awards for her poetry and taught at the Escuela Normal de Lenguas Vivas.

Ill health forced her to leave her job as a teacher, but she continued to write, adopting stronger feminist themes. She once referred to men as ‘the enemy’ and most of her work focused on what she considered to be the repression of women by men. Troubled by a solitary life and suffering from breast cancer, Storni sent her last poem ‘voy a dormir’ to La Nacion newspaper in October 1938 and on 25 October she was found drowned on La Perla beach in Mar del Plata. Her death inspired Ariel Ramírez and Félix Luna to compose the song Alfonsina y el Mar (‘Alfonsina and the sea’), which has been performed by many famous Argentine artists and was immortalised by the Latin American artist Aqunio in many of his paintings.  

Alicia Moreau de Justo

Alicia Moreau de Justo, born in 1885, was a physician, politician, pacifist and human rights activist. She was born to French parents in the United Kingdom, but moved to Argentina when she was young. She initially studied to be a school teacher, but then changed course to become the fourth woman to graduate from an Argentine University as a physicist. She first became active in politics through her connections with the socialist party, but went on to help organise the First International Female Congress in 1910 and founded the National Feminine Union in 1918. In 1945 she published the book, ‘Women in Democracy’, in which she discussed the struggle of Argentine women to obtain the right to vote. In the 1950s she became general secretary of the Socialist Party of Argentina. Throughout her life she was a great supporter of human rights campaigns, in particular the mission of the Madres de Plaza de Mayo. In 1980 she was part of the committee that welcomed the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the Organisation of American States to investigate the human rights crimes of the military government. She died in 1986 aged 99.

Aimé Paine

Aimé Paine was a Mapuche Argentine dedicated to the preservation and dissemination of folk music. She was sent to study in Mar del Plata where she dreamed of becoming a singer. When she was 29-years-old she joined the National Polyphonic Choir and there discovered that music was her true vocation. It was during international gatherings where other countries performed music of their native people, that Paine began to feel frustrated with the lack of interest Argentines had with their musical roots. She dedicated her life to ensuring the music and culture of the Mapuche was known around the world.  

The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo are perhaps, alongside Eva Perón, some of the most internationally well known figures from Argentina. They are an association of women whose children disappeared during the Argentine military dictatorship of 1976-83. For over three decades now they have been campaigning, initially to find their children, and later to discover the truth and get justice for what happened to them. They have become one of the most influential human rights organisations in Argentina. During the dictatorship large gatherings were forbidden by the military, but the mothers got around this law by meeting every Thursday in Plaza de Mayo and walking in pairs around the plaza.

Although three of the founding members also disappeared, the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo avoided persecution as they represented one of the most powerful symbols of Argentine culture: motherhood. During the dictatorship they were one of the only groups of resistance against the military and caught the attention of international media. In 1986, the Mothers association split into two factions. The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo – Founding Line, which focuses on legislation to help recover remains and bringing ex-officials to justice and Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo Association, which is led by Hebe de Bonafini who take a more political and controversial approach.

The activism of the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo inadvertently led them to represent a different element to Argentine feminism; a feminist movement that embraced the values of motherhood. At the same time the implications of their work were embraced by social and human rights movements across the world.

Juana Azurduy de Padilla was born in Bolivia in 1780, but played a critical role in the Argentine fight for independence against the Spanish. She fought under the Argentine general, Martín de Pueyrredón, who elevated her to Lieutenant Coronel and also General Martín Miguel de Güemes. At one time it is believed she commanded an army of 6,000 men and it is said she fought whilst pregnant, returning to battle relatively soon after giving birth. She survived her husband and four sons, dying in relative obscurity and poverty, but is now remembered as an Argentine heroine. In 2009 she was ordained with the rank of general of the Argentine army, in remembrance of all she did for the country. In March this year Azurduy was honoured at a meeting of President Kirchner and President Evo Morales of Bolivia. At the meeting President Kirchner said that Azurduy “represents the thousands and thousands of anonymous men and women, without which the battles for freedom against colonial rule would have been impossible.”

Juana Azurduy de Padilla

Revolutionary Women

Although not displayed in the Casa Rosada exhibition there are many examples of women who were very active during and after the revolution on 25th May 1810. Joining Juana Azurduy de  Padilla were other women who picked up weapons and fought alongside their husbands, fathers and brother, and others who supported the resistance to Spanish or British occupation by other means. Manuela Pedraza Tucumana fought with her husband against the first British invasion of Buenos Aires. Rumour has it that after her husband was killed by a British soldier, she picked up his gun and killed the soldier. Martina Céspedes lived with her three daughters in San Telmo during the second British invasion in 1807. When some solders knocked as her door looking for food and water, she served them alcohol to lower their defences, locked them in a room and took them prisoner. She was later appointed a sergeant major and continued to participate in the wars of independence.

Many women offered their houses as meeting places for solders men who were resisting the Spanish rule. Maria de Todos los Santos Sánchez’s embraced the cause of independence and allowed men such as José de San Martín, Manuel Belgrano and Fray Cayetano Rodriguez to gather and plan their revolutionary activity in her house. Most importantly she wrote down her impressions of everything she saw and heard, providing for future generations, details of what occurred during those revolutionary years.

Another notable woman of the independence movement was Maria Remedios del Valle who like many poor women travelled with and supported her husband wherever he fought. In 1810, along with her husband and children, she joined the army who were fighting in the north under General Belgrano and attended to the wounded on the frontline: she was nicknamed ‘The Captain’. There is a story that years later an elderly women was begging around Plaza de Mayo who called herself ‘The Captain’. One day in 1927 General Jose Viamonte (a hero of independence) recognised her and said: “But this is the mother of the fatherland” (a way of describing the solders who had served on the battlefields).

In Salta a group of women from different backgrounds, formed a spy network and by seducing invading solders; travelling great distances; hiding information in the hems of their skirts or in places where women met, succeeded in getting information to the patriot army.

Women in Argentina Today

After reading about these women, it is hard not to focus on their lives in terms of their contribution to Argentine women’s and feminist movement. Marilyn Mercer in her essay, ‘Feminism in Argentina’ comments, “Although the individual efforts may have seemed small, unrelated, and often ultimately fruitless, when one studies these events and pulls them all together, there is indeed a realisation that much has been accomplished by women in Argentina.”

However, Barbara Sutton tells me: “Women’s movement organisations of different political persuasions, including those with an awareness of gender inequality, have contributed to shape public consciousness, have pressed for legislative changes to improve women’s lives, [and] have held governments accountable to international agreements”. It is also important to view the lives of these women in terms of the bigger picture. These women and many other women whose stories are not told, are an intrinsic part in creating Argentine society as we know it. The Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo (not part of the exhibition at Casa Rosada) may be a group of women brought together to search for their missing grandchildren, but they have also become one of the leading human rights organisations in Argentina.

While women may have not have led armies on the battlefield, they had (and continue to have) their own battles to fight and in the process helped gain rights and freedoms for many in Argentina. The bicentenary is a time to remember and celebrate the past and the present, but also to reflect on the challenges that many still face in Argentina.


Tours of Casa Rosada (Plaza de Mayo) and access to the exhibition are only on Sunday from midday until 6pm, free of charge, but bring some ID. (Opening hours may change so it is advisable to check before going).

There is also an exhibition, Las Mujeres 1810-2010 at Casa Nacional de Bicentenario, Riobamba 985, www.casadelbicentenario.gob.ar. You can visit Tuesday to Sunday (and public holidays) from 2-9pm. Admission is free.

The other women in the Casa Rosada exhibition are:

Mariquita Sánchez de Thompson is famously known for her writings about the failed invasion of the British in 1806 and 1807

Laura Ana Merello was a famous actress, tango dancer and singer, making over 45 films, spanning six decades of Argentine cinema.

Paloma Efron was a journalist, singer, director and theatre and television producer.

Lola Mora born in 1866, was an innovative and controversial sculptor.

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‘Viva South America – A Journey Through a Restless Continent’


Book cover courtesy of Oliver Balch

Oliver Balch arrived in Buenos Aires in 2005 with a plan. Intrigued by the Argentine response to the 2001 economic crisis, he wanted to write a book about the subject whilst also working as a freelance journalist. Although successful as a journalist, his book idea fell on deaf ears: the crisis was old news. Despite this, his publishers were keen on Balch’s proposal for telling the story of modern day Argentina, but instead of focusing on just one country, asked him to look wider. The result was ‘Viva South America! – A Journey Through a Restless Continent’. This vivid and energetic portrayal of South America is neither an historical account of the continent nor a travel book. Rather by revealing the realities of every day life, Balch tells a present day story of liberation – or not, as the case may be.

Balch tells me that the hook by which to hang the story of his travels could have been anything, but one theme stood out to him. “These countries are very diverse; linguistically, historically and racially. However, one thing that they have in common is that they are all former colonies who fought for their independence.” It was the theme of independence that he jumped on.

He continues, “It was the end of 2005 and South America was gearing up to a load of elections in 2006. Hugo Chávez, president of Venezuela was making lots of noise, Mexico and Bolivia had elected left-wing leaders and suddenly people outside of South America were asking why this left-wing movement was happening.”

It was at a rally in Mar del Plata in November 2005 that Balch heard Chávez quote from the Cuban revolutionary poet José Martí. The Venezuelan leader said: “The hour has arrived for the second independence of the peoples of the Americas.” Discovering why exactly South America needed a “second independence” became Balch’s mission for the next few years.

Bolívar as a Guide

South America is a huge continent and deciding which countries to visit and exactly where to go was Balch’s first mission. To provide himself with a rough guide, he decided to frame the book around the life and travels of the great South American hero of independence, Simón Bolívar. Bolívar was born in Venezuela in 1783 and contributed decisively to the independence of Bolivia (one of the few men in the world to have a country named after them), Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Venezuela.

Photo courtesy of Oliver Balch
Oliver Blach in Machu Pichu

Balch told me, “Chávez kept talking about this Bolívar character, he had even re-named Venezuela ‘The Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela’. Here was an interesting character to help frame the story of contemporary South America.” Balch decided to look at what Bolívar and other liberators had fought so hard to achieve. If freedom, equality and liberty were their goals, how had these ideals progressed 200 years later?

Throughout the book Balch provides snippets of information about Bolívar the man and legend. As happens all too often, the facts of his life have become blurred and Balch describes how the myth of Bolívar has been adapted and used throughout South America to serve many different purposes. The use of Bolívar’s life and legend is an excellent way to frame the narrative of the book. Bolívar was preoccupied and determined to liberate the continent, however he concluded at the end of his life that his vision of a federation of South American republics was an impossible dream and even stated that the “only thing to do in America is emigrate”, and that the South American continent would become so corrupt that “the Europeans won’t bother to conquer us”.

Bolívar’s mission and subsequent disillusionment is a an uncanny parallel to the reality that Balch discovers. He says, “In 2005 It seemed to me that the left-wing populist leaders who were popping up all over South America, were tapping into a universal feeling that these dreams and promises of liberation were unfulfilled.”

Stories From the Street

Balch could have based his book on interviews and statements from the numerous political, social and economic protagonists of South America. There is no shortage of material from the likes of Chávez as to whether or not South America had achieved liberation. However, Balch took, in my opinion, a more subtle approach which resulted in a much more powerful vision of the supposed liberation of the continent: he spoke to the people on the street.

Photo Courtesy of Oliver Balch
Balch and Che

To discover whether women are now truly liberated, he spoke to women who were victims of domestic violence in Chile; to understand the issue of race in South America he spoke to indigenous groups in Ecuador and Paraguay and so on. The result is a unique and powerful collection of stories that would never normally be heard. He has, in some cases, given a voice to a segment of South America who are normally ignored. Balch tells me that sometimes he had a plan of who he wanted to speak to, but often the most powerful and revelatory statements came from people he happened upon by chance. He says, “I tried to follow my nose and find some people who had something interesting to say. It took me to places I never thought I’d go.”

Balch certainly appears to have a knack for getting people to open up to him. On many occasions people who had suffered great trauma and distress in their lives were happy to recount their painful memories to him. Some were used to speaking to the media: such as a woman he met in Chile who is HIV positive and had actively chosen to speak out about her situation in order to break taboos. However, others had never spoken to anyone about their experiences, let alone a foreign journalist.

The one story that was particularly hard-hitting was of Álvaro in Colombia. Balch had just arrived in Bogotá and met Álvaro on the steps of a church. Both were strangers to the city, but Álvaro’s tale is one of violence and loss. His is a harrowing account of how Colombia, although claiming to have shaken off the shackles of its violent past, still suffers from great displacement of its peoples and now has the second largest group of internal refugees in the world. Álvaro’s frankness and honesty is startling and his story is one I will never forget.

Balch expertly and succinctly gives you enough background information to understand the magnitude of the realities that he discovers, while not getting bogged down with too many facts and stats. For someone travelling around South America, or someone who simply has a thirst to know more about the state of the continent, this book is a fascinating read. ‘Viva South America!’ isn’t a guide book, or a definitive history of South America, but if you want to understand the reality of life and gain a glimmer of what is happening behind closed doors, then this is the book for you.

Balch said: “It won’t answer all your questions by any means, but might give you a flavour for asking your own questions. Essentially I was a backpacker with a press card, there’s nothing stopping people from walking up and chatting to people on the streets as they travel.”

It is not just the stories of the people Balch meets that make this such a compulsive read, but also the detailed descriptions of their appearances. One encounter that I found exceptionally expressive was a dance in a town square in Brazil. Not only does Balch provide the context for his stories and address compelling issues such as race, sex and poverty, but he touches on the lighter sides of life in South America. He writes, “…I watch in awe at the sight of so many rhythmic bodies hypnotised by the forró beat. Closest to me, a late-middle-aged couple is lost in a feverish, hip-shaking embrace. The woman’s thin, blue slip is stained with sweat, revealing a bulky pair of underpants and generous rolls of fat underneath. Her short, slim-built husband couldn’t care less. The transforming power of the music has made a spellbinding temptress of his humdrum wife.” He makes you want to be there!

Photo courtesy of Oliver Balch
Houses on the hillside of El Alto – La Paz, Bolivia

Next Steps

‘Viva South America’ is currently only available in English, but will soon be published in Spanish. I was curious about what Balch felt a South American would make of him writing about their country. He tells me, “I realise I might be open to the charge of, ‘who are you to tell me about what’s going on in my country’ and with that in mind I tried not to make too many judgements about what I heard and saw and want to let people make up their own mind.”

Balch has now left Argentina for India where he is researching his next book, but he looks back fondly to the years he spent in Buenos Aires, where his book first began to take shape. The chapter in the book on Argentina begins on the eve of Cristina Fernández de Kirchner’s election to president, at the height of her popularity. Now, as the book is published in Spanish, Kirchner is fighting to stay in power in Argentina and many of the countries who had embraced the ‘pink tide’ of left-wing politics, such as Chile, are swinging to the right. Despite this change in political persuasion, Balch’s book is still pertinent, “The book might be a little out of date [the section on Chile is being updated for the Spanish language version], but the stories will be relevant for years to come. The undercurrent of feeling– these things don’t change.”

In Argentina ‘Viva South America!’ can be purchased from five KEL bookstores in Buenos Aires www.kel-ediciones.com/html/locales/default.asp. A Spanish language edition will be available in Argentina from May 2010 (provisional date).

More information on Oliver Balch can be found www.vivasouthamerica.com

For more information on Buenos Aires Feria Internacional del Libro, at La Rural in Palermo from 22nd April-10th May, visit www.el-libro.org.ar

Posted in ExpatComments (0)

Fix Up, Look Sharp: Suits and Ties in BA Museums


In Buenos Aires, a city famous for both its style and its Italian heritage, you don’t have to look very far to find a beautiful suit. But if you want to take your interest in tailoring further than just admiring shop windows as you walk down Santa Fe, there are now two exhibitions than will cater to your needs. These are ‘Nodi Italiani: Corbatas con Historia’, a visiting show from Italy about the history of the tie, and the permanent collection at the Museo Nacional de la Historia del Traje, which looks at the development of fashion in Buenos Aires since the 19th century.

Photo by Rosalie Smith

Why go to a museum about suits and ties when you see them every day walking down the street? Well, both of exhibitions will tell you things about sharp dressing that you never knew before, such as how many different ways there are to tie a tie (85, according to a Cambridge University research group) or who the first person was to wear a white wedding dress (Mary Queen of Scots, apparently). More importantly, the shows are put together in a way that is thoughtful and interesting, and the clothes on display range from beautiful to hilarious. So suit up! And get down there.

Tie me up, tie me down

Nodi Italiani: Corbatas con Historia, is a temporary exhibition on at the Museo Nacional de Arte Decorativo in Recoleta, created by the Rome-based cultural association ‘Colosseum’. As you would expect of anything to do with Italians and fashion, it is beautifully put together. What’s more, it’s informative and will teach you everything there is to know about the historical, social and artistic dimensions of a tie.


Photos by Rosalie Smith

The first part of the exhibition focuses on the history of the ties, showing images of the first ancestors of the cravat, worn by Chinese soldiers in the 3rd Century BC and later by imperial soldiers in Rome. The labels then describe how ties were first made popular in Europe in the modern period by Croatian mercenaries who fought in France during the 30 Years War (the word “cravat” and the Spanish “corbata” comes from the French for ‘Croatian’) After this you can see how the shape, colour, pattern and social significance of ties varied hugely over time, from cravats worn by Louis XIV of France as part of elaborate costumes showing his great wealth and power, to red ties worn by revolutionaries in the 18th Century as a sign of rebellion.

Some of the ties on display really are beautiful. In the first room you can see a range of cravats worn in Europe during the 17th and 18th centuries and one in particular (black, silky and tied asymmetrically) is a work of art. Later you are shown modern ties from all the major labels, including Christian Lacroix, Karl Lagerfeld and Hermés. You also see how, over time, ties get wider and slimmer, longer and shorter, plainer and more colourful. As the exhibition goes on you also find ties that are not only attractive, but also plain bizarre. Among the collection is both a plastic biodegradable tie, for the eco-friendly fashion victim, and a hypoallergenic one, for those with sensitive skin.

One of the most interesting parts of the exhibition is the display of pictures of famous figures from history wearing neckties. From Ghandi, who stopped wearing suits and ties as part of the break with British imperialism, to Fred Flintstone, who wears a sort of tie as a parody of the typical US dad coming home from the office, ties have all sorts of cultural and social implications. Seeing the different neckwear of Ludwig van Beethoven, Charlie Chaplain and Malcolm X does makes you think about the different things you can imply by something as trivial as knotting a piece of cloth around your neck.

Altogether, although you might not end the exhibition agreeing with Oscar Wilde that “a well-tied tie is the first serious step in life”, the display will certainly give you a new respect for neckwear.

One important note before you go though: all of the information is in Italian with Spanish translations, so if your Spanish is not that strong it’s worth going with someone who can help you translate.

Suit up!



Photos by Hannah Vinter

The Museo Nacional de la Historia del Traje is located in a beautiful late 19th century mansion in San Telmo. Its name is actually somewhat misleading for English speakers, because the exhibition is not just about suits, but about all sorts of clothes (Something I didn’t realise before: ‘Traje’ actually doesn’t just mean ‘suit’ but also ‘costume’ or ‘outfit’) The items on display are both for men and women, starting in the late 18th Century and going up to the present day. The exhibition takes a historical perspective, and examines how fashion developed over time, and how these changes related to contemporary social movements. The majority of the clothes on display date from between 1850 and 1950, and from ridiculous Gone-With-The-Wind style hoop skirts, right through to flapper dresses, many of the items are quite beautiful.

The exhibition starts at the beginning of Argentine colonial history, with one or two pictures of early settlers from the 16th century and a little information about society at the time. The earliest actual item of clothing on display dates from 1780, and is followed by a few other examples of late 18th and early 19th century fashion. There are pictures on the wall of men and women wearing formal dress, and one of the best things about the images is how grim the women look. In the next room, where all the elaborate dresses are presented elegantly, you have the impression that the people who wore them must have looked like fairytale princesses, but when you see the portraits of contemporary women, many of them are terrifyingly stern.

In the next two rooms you see the development of fashion over time, and the information explains how it was related to changes in society. Thus you are shown decadent pieces with huge bustles, complicated corseting and lace from the affluent 19th century. Then, in the period after the First World War, when women began to work outside the home and strict rules about feminine behaviour began to be relaxed, the dresses became shorter and looser to express new female freedom. After this you see examples of Christian Dior’s ‘New Look’ from after World War II, when European designers went back to using masses of fabric and creating decadent outfits as a reaction against the austerity of the war.

One of the best rooms is about male sportswear from the early 20th century, and it features some outfits that verge on the ridiculous. Among other things, you can see a boxer wearing a ludicrously tiny pair of shorts, and a full leather aviator’s outfit complete with goggles.

All of the clothes are displayed with other objects that are meant to give you an idea of the cultural and historical context in which they would have originally been worn. So, in the first room, which shows fashions from the 19th century, you can also see furniture and artwork from the same period. What’s more, the museum plays music in many of the galleries to complement the display, and to give you a more complete of the society that produced the fashions you are looking at. The building itself, which was started in the second half of the 19th century, and had the its finishing touches completed in 1907, complements the clothes and the overall effect is like looking into a life-sized Victorian doll’s house.

Like the corbata exhibition, all the labels and historical information here are in Spanish. However, if you ask at the front desk they have English translations of the text printed out in a book, which you can carry round as you go through the exhibition. The museum is actually rather small, but it’s also free, so it’s a good place to pop into for half an hour if you’re exploring San Telmo.

All in all, if you like fashion and you need somewhere to go on a rainy autumn afternoon, then these are two museums worth visiting. There are clothes here that would make Barney Stinson weep with joy.

Nodi Italiani: Corabtas con Historia is on until the 18th April at the Museo Nacional de Arte Decorativo, Av.del Libertador 1902. The museum is open from 2-7pm, Tuesday – Sunday. Tickets cost $5 and entrance is free on Tuesday. See the website for details: www.mnad.org.ar

El Mueso Nacional del Traje is on Chile 832. Entrance is free and the museum is open from 3–7pm. See the website for more information: www.funmuseodeltraje.com.ar

Posted in Fashion, The CultureComments (0)

Manzana De Las Luces Tour


Photo by Jesse Kraft

For those who have a little Spanish language knowledge Manzana de Las Luces is certainly an intriguing tour destination, conjuring up images of particularly shiny apples – for me at least! I was assured, however, that a visit to this square in between Perú and Bolívar 200 – whose name literally translates as ‘block of lights’ – is worthwhile to broaden your knowledge of Buenos Aires’ history and to explore the city’s legendary hidden passages.

The tour begins in the rental houses built on the request of Viceroy Juan José de Vértiz in 1783. Our guide launched abruptly into the history of the building without ensuring that everyone had received the information sheet, which is available in English. This caused some anxiety for non Spanish speakers as one lady angrily requested that we, at least, be told the names of the different places covered in English. The tour company makes it clear that visits are in Spanish, though an English speaking guide can be reserved a week or more in advance.

We moved swiftly into the Mercado de Las Luces, where our guide had requested we resist the temptation to lose ourselves amongst the merchandise. While the market is set in an impressive, white washed hall, it trades more on its atmospheric location than the standard fare on offer.

Next up was the Hall of Representatives, completed in 1821 by French architect, Próspero Catelin. This room has witnessed many important political moments in Argentine history, including Bernadino Rivadavia being sworn in as the first president of the United Provinces of Río de la Plata.

Some vocabulary confusion led me to believe that the politicians who used the chamber were troubled by a giant spider lurking in the ceiling. Our attention was, rather, being directed towards the majestic glass chandelier that used to illuminate the debates and meetings held there.

Photo by Jesse Kraft

After being regaled with the details of a failed murder attempt against the life of former Buenos Aires governor Juan Manuel de Rosas, delivered with particular ‘who done it’ gusto by our guide, we visited the Manzana de las Luces courtyard. This area has served many different functions over the years, including as a pharmacy, which was organised and equipped by famed Irish priest Thomas Faulkner, and as a centre of commerce for products bought by indigenous people from the Jesuit organised ‘Missions’ in the north of the country.

Finally we entered the (highly anticipated) underground tunnels. At this point, our guide ensured that everyone who had not paid the entrance fee handed over the cash perhaps because, as a friend pointed out, there was now no escape!

I admit to being slightly disappointed as only a very small section of one of the tunnels is open to the public; many of them remain unexplored. It was interesting to hear about their probable uses, however. These included confusing British soldiers who attacked Buenos Aires twice in the early 1800s, by allowing those defending the city to disappear without a trace. 

Photo by Jesse Kraft

After the tour, our guide kindly repeated her explanation behind the name Manzana de las Luces to me (you’ll have to go to find out!) and provided the English information sheet, which contains many of the most interesting tour details.

While the tunnels were not as breathtaking as I had anticipated, a visit to this square, the centre of four centuries of fascinating history, is a must. It remains a great cultural reference point, having been a Jesuit residence, centre of commerce, school and home to the National General Archives and the National Library, amongst other functions. I was sufficiently intrigued by all I had learnt to pop round the corner to see the San Ignacio church, another cultural landmark, built for the Jesuits in 1662.

My only advice would be to organise to have an English guide if your Spanish isn’t great, as it is a challenge to keep up with a tour that sprints through 400 years of key historical moments.


The Tour of the Viceroy’s houses, Hall of Representatives and the tunnels leave from Perú 272, cost $5 and take place every week day at 3pm. They also happen on Saturdays at 3pm and 6pm and on Sundays at 6pm. An alternative tour of Manzana de las Luces from the outside is available on Saturdays at 4.30pm and on Sundays at 3pm and 4.30pm.

For more information about Manzana de las Luces call 4342 3964, or visit the website: www.manzanadelasluces.gov.ar

Posted in The City, The Tourist, Travel ReviewComments (0)

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