Argentina en el cuarto oscuro

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Presidential Elections in Argentina: Neighborhood Assemblies Respond By Carolyn Sattin

Photo: Carolyn Sattin

Argentina's highly-contested presidential race will finally be decided on May 18, when the public returns to the polls for a second round runoff between Carlos Menem, a right-leaning advocate of neo-liberal economic policies who finished with 23.9% of the vote and Néstor Kirchner, an anti-Menem Peronist "reformist" who followed with 21.8% and vows to expand social programs and promote national industry over international markets if elected.
On Sunday, April 27, Argentines voted in national elections for the first time since before December 20, 2001 when President Fernando De la Rúa was forced to escape from the Casa Rosada by helicopter amid massive public protests in response to the country's state of crisis. Last Sunday's ballot included nearly 20 candidates, ranging from veterans of the military dictatorship on the extreme right, to members of the Communist Party on the far left, and until the polls closed at 6pm on Sunday, no one was certain which two politicians would continue on to the second round.

Of the 18 candidates on the ballot, five were considered serious contenders, and at some point during the campaign period, each one was in the lead in at least one of the half-dozen or so main polls. Three of these candidates, Kirchner, Menem and Adolfo Rodriguez Sáa came from the highly-divided Peronist Party, a historically dominant party that was seriously damaged by its inability to agree on one candidate to represent them in these presidential elections. The remaining two candidates, Ricardo López Murphy and Elisa Carrió, who came in third and fourth respectively, were both former members of the Radical Party, the Peronists' traditional historical rival, that has virtually disappeared from the political scene since De la Rúa's demise

Ricardo López Murphy and Elisa Carrió each founded their own party, Federal Recreate Movement and Alternative for a Republic of Equals respectively, in an attempt to differentiate themselves from the "same corrupt politicians" that the Argentine public constantly criticizes: a public that has become highly skeptical of any politician's promises after years of widespread political corruptions and De la Rùa's severely disappointing performance during his two plus years in office. The surprisingly strong showing of both of these "alternative" candidates demonstrates a new trend in Argentine politics, shifting away from the classic two party dispute between the Peronists and Radicals that has dominated Argentina's political history throughout most of the Twentieth Century.

The first-round of elections surprised many political pundits and citizens, not because of the victors, but instead due to the unexpectedly large voter turnout. According to national law, voting is mandatory for all Argentine citizens 18 years and older who are within 500 kilometers of their voting district on Election Day. Failure to do so carries a potentially heavy fine of up to $500 pesos and bars a citizen for holding public office for three years. However, prior to these elections a number of polls projected greater than 40% abstention (a figure that includes boycotting the elections, destroying the ballot or casting a blank vote) because of widespread voter apathy. In addition, the last major national elections that occurred in Argentina before the explosion of December 19/20, 2001 took place on October 14, 2001 and saw a record-breaking low level of voter turnout.

When former President De la Rua's party "la Alianza," formed as an alliance between the Radical party and Frepaso, a smaller, less prominent party lost control of Congress to the opposition Peronist party known as "Partido Justicialista," over 40% of the eligible voting public did not go to the polls or nullified their ballot inside the voting booth, demonstrating the public's lack of faith in their so-called "representative democracy."

Photos: Mariano Tealdi

The fledgling neighborhood assembly movement, which grew out of the first spontaneous outburst of collective action on December 19 and 20, 2001 when massive "cacerolazos" (banging of pots and pans in the streets) erupted in cities and towns throughout Argentina to protest President De la Rua's declaration of a "state of siege" and demand his resignation, was highly disappointed with the outcome of these elections. For many asambleistas, it seems that their nation, ravaged by an economic crisis that has left more than half of its 37 million people living below the poverty line and greater than 20% unemployment, appears to be doomed to a future of corrupt politicians playing the same dirty game.

The neighborhood assemblies, which developed after the extraordinary evening of December 19th, have created a new space for debate and construction of alternatives in the face of the bleak possibilities on the political front. These groups of neighbors, many of whom had lived next door to each other for years as strangers in silence, found themselves gathered in centralized locations in their neighborhoods that first unforgettable night, pulled out of their homes by the necessity to do something in the midst of the economic and political crisis that was destroying the cultural and social fabrics of their country. There, in the middle of the street, in plazas and parks, they began to share and discuss common problems, debate ideas, and listen to each other for the first time. This randomly assembled mélange of neighbors: women, men, and children of all ages, backgrounds and experiences soon realized that together, as an organized whole, they formed a powerful force that could work to reclaim the centrality of the "pueblo argentino" in determining their devastated nation's fate.

Most of the neighborhood assemblies, which are concentrated in the capital city, were formed with a commitment to gender equality and horizontality, and, without formal leadership positions or designated roles; they have been able to function with surprising efficiency and equity. Since last year's explosion of activism, many people who had never been active in social or political movements, particularly middle-class women who for years had been trapped inside their homes by the often-suffocating responsibilities of being a wife and mother in Argentina, have been finding their political voice. Serving as an essential outlet for both incipient and veteran activists, the neighborhood assemblies provide a space where people can freely express themselves and take political action.

Over the past sixteen months, the number and size of the assemblies across the country have significantly decreased, with many initial participants losing interest or being turned off by political parties' co-opting of these supposedly non-partisan spaces. Some people take the lower-visibility of the assemblies and their smaller numbers as a sign of a weakened movement and predict that the assemblies will not be around for much longer. Similar to the struggling nation's unpredictable future, what is in store for the neighborhood assembly movement is still unknown. However, the asambleists who remained have demonstrated a remarkable commitment to their fight and hold firmly to their belief that by working for change over time they will achieve their goals for a renewed Argentina in the long run.

Efforts within the movement to coordinate voting were impaired by internal conflicts, inability to reach compromises, and political parties' attempts to manipulate the assemblies and control their actions. Since assemblies were unable to agree on one universal strategy for the elections, a number of collective actions have been proposed. One assembly in particular, Asamblea del Cid Campeador, located in the lively, residential, middle-class neighborhood of Caballito led the way in an effort to organize an active boycott of what many people believed to be illegitimate elections. They developed creative ways to get their message out in the weeks prior to the much anticipated April 27 election date: hosting frequent speakers and debates in the abandoned bank-turned-community center than has become the assembly's home, having an open air radio program each week in a nearby park, organizing numerous outreach activities, street festivals, and publicity campaigns with flyers posted across the city all in hopes of raising the public's awareness and spreading the word that if everyone protests these elections, new alternatives on the dismal political front would be forced to emerge and the people would finally be in control of directing the course of their nation's future. In the short term, this "active boycott camp" hoped to make a public demonstration of its opposition to this election and manifest its belief in direct democracy by rejecting the traditional form of representative democracy that has failed to represent the people of Argentina for over ten years.

Photo: Carolyn Sattin

Other neighborhood assemblies printed their own ballot with the letters QSVT on the front representing the ubiquitous phrase, "Que se vayan todos" (that every one of them [the politicians] goes, not even one stays)- a motto that emerged from the original mobilizations on December 19th and 20th and has turned into a rallying cry for the movement ever since. Those people promoting the QSVT ballot were hoping to offer an alternative that satisfied the civic obligation of voting but also served to illustrate their rejection of all of the candidates on the ballot.
In addition, many assemblies were advocating the use of traditional forms of public rejection at the voting booth: destroying the ballot or depositing a blank vote. These two options were widely employed in the October 2001 congressional elections. Ant-election activists were hoping that the percentage of abstentions would be substantial enough to show the politicians, and the world at large that the candidate who was elected only had a minority of public support.

In the end, the situation did not unfold as many of the neighborhood assemblies had hoped. This first round of elections saw an 80% voter turnout, one of the highest in Argentina's history and almost rivaling the figure from 1983 when democratic elections were called for the first time the repressive military dictatorship was toppled. In addition, the percentage of "voto bronca" or "anger vote" (including blank or destroyed ballot) barely reached three percent of the total tally. However, since no candidate was able to win 45 percent of the vote or get 40 percent and have a 10-point margin over the closest competitor, a second round runoff was required. This is the first time in Argentina's history that a second round is needed to decide presidential elections: a reflection of the public's dissatisfaction with the limited options on the political front.

Experts are expecting the same or greater numbers of voters for the second round, and assemblies have begun to debate their strategies for the May 18 date. Although neither candidate is acceptable to the assembly members, Nèstor Kirchner is universally preferred over Carlos Menem, who many people hold responsible for destroying the country's economy through his and then- Finance Minister Domingo Cavallo's institution of an unrealistic convertibility that pegged one peso to one U.S. dollar and a privatization frenzy that virtually eliminated all State-owned companies. As a result of this deep-seeded hatred of Menem, some of the people who were fervently against voting in the first round are considering voting in the second for fear that he could win. Carlos, a construction worker in his mid-thirties and an active member of the Asamblea del Cid Campeador explained: "If Menem were to win, I couldn't live in this country anymore. It would be a total embarrassment and too shameful. Do people who vote for him have any memory at all? Does Argentina have a collective memory, voting for the many who destroyed her?"
Initial polls indicate that Menem's second round chances against Kirchner are slim, but during the next three weeks, which are expected to be filled with publicity blitzes and substantial mud-slinging between the two remaining candidates, anything can happen.

In the end, the assemblies have decided to view these elections as just another part of their difficult growth process. They understand that the construction of any large-scale popular movement is an arduous experience. In the face of increasing challenges, people have not given up their fight. Instead, they continue to struggle, from within the assembly space and outside as well, to extend solidarity networks, encourage the increased participation of neighbors who have not yet gotten on board, and work to develop a strong popular base so that in four years, when the next presidential elections are held, the political panorama will finally represent the Argentine public's interests.

Photos: Carolyn Sattin

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