Victory or defeat: Presidential candidate Javier Milei has already done Argentine society a valuable service by forcing us to question how election campaigns are financed. Because one dimension is the official reality, the one that is explained on paper, and a completely different one is the real reality. Or, according to the range of dollar prices we have, blue funding. And that goes for everyone who dreams of Casa Rosada. Sean Sergio Massa, Milei herself, Patricia Bullrich or Horacio Rodríguez Larreta.
Milei addressed the situation out of necessity, not because she wanted to. He reacted because it turned out that he had set up a system of “voting rights”. In other words, those who want to run for elective office in their area must pay a dollar fee to retain their candidacy. Of course, payment in installments is possible.
The franchise system, to call it something, has some caveats. For example, if the person is well known and gets votes on their own merits. In this case, you don’t have to hand Milei operators an envelope or a briefcase full of dollars. But the rest – whether they dream of being councillors, mayors, provincial legislators and even governors or national MPs – have to make a green contribution. If possible, big face.
The payment for the application has its purpose. Who pays sees it as an expense or an investment that they more than amortise in public service? If so, how are they going to recoup that investment, which in some cases exceeds $40,000 when public sector salaries are so low? Are you betting on corruption? Or do we stand before men and women willing to sacrifice their personal savings for the common good?
In the book How Democracies Die, two Harvard professors – Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt – reveal another risk. They stress that one of the functions of political parties is, or should be, to promote the promotion of the best among them and prevent the worst from coming to power. However, this filter disappears when the only requirement is $100 bills. This can happen, for example, when a criminal clan or a drug lord pays for the maintenance of all applications in his area of business. Does it ring often? The National Electoral Chamber warned of this danger two months ago.
Far from giving in to the controversy, however, Milei doubled down. He denounced that he was facing “the biggest smear campaign in Argentine history” and that journalists and many others had double standards against him. Because his candidates paid for the election campaign with their savings, he accused his candidates of crossing the line between business people and drug dealers or diverting public funds.
In doing so, Milei rendered a service to the community. It has been an open secret for three decades that a presidential campaign in Argentina costs $100 million, although that figure can vary wildly in each election cycle. It is not the same as competing in times of fat cows or thin cows, a high dollar or flat dollar, fewer or many candidates, or times when polls show, among other factors, neck-and-neck races or significant inequality.
But even assuming that a presidential campaign costs less than a tenth of that magic sum this year, the state’s statutory contributions will cover only part of each candidate’s actual expenses. How will they solve the rest? We’ve also known for years that those in public service drink from the state’s faucet by diverting funds or using state resources, such as the provincial “sanitary planes” that actually pick up and bring in governors and candidates. It is so well known that political scientists consider it one of the facets of the so-called pitched court. I invite the reader to check Google to make sure this isn’t something new.
In addition, both public and private sector candidates are knocking on the doors of large, medium and small businessmen providing cash and in-kind contributions. As? For example, they solve the surveys that candidates need, even though they appear on their company’s balance sheets as commercial market studies. Or they lend their private planes. Or they take over the hotel costs of the campaign teams. Or they supply entire fleets of phones or cars. Or they are responsible for the supply of the missionary files. The examples are endless.
All this very rarely comes to light. Often due to mistakes or setbacks. For example, there was the so-called Cuadernos action, with dozens of businessmen who recounted how they transferred sacks of dollars, euros, or pesos to Kirchnerist speakers, either in exchange for bribes or as “campaign donations.” Nothing new. In 2007, the same thing happened to the speakers of the “drug mafia”. And we also had Juntos por el Cambio, which went to hundreds and hundreds of social plan beneficiaries in 2017 in a shameful attempt to launder fortunes accumulated in the dark.
Of course, these practices and deviations are not unique to Argentina. There are many examples in Latin America and around the world. We have Brazilian, Peruvian and other countries in the hemisphere parading in court for receiving illegal money from Odebrecht for their campaigns. Or former French President Nicolás Sarkozy, who was sentenced to a year in prison for illegally financing his 2012 election campaign. Or Donald Trump’s former personal attorney, Michael Cohen, who pleaded guilty to election crimes.
The fact that all of this – and more – is true, known and shared among Argentine politicians and around the world does not absolve Milei or his rivals from responsibility or blame this year. It should keep them from falling into the same vices, but to expect that would be naïve. More importantly, it should prompt us, the citizens of Argentina and other countries, to call for electoral reforms that impose real sanctions on candidates who violate these laws, as well as full oversight and their effective application.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.
Subscribe to the EL PAÍS America newsletter here and receive the latest news from the region.