Martin Elfman
A few weeks ago, during the presentation of Feeling it a lot, the documentary about the last fifteen years of his life, Joaquín Sabina made some statements that upset more than one. The singer-songwriter, who had by then been an icon of the left, said he no longer felt so comfortable among the ranks of his former comrades. For various reasons, but above all for one: the drifting of the Latin American left. “I have eyes and ears and a head to see what’s happening and it’s very sad what’s happening,” he said. He was, of course, referring to the insane transformation of Daniel Ortega’s regime into a copy of the most pathetic and insane somocism, to Cuba’s boring stagnation in a musty corner of the 20th century, and to the criminal stupidity that destroys Venezuela every day. However, what would you have said if asked about the left turn Lula made with his recent victory in Brazil’s elections?
That question would have gotten Sabina in trouble, because it’s not even clear that Latin America is turning left, as they say. If you look closely, the last election shows that voters are punishing the ruling party, not the right. The pandemic-triggered crisis of political legitimacy, fueled by inflation, organized crime and the inability of barely growing Latin American economies to meet citizens’ expectations, come together with discontent promising a cut price tantalizingly past. What seems to be rolling over Latin America is more than a pink wave, it is a tsunami of discontent. Citizens want change, and that’s what the politicians who are now in power have offered.
It is true that this change was driven by elections under the banners of progressivism and the left, but we should not assume that it is a homogeneous movement led by politicians who share the same goals and ideals. Absolutely. What do they have in common, for example an environmentalist trying to lead a global crusade against hydrocarbons and climate change like Petro, and a developer aiming to boost state oil company Pemex and cross the Strait on a train? Yucatan Peninsula, like López Obrador? If we look closely at them, we find a very diverse spectrum of trajectories and proposals.
Petro and AMLO come from the Latin American populist tradition, which sees the leader as a demiurge who creates and directs the crowd with the power of his word. The difference is that the Colombian has a pragmatic firewall that allows him to forge alliances with his political opponents, even the extreme right, while the Mexican seeks confrontation with his opponents. Their styles of government are very different. The first seeks the pact within the institutions; the second guarantees the stability of its government with direct subsidies. Another notable difference is that Petro supports women and has a human rights defender at the helm of defense while AMLO is at odds with the feminist movement and gives the military a huge role in public life.
The differences are accentuated when comparing these two presidents to Pedro Castillo. The Peruvian came to power, backed by an extremist party, Peru Libre, founded by a doctor who was trained in Cuba not only in his specialty, neurosurgery, but also in defiance of democracy. The panic evoked by his triumph gradually subsided as Peru descended into chaos and mismanagement, and Castillo proved not a staunch communist but a complete incompetent. His left was petrified in bombastic rhetoric and vernacular symbolism, and soon faded amid corruption scandals involving his close family circle.
Chilean Boric seems to be Petro’s closest politician; Like him, he came to power supported by the social movements participating in the social outburst and by a new non-coalitionist left that emphasized the identity agenda and the youth’s break with the past. What is new about Boric, aside from his attempts to rebuild Chile with a new constitution, is that he is defending an uncomfortable cause for the Latin American left. While Petro or Lula prefers to tiptoe about human rights abuses in Venezuela, Nicaragua and Cuba, Boric has calloused feet. The Chilean president openly criticizes authoritarian excesses, and for this reason it is easier for him to sit with Sabina and drink tequila than for Ortega, Maduro or Díaz-Canel to offer him the fraternal treatment of a comrade.
Albero Fernández comes from the more traditional wing of Peronism, but has as an uncomfortable dance partner Cristina Kirchner, expert in the art of symbolism and storytelling and representative of the left-most industry. In the midst of this difficult life together – sometimes she seems to be in charge, sometimes he – Kirchner is threatened with a corruption trial and Fernández with the economic crisis. All their government efforts aim to reverse the tide of Latin American discontent, lest it sweep through them in the next elections. The internal conflict, plus the nationalism that Peronism is phasing out, isolates Argentina from other Latin American governments.
The same applies to Bolivia and its President Luis Arce. His militant indigenousism, laced with anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist slogans, lost its seductive appeal when it became the rock that Boric stumbled upon. Since then, the paths that could ideologically unite Chile and Bolivia have drifted away, and it is unlikely that another Latin American government will re-enthusiast Bolivia’s multinational model.
As can be seen, the arc of the Latin American left is much wider than it appears. Its representatives do not share the same goal or project, and the internal problems they face are so varied and specific that they end up captivating them. So what do they have in common? Basically, they all declare themselves enemies of neoliberalism and worry about economic inequalities. With the exception of Boric, there is a hint of a more or less strong nationalism, and with the exception of AMLO, all have an interest in social movements and identity politics.
That would also be a good question for Sabina, why does the left stop being libertarian and hedonistic, as it expanded the scope of freedom in the second half of the 20th century? The answer, if any, would explain one of the most remarkable ideological shifts of our time, not just in Latin America but throughout the West.
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