Rolando Andrade/AFP-Getty Images
Protesting Prices: Farmers and their supporters demonstrate against the Government for raising export tariffs on soybean products in Rosario, Santa Fe province

By Brian Byrnes

In Argentina, history tends to repeat itself. Every decade or so, the country implodes in crisis: coup d’etats, dictatorships, hyperinflation, devaluation, crime--all trademarks of Argentina’s self-fulfilling prophecy of repeated and gross governmental failure.
 
The wounds of the 2001 economic collapse--popularly blamed on outside forces like the International Monetary Fund and Wall Street--have just barely healed, but Argentina once again looks to be on track for a meltdown, and this time it could be sparked by a showdown on the Pampas.
 
A conflict between the fledgling government of President Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner and Argentina’s influential farming sector over export taxes on commodities has dragged on since mid-March, and decimated the presidenta’s popularity. According to a poll released on May 22 by Poliarquia Consultores, Kirchner’s approval rating sank to 26 percent this month, down from 56 percent in January. This sharp decline was precipitated by the government’s inability to resolve the export-tax stalemate, but it has been deepened by the openly hostile stance that Cristina has taken with the farmers, and just about everyone else.
 
And it seems that they have had enough. 
 
On Wednesday, farmers began their third protest in as many months, halting exports in a bid to hit government coffers. Braving the crisp Southern autumn air, they have once again mounted roadside vigils, blocking trucks carrying Argentina’s prized grains earmarked for foreign markets. Similar roadblocks caused food shortages and price increases in March and affected commodities prices worldwide, reflecting Argentina’s status as the planet’s third largest soybean exporter and second largest corn exporter. And with the current global food shortage, people take notice when an agricultural powerhouse doesn’t make its deliveries overseas.
 
Despite the trouble the strike caused for Argentines at supermarkets and butcher shops in March, an overwhelming majority seems to be supporting the farmers in their fight. An online poll conducted Wednesday by Clarin, Argentina’s largest newspaper, showed that 68 percent were behind the farmers’ decision to strike again.
 
Negotiations broke down this week after the government canceled talks following a pro-farm demonstration May 25--Argentina’s Revolution Day--which attracted 300,000 people to the river port city of Rosario. That drew the ire of the president and her husband and predecessor, Nestor Kirchner, who as leader of the country’s ruling Peronist Party is widely suspected to be calling the shots behind the scenes. His macho rhetoric made him a highly popular leader during his four and a half years in office, but this bravado is now being blamed by his detractors for stoking the flames of confrontation with the farmers. Kirchner himself has called their protests “antidemocratic.”
 
The farming conflict has also stirred up feelings about the new president and her combative style of government. In recent weeks, sporadic street protests--known as cacerolazos--have been taking place across Buenos Aires for the first time since 2001, when they brought down the administration of President Fernando de la Rúa. These rowdy, pots-and-pans banging protests are a sure sign that the middle-class is once again alert--and angry.
 
There is a palpable belief on the swanky streets of Buenos Aires and on the remote routes in Argentina’s farm belt that this conflict--which until now has been boisterous but mostly peaceful--will turn violent. It could become a bellwether for an array of issues that continue to plague Argentina: inflation, energy shortage, violent crime, unemployment and, perhaps most of all, the lack of transparency in the Kirchner government.
 
Inflation is chief of these concerns, and it continues to rear its ugly head, despite the state’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge it. The actual inflation rate is believed to be more than twice the official figure of 8.5 percent. This week, the province of San Luis put its April inflation rate at 3 percent, triple what the national statistics agency reports. The Kirchners have long since lost their credibility with both Argentines and overseas investors when it comes to inflation numbers. The resignation of the 36-year-old economy minister, Martin Lousteau--viewed as a fresh voice amongst other high-ranking Kirchner cronies--in April only added to the sense of impending trouble. Meanwhile, consumer and business confidence is down, and poverty is up. 
 
Capital flight is occurring, as well. In Buenos Aires, there are reports of people making large withdrawals from bank accounts and stuffing the cash under bedroom mattresses, or crossing the Rio del la Plata to deposit it in neighboring Uruguay.
 
Clearly, Argentines are once again preparing for crisis mode. But when this mentality becomes so ingrained in a country’s collective identity, as has been the case with Argentina for so many decades, is it still correct to call these situations a crisis? Perhaps a better word would be: reality.