Don’t Cry For Milei, Argentina

On December 10, 2023, Javier Milei, after having been sworn in as the newly-elected president of Argentina, faced a cheering crowd of tens of thousands in Buenos Aires’ vast Congressional Plaza. In the emotional closing comments of his inaugural address to the overwhelmingly Catholic audience, Milei alluded to his love and respect for Judaism and Jewish values.

So, you might well ask: How did a man who adores Judaism and Israel, whose spiritual guide is a Chabad rabbi, and who has publicly claimed he wants to become a Jew, how did a man like that get elected to the presidency of a largely Catholic country?

The answer is straightforward. Argentina is a large country replete with enormous resources and a relatively small and well-educated population; but, in spite of that, it’s a nation in deep, deep economic trouble. Triple-digit inflation, the country’s most pressing problem, threatens to swell the poverty rate and destroy what was once a large, but now dwindling, middle-class.

Most agree that the country’s financial woes have been caused by massive corruption, wretched mismanagement, and misguided decisions, leading to a nation-wide disgust for the traditional ruling parties — right, left and center — that have brought Argentina into such an economic mess.

Throw into this combustible situation a colorful, economics-savvy firebrand who knows how to rile up a crowd, have him run against Sergio Massa, the most recent finance minister — the very person who presided over the current out-of-control inflation — and you end up with a landslide that put Javier Milei, an articulate and radical talking-head veteran of television talk shows, a man relatively new to national politics, holding the reins of Argentina’s immediate destiny.

Some have compared Milei (mee-LAY) to former U.S. president Donald J. Trump, and there are similarities, but there are differences as well. Milei is a trained economist who’s written extensively on the topic, and his electoral support has come from all levels of Argentine society. He’s also someone who has no personal history of corruption or malfeasance. During the last two years, as a member of the Chamber of Deputies, he’s given away his salary.

In his campaign, Milei stressed that he is an “anarchist-libertarian” who is not connected to the existing political parties and who, therefore, bears no blame for the current economic situation.

Instead, he started his own party, Libertad Avanza, Liberty Advances, in which “liberty” means freedom from onerous taxes and regulations, freedom from a “political caste” that, in Milei’s words, has kept the country “enslaved” and brought it to financial ruin.

Milei values private property, free markets, and free competition — an economy that functions, as much as possible, without government intervention or micro-management. On Nov. 19, 2023, Milei’s message won him the election in a landslide. He garnered nearly 56% of the vote, winning by the largest margin in Argentine history.

Part of Milei’s attraction has been his personal eccentricities. At 52, he’s never married, has no children. He uses profanity freely in interviews, even on TV. His closest advisors are his sister and his dogs, clones of a deceased dog he adored. Because of his odd hairstyle, he’s called La peluca, the wig. Among other strange habits, he wields a chainsaw to signify he’s going to cut government spending. Some call him El loco—the nutjob—a title he’s embraced.

The two countries he wants to be close to and copy are the U.S. and Israel, and he intends to move the Argentine embassy to Jerusalem.

And, as mentioned above, one of his most well-known quirks is that he said he intends to convert to Judaism. Before the inauguration he went to New York and visited the grave of Menachem Schneerson, the revered Lubavitcher Rebbe. In Buenos Aires, he embraces Chabad and has taken on the local Chabad rabbi as his spiritual leader. He even lit the sixth Hanukkah candle at Chabad’s menorah, after he was already president. The two countries he wants to be close to and copy are the U.S. and Israel, and he intends to move the Argentine embassy to Jerusalem.

*

On December 10, when Milei was set to be inaugurated at Congressional Plaza, my wife Betty and I were in Buenos Aires. Betty did not want me to attend the inauguration. Born in Buenos Aires, having lived there during years of political turmoil and street protests that occasionally turned violent, she was concerned for my safety. But I wanted to see it in person, so I got up early and left while she was still asleep.

Rather than take a taxi or Uber, I walked four miles to Congressional Plaza, where Milei was scheduled to give his inaugural address. I walked because I wanted to feel the atmosphere.

Buenos Aires and its suburbs contain one-third of Argentina’s population of 45 million, and the large city is as sophisticated as ever, with impressive museums, cutting-edge theater, and fabled music and dance — not just tango. There’s a cool jazz club called Thelonious and the world-class Teatro Colón is an impressive venue for opera and ballet. Public sculpture is everywhere.

Near expansive green areas filled with trees and statues, an old zoo has been turned into a politically-correct eco-park where harmless animals roam freely, and there’s a walkway meant to have the visitor experience what it feels like to be caged. Sushi restaurants sprout like enoki mushrooms, avocado toast is on a great many menus, gay couples can be seen strolling hand-in-hand, and the formal, polite usted and its accompanying verbs have virtually disappeared, replaced by the informal voice in billboards, traffic warnings, and conversations with strangers.

As I walked toward Congressional Plaza, cars drove by with Argentine flags waving. In one, a woman yelled out, “Long live liberty! Wake up, people! Wake up! It’s time for liberty!”

In the Congressional Plaza, there were tens of thousands. Many had wrapped themselves in full-sized Argentine flags. It felt like a joyous party. Smiles. Families. Parents with children on their shoulders, all shouting Milei’s rallying cry: Viva la libertad, carajo!

When the presidential address was about to begin, Milei, flanked by others, approached the podium. His appearance was unimposing, but his gravitas was reinforced by the neoclassical columns of the Congressional Palace from which he emerged, by the vast crowds facing him, and by Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelensky, dressed in his usual olive drab, sitting a few feet away. Milei and Zelensky exchanged a warm hug — an act of political bro-hood but with the clear implication of religious comradeship.

Milei, looking and sounding sure of himself, addressed the huge crowd. He delivered a well-thought-out, well-written and well-delivered speech. No hint of revenge or vindictiveness. He said that no previous Argentine administration had inherited such a “catastrophic situation” and he outlined, in general terms, how he intended to reduce inflation.

In pointing out Argentina’s increasing poverty rate, and the need to find a way to help people live dignified lives, Milei’s words echoed FDR’s famous Depression Era inaugural address: “I see one-third of the nation ill-housed, ill-clad, and ill-nourished.”

Milei also drew from Churchill’s WWII speech warning the British they were facing “blood, toil, tears and sweat.” The nation, he said, is broke. “If we want to change people’s lives for the better, there’s no alternative to drastic measures.” He warned that people would suffer in the short term, but his government would try to make it as painless as possible.

“The situation is critical, but we have the resources to fix it,” Milei said, offering hope. “Change has to start today and we have the people and resources to do it.”

Milei addressed immigrants, a topic treated very differently in Argentina from the way it’s used as a wedge issue in the U.S. “We accept gladly all those who want to help fix the problems of this country,” Milei said. “We don’t care where people are from, but whether they can help.”

At the climactic end of his emotional speech, Milei invoked his connection to Judaism. To the cheering throngs, he said: “It is no coincidence that this inauguration occurs during the feast of Hanukkah, the Feast of Light, because Hanukkah celebrates the essence of liberty. The struggle of the Maccabees symbolizes the triumph of the weak over the strong, of the few over the many, of light over darkness, and most of all, the triumph of truth over falsehood, because all of you know that I prefer to tell you an uncomfortable truth rather than a comfortable lie.”

In his final lines, Milei quoted from “The Book of the Maccabees,” the clear implication being that what follows has been his guiding principle. His voice quiet and serious, as if in prayer, Milei said: “‘Victory in battle does not depend on the size of your army, but on the strength that comes from Heaven.’ May God bless the Argentine people. And may the strength of Heaven accompany us in this challenge…. It’s going to be difficult, but we’re going to accomplish it.”

Then he shouted his rallying cry: “Viva la libertad, carajo! Viva la libertad, carajo!” (“Carajo” is Spanish for the f-word, indicating determination and anger. A PG-rated translation would be: “Long live liberty, dammit!”) The massive crowd shouted his motto with him, again and again.

“Viva la libertad, carajo! Viva la libertad, carajo! Viva la libertad, carajo!”

*

Argentina saw a large European immigration, including many Jews, in the late 19th and first half of the 20th century. During those years the Jewish population swelled to more than 310,000. Since the latter half of the 20th century, intermarriage and emigration have thinned out the Jewish population. The official figure is now 180,000, making Argentina the country with the sixth largest Jewish population, after Israel, U.S., France, Canada and United Kingdom.

While in Argentina I attended synagogue services, was present at an all-night bat mitzvah celebration, enjoyed a Jewish friend’s 70th birthday party, spent a Sunday at that friend’s weekend retreat where there were a couple of dozen Jews of all ages, and had many, many conversations with members of the Jewish community about their attitudes toward Milei.

One of the repeating themes was that the Jewish branch Milei is attached to, Chabad, is a small and unrepresentative part of Argentine Jewry.

Dr. Elina Caro Raijman, a pathologist, pointed out that “here in Argentina there are religious Jews of all stripes, from Orthodox to Reform, and a great many who have no connection at all to the religion, including more than a few who are leftist. One is Miryam Bregman, who ran for president and is anti-Zionist. The Jewish community has all types, so for Milei to be so close to the Chabad segment, which is small, well, it seems sort of strange.

“When you start talking with Argentine Jews, you’ll find a wide variety of opinions about Milei and how people feel about his presidency. There are those who have a lot of hope and faith, and you’re going to find those who are very worried and anguished.”

At a Friday night service at the Conservative Congregation Amijai—“My Nation Lives”— Alejandro Avruj, the rabbi, said that “We hope this government succeeds, for Argentina’s sake. Supporting Argentina means doing what we can to support the government that’s now in power.” Avruj’s words had the tone of ‘this is what we have, so let’s make the best of it.’ In a published account in Argentina’s newspaper La Nación, Avruj diplomatically suggested that Milei may want to have contact with some other Argentine Jews besides those in Chabad.

Some Argentine Jews I spoke with said they voted for Milei and are pleased at the changes he’s put into effect since becoming president. Others are leftists who are mistrustful of Milei’s regime and skeptical about his connections to Judaism. Still others said they didn’t vote for Milei but support some of his ideas and proposals.

Gabriel Mehlman said he didn’t vote for Milei, but he didn’t vote for his opponent either, since Sergio Massa is the one who’s been in charge of the disastrous economy these last few years.

Mehlman agrees with Milei’s fight against a “paternalistic government,” but he thinks that “people need the federal government to handle issues involving public health, education, and services. There cannot be a situation without government.” What Mehlman is sure of is that now that Milei is actually in charge, his actions will not be as radical as his campaign promises.

Addressing the situation of Jews in Argentina, Mehlman, 62, said, “This is not an antisemitic country. The Jewish community is deeply rooted here. It’s a community that’s respected, generally-speaking, and, for the most part, doing well. Not everyone, of course, but there are many successful professionals and business people. It’s not a community in financial crisis. Some have more, some have less, but in general it’s comprised of those in the middle class and up from there.”

Mehlman himself is an example of that. After receiving his law degree, he started working for the federal government. Now, 40 years later, he’s Managing Director of the bureau that deals with modernization of Argentina’s Federal Judiciary.

When asked about Milei’s flirtation with Judaism, Mehlman said, “I don’t know how wise it is for Milei to send his personal spiritual adviser, his Chabad rabbi, as the ambassador to Israel. As ambassador to the U.S., Milei named a Jewish businessman, Gerardo Werthein, who supported Milei during his campaign. All presidents name cronies to ambassadorial positions, but not to countries that are strategic partners.

“There are many Jews who have supported Milei, among them business leaders, Jews who tend to be more conservative, and who are much more in favor of libertarian economic ideas… The fact that Milei has embarked on theological and even mystical discussions about Judaism, I don’t know how positive that will be in the long run. If things go badly, it’s as if we, those in the Jewish community, have been part of the political program that Milei has proposed.”

That attitude was echoed by other Argentine Jews, both those who support Milei and those who do not: the fear that if Argentina’s economic situation continues to go downhill—given Milei’s close relationship with the Jewish community and with Israel—it’s Jews who’ll be blamed.

*

During my stay in Argentina, I took a one-hour taxi ride out of the city of Buenos Aires and I thought about the two main points I’d heard over and over. One, that Milei has allied himself with Chabad, which represents a small portion of the Jewish community; and two, if Milei fails in his aim of improving the economic situation, the Jewish community will be blamed.

The driver on this long taxi ride was a 76-year-old named Luis Blanca, the only non-Jew interviewed for this story. When he was 65, Blanca retired from a city job as a laborer and has been driving a taxi part-time ever since. He was chatty, friendly, and he talked about his life.

I mentioned that at the inauguration, Milei had referred to Hanukkah and the Maccabees. Blanca knew nothing about all that, and I suspect that’s true of many Argentines, which is why local newspapers ran explanations of those references in the days following the inauguration.

Just before he dropped me off, I asked Blanca what he thought about Milei’s connection to Judaism and to Israel. He thought for a moment, then said, “Well, I’m Catholic but not serious about it. I don’t go to church. Listen: I voted for Milei because I trust him. I trust what he says. He tells it like it is. If he doesn’t know something, he admits it. He’s truthful. So if Milei is a fan of Judaism and Israel, if he’s an advocate, well, I’m going to give it a fair hearing.”

“And Luis… what if the situation doesn’t improve? Will you blame the Jewish community?”

Blanca laughed. “Blame the Jewish community? Why carajo would I do that?”

In the face of the fears and concerns I’d heard from some in the Jewish community, Luis Blanca’s reasonable comments, however vulgar, offered hope, and some peace of mind.

Roberto Loiederman has written more than 100 articles for The Jewish Journal. He is co-author of “The Eagle Mutiny,” a nonfiction account of the only mutiny on an American ship in modern times.