Guatemala Argentina Connection

A friend recently sent me an interesting editorial from the Argentine newspaper Página 12 that I wanted to share with you all. You can read the full article (in Spanish) here. The article neatly dovetails into my own research, and reinforced for me the reason why this topic is so interesting. The reference (for those of you keeping track) is: Natanson, José. "Inseguridad y política." Página 12 January 23, 2011. I should note here that the word inseguridad literally translates to "insecurity," but not in the way that most of us think of insecurity. This is not the idea that someone is not confident in themselves. Here, insecurity means not safe. There is probably a better way to translate this word so that this meaning of "not safe" comes through, but for the sake of time I'll keep using "insecurity."

To introduce the topic, Natanson writes, "Last week's episodes of insecurity reactivated the debate over lowering the age of criminal responsibility...and the laws that apply to [minors]. Like a plague, this topic disappears and reappears from time to time, with nuances that change according to the moment and the political-electoral debate." Already, I like where this is going. Not, of course, that there was some kind of crime that shocked the country. Apparently, Governor of the Province of Buenos Aires brought up the issue of lowering the age of criminal responsibility in the aftermath of a highly publicized murder committed by a fifteen year old. What I like about this is that Natanson is expressing something that I'm trying to talk about in my dissertation: that support of "iron fist" policies, such as lowering the age of criminal responsibility, comes and goes and often has to do with elections.

The article goes on to talk about the fact that, first and foremost, lowering the age of criminal responsibility has not been proven to have any impact on crime. He connects this policy with the zero tolerance policies of Giuliani in New York (rightly so) and points out many of the reasons why the apparent success of these policies disappear when you take a closer look--the reduction of crime in New York may have had more to do with rising economic prosperity and less to do with zero tolerance. He moves on from New York and travels south to Central America, where iron fist/zero tolerance policies have also been largely futile (and perhaps even counterproductive). Finally, someone else who makes the comparison between Central America and Argentina! He points out that Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras all have low age limits on criminal responsibility (children between 12 and 13 years can be charged with a crime) and have some of the highest homicide rates in the world. It's interesting to see such a comparison between Argentina and Central America. Whenever I talked about my project with (most) Argentines, they were shocked that there were places in Latin America that are more "dangerous" than Buenos Aires (with the possible exception of Rio de Janeiro in Brazil...because everyone has an idea that that city is dangerous, apparently).

But it was the analysis that followed that really drew my attention, and I'm going to do my best to translate it for you  here (please forgive the imperfect syntax, I translated this on the fly):

The politics of security in the province of Buenos Aires, the heart of the problem of insecurity in Argentina,  has been one of the most erratic and dangerous of all those implemented since the return to democracy, as a simple recounting of the ministers [of public security] shows: from León Arslanian to Carlos Ruckauf, passing to Juan Pablo Cafiero, to return again to Arslanian, until we arrive at Carlos Stornelli y Ricarco Casal. But let's break it down. It's necessary but relatively easy to debate against the defenders of penal poplulism; what is harder is to try to understand why progresivism has so many problems taking up the topic and offering if not a solution, then at least a proposal for a solution. The left always preferred to bypass the question of security: except for the two shortened terms of Arslanian in Buenos Aires and the applied focus of Hermes Binner when he assumed the governorship of Santa Fe, there are practically no relevant experiences of progressive politics of security. The fact that Kirchnerism, which has made change one of the keys to its political success, has taken seven years to make a strong showing of its willingness to change things reveals the difficulties of handling this issue. How do we explain this sloth? The logical rejection by the left of the use of repression, any form of repression, generated during the dictatorships, created a vacuum of knowledge that today has become costly. There are few experts that really know about this issue and that have any relationship with the police or some kind of accumulated experience: only a few, like Arslanian or Marcelo Saín, and a handful of institutions like CELS have dedicated themselves to systematically working on the question of security with a focus that is not mano dura (iron fist). 

To this historical rejection we must add a simplistic diagnosis--considering insecurity an automatic subproduct of poverty--which excludes any possibility of resolving this problem in the meantime. To say, as Pino Solanas said in the last electoral campaign, that the principal cause of insecurity is infant mortality is perhaps true, but it contributes little the debate over what to do about young murderers or chop shops or drug trafficking mafias entrenched in the slums, and there does not cease to be in the background the path of ingenious evasion of an issue for which it is difficult to take a concrete position. The problem is...those on the right have constructed an answer, certainly a wrong answer but an answer none the less, that provides a doctrine, a package of measures and all the paraphernalia of foundations and teams ready to apply it. It should not be a surprise that they are the ones that are ahead in the public debate.

However, here is a fact that is difficult to fit in this column. Insecurity does not define elections. Felipe Solá was reelected after designating Juan Pablo Cafiero, and Daniel Scioli was elected with an opposing discourse. Aníbal Ibarre was elected without a single proposal on this, and Mauricio Macre could be elected again even though he has not demonstrated great advances in the fight against crime. Insecurity was absent in the Kirchnerist platform in the presidential election of 2007 and despite this, Cristina won easily.  Carlos Ruckauf, the electorally successful case of mano dura most often mentioned, did not get into the 1999 provincial elections because of his promise to shoot thieves but because of electoral alchemy that permitted him to add the votes for Domingo Cavallo, without which he would have lost. This does not imply, of course, that insecurity is not an important social worry, but my hypothesis is that it does not win elections. Not yet.

 And that is what makes crime and insecurity such a fascinating topic for me. Citizens are concerned with crime in both Argentina and Guatemala, despite the huge differences in terms of aggregate levels of homicides, violent crime, etc. This is, of course, partially a matter of perspective. Knowing that Guatemala City can be more dangerous than Buenos Aires in terms of homicide rates does not make a person in Buenos Aires feel safer. But crime as a political issue varies greatly across Latin America. An expert on Venezuela recently told me that Hugo Chavez has made political statements about crime that takes the statement that poverty creates crime to the extreme, becoming an apologist for criminals (in essences saying, look, wouldn't you commit crime, too, if you were living as they do?) and putting off crime control efforts.  I haven't confirmed this myself, but I wouldn't be surprised. But how do you combat crime while still avoiding the repressive measures of past dictatorships and civil wars? Many countries in Latin America have dealt with crime (often labeled as political crime) through violent repression, and the mano dura policies now supported by the right are reminiscent of this brutal past. Populations who lived in terror of being picked up by military patrols are now supporting the return of military patrols to the streets. How do you get the public to support such efforts? How do you deal with these things in light of impunity, corruption, incompetence, and lack of resources?

*note: The photos of stencils included here were taken by a friend in Buenos Aires in June of 2010. Politically themed stencil graffiti has become a widely used art form, especially in the neighborhood of San Telmo and surrounding areas. The first one reads: "If memory doesn't exist, all that is ours is suicide." The second reads: "Never again?" Both of these are referencing the Dirty War in Argentina that left between 9,000 and 30,000 citizens dead (disappeared) following heavy repression from the military government. I am guessing that this first stencil is referring to the dictatorship even though it does not do so openly because the idea of memory was (and is) a widely discussed topic during the truth commissions investigation, during the trials against military officers for crimes against humanity, and even now that the amnesty given to military officers in the 1990s are now being overturned. The second one refers specifically to a slogan used by activists and human rights groups to support the truth commission charged with investigating the disappearances of political prisoners during the military period. I'm guessing this stencil is making a statement about political repression under democracy, particularly the (rumored) presence of death squads within the police. I included these photos because it brings into focus a very important part of this debate over crime control that is like the white elephant in the room for many: the past history of repressive policing and the blurry line between political and common crime, both in Argentina and in Central America.

Drug Cartels in Guatemala

I wanted to share this article from the Miami Herald with you, dear reader. It tells of the problem of drug cartels in Guatemala, and the turf war between the Zetas, a drug cartel born out of a Mexican army unit, and other Mexican cartels, including the Sinaloa cartel, that have a strong presence in Guatemala. Reports of Mexican drug traffickers moving down into Guatemala is not a new phenomena, but given the recent attention in the US press towards the drug war in Mexico, it makes sense that more outlets are starting to cover the story from the perspective of Guatemala.

The journalist covering this story introduces his piece by describing a Guatemalan friend who "spoke in hushed tones"* about a forced meeting between his family and the Zetas up in the norther department of Petén. Petén is a sparsely populated department covered by jungle that borders Mexico and Belize, and is home to the ancient Mayan city of Tikal, a popular tourist attraction. This story of a wealthy family meeting with drug cartels reminds me of a story I heard while talking with a Guatemalan acquaintance about people's support for harsh policing practices proposed by one of the major political parties, the Patriot Party (Partido Patriota, PP). He told be about how is family used to live on a finca (a large ranch in the countryside) in one of the northern departments. One day he found an envelope full of cash on his doorstep addressed to him. He knew that many of his neighbors had been bullied into allowing drug traffickers to land small airplanes on their land in exchange for envelopes full of cash, and he got nervous. He decided to leave the envelope where it was, and the next day it was gone. But a few days later, another envelope appeared, with more cash. He left this one alone as well, and the pattern continued for weeks. Finally, he received a phone call threatening his wife and his children if he did not take the envelope. He told me that after that phone call, he sold his ranch and moved to the city with his family. He says that now he never lets his wife or his kids leave the house alone. They are always with him or accompanied by a bodyguard. I don't know how much of this story is true--I have no way of verifying it--but it is certainly interesting. I heard it in the summer of 2007, and the stories really haven't changed all that much. The drug cartels still have a relatively free hand (despite President Colom calling a state of siege in the department of Alta Verapaz), and corruption is rampant. To make things more complicated, it seems like at least some of the corruption is due to threats and extortion.

I wanted to point out a few other things in the Miami Herald article. First, interestingly, the writer mentions that, "Faced with such violence, a social movement to demand effective, capable law-enforcement and a transparent, non-corrupt judiciary has yet to emerge from Guatemala's fragile civil society."Which, from all that I've seen, is true. Yes, there are some (very good) NGOs and other activist groups that are focused on public security issues, impunity, police reform, etc., but there hasn't been a social movement to collect these disparate groups together. And I'm not sure (speaking as an outsider) if a cohesive, effective social movement in Guatemala is likely.

Second, the journalist writes,

In Guatemala, the cartels have found a country with a state designed to be weak and ineffective by a rapacious oligarchy. Only 15,000 soldiers and 26,000 police patrol its rugged terrain, though there are more than 100,000 active private security personnel. Scaled down after the country's 1996 peace accords following decades of atrocities, today's numerically small and poorly trained Guatemalan security forces have made way for the armed enforcers of the country's various criminal monarchies.

Is this a roundabout way of blaming the current security crisis on the Peace Accords? I don't think that is the writer's intention, but the paragraph starts to read that way. The Peace Accords scaled back Guatemala's military forces, true. And yes, there are many more private security forces than public security forces (a problem that is, of course, not unique to Guatemala). But is more soldiers on the streets the solution to the drug trafficking problem? The article does not mention, for example, that corruption also pervades the military and the police. But he is right in that they are poorly equipped. I remember reading a newspaper article last year about a request from the National Civil Police to be able to arm themselves with guns confiscated from drug traffickers. We also have to remember, too, that although soldiers are patrolling the streets and fighting drug traffickers, the armed forces are not the same as the police.

Update: there is also an article covering this issue at the Economist that covers not only Guatemala, but also El Salvador and Honduras. There's an interesting map that give homicide rates of each of the Central American countries. Despite the difficulties of using national homicide statistics, given different definitions of homicide (does it include traffic deaths?) and different collection techniques (and the possibility of outright lying), it is still shocking to see the difference between the "northern triangle" countries and the rest of Central America.

*Deibert, Michael. "Caught in the Crossfire." Miami Herald. January 18, 2011.

Gun Smuggling

A friend on facebook recently posted a Washington Post article about guns smuggling into Mexico on his newsfeed. I started reading news reports of this type of smuggling from the US to Mexico in the spring of 2009, while I was in Guatemala (incidentally, the Guatemalans I knew found it amusing that finally there was some concrete evidence that contraband moves both ways across the border). I remember learning about the problem because of a New York Times article on the subject.

Basically, Mexican officials and ATF officials are finding that many, many guns used in violent crime in Mexico can be traced to US gun shops, particularly stores in Texas and other border states. ATF investigations have found that drug cartels pay "straw" buyers to purchase guns legally in the US and these guns eventually make it across the border into Mexico, often in the hands of those who bring drugs and people north. In areas of Texas, for example, one buyer could buy 10 or 15 guns in a short period of time without visiting the same store twice, due to the abundance of gun stores in cities like Houston or Brownsville. While store owners are obligated to report the purchase of multiple handguns by the same person in a short period of time, they are not obligated to report the purchase of multiple "long guns" (rifles, assault weapons, etc.). Weapons sales at gun shows and private sales of weapons don't even require the seller to record the name of the purchaser.

This particular article Washington Post article is interesting for many reasons, but I wanted to write about a few particular things.

There is a fascinating section in the report about the reaction of the National Rifle Association to claims that a large portion of guns used in acts of criminal violence (especially drug cartel violence) in Mexico come from the US.

The foundation [National Shooting Sports Foundation] and the National Rifle Association aggressively challenge statistics that show 80 to 90 percent of the weapons seized in Mexico are first sold in the United States, calling the numbers highly inflated. After being criticized by the gun lobby, ATF stopped releasing such statistics this year.

"To suggest that U.S. gun laws are somehow to blame for Mexican drug cartel violence is a sad fantasy" said Chris W. Cox, executive director of the NRA Institute for Legislative Action.

Cox said guns are coming to Mexico from other Central American countries and from former Mexican soldiers who have U.S. weapons and are now working for the cartels.

ATF disagreed, saying the biggest factors are the high number of dealers along the border and the convenient location.

Grimaldi, James V. and Sari Horwitz (2010) "As Mexico Drug Violence Run Rampant, U.S. Guns tied to Crime South of Border" Washington Post. December 13 

First, why do Mexican soldiers have US weapons? Does he mean guns are supplied to the Mexican military by the US? I don't that much about the Mexican case, so I am unsure if there is the same kind of problem of former soldiers keeping their weapons even thought they are no longer part of the military in Mexico as there is in Central America.

Second, while I wouldn't be surprised if there are some Central American weapons floating around Mexico, I am skeptical as to the extent of this problem, particularly along the northern border. Granted, there really isn't much stopping smuggling of drugs, people, or other kinds of contraband along the Guatemalan border with Mexico, but I wonder how much of this is guns. A cursory Google search turned up almost no information about gun smuggling in Central America.  A working paper from the Mexico Institute at the Wilson Center at the University San Diego suggests a few reasons why the NRA spokesman may be mistaken in his assertion that guns are coming primarily from Central America: (1) an assault rifle like an AK-47 is more expensive and lower quality in Central America, and (2) guns that do come from Central America often originate in the US--these are not guns left over from Central American civil wars, but weapons that are smuggled into Central America from the US on their way to Mexico. Hand grenades and rocket-propelled grenades, however, appear to be coming from Central America.

Also, they article recounts the dismissal of a case against a gun store owner accused of knowingly selling guns to straw buyers working for Mexican drug cartels. I am not a lawyer nor a judge, so I can't really speak to the judge's ruling (basically that the defendant's lawyers were able to show that the ATF's witnesses weren't credible and that the prosecution was "overcharging" the defendant, who could only be proven to have committed a misdemeanor). But the quotation the journalists include in the article is very interesting:

About guns going to Mexico from the United States, the judge said: "It is a terrible problem. They have to do something about it."

Grimaldi, James V. and Sari Horwitz (2010) "As Mexico Drug Violence Run Rampant, U.S. Guns tied to Crime South of Border" Washington Post. December 13 

Who are they? The Mexican authorities? The ATF? Does the judge think that the US legal system does not have a role in this drama? Is this something that the US should be pursuing? I would argue that this is something that we should be worried about. Yes, the Mexican authorities should also working on this problem (just as we should be working on the problem of drug trafficking), but this flow of weapons into Mexico from the US is not just a Mexican problem. What in the world does the average US citizen need with such open access to AK-47s? I've read the NRA's arguments as to why we should not have a ban on so-called "assault weapons," but I am not a hunter or a gun enthusiast and am still ignorant as to whether or not people really use these types of weapons to hunt or whether they are truly helpful as a measure of self-defense. A friend of mine in Guatemala once told me about why he stopped carrying a gun. Concealed handguns (legal and illegal) are pretty common in Guatemala, and I know more than a few people who carry guns for protection. My friend told me he stopped carrying his gun the day after he actually used it to defend himself--long story short, he was almost killed in a gun fight in the street with a thief who was robbing his neighbor (I didn't quite get him to tell me who started shooting first). He told me that carrying a gun made him more likely to use it, and by using it he put himself in more danger than he would have been otherwise. Obviously, this is just one story of many (there is a fascinating This American Life episode about gun control), but it resonates with me.

If you are interested in arms trafficking in Mexico and Central America, here is a great source for articles on the subject.

Gangs in Chicago

NPR recently reported on new anti-gang policies in Chicago (listen/read here). The new policies approach gang violence in Chicago in two ways: by arraigning meetings between gang members on parole and community members and families of victims of gang violence, and by putting pressure on gangs that have at least one member suspected of violence. If one gang member is suspected of a violent crime, the police will arrest as many other members as possible on any other charge possible. The intent is to foster self-policing among gangs, a tactic reminiscent of punishing the whole class if one person cheats or making the entire soccer team run laps when one person mouths-off to the coach. Apparently, similar programs have been successfully implemented in Boston and Cincinnati.

When listening to the piece, I tried to think of how we would react to such a move if it had been done in Central America. Such a tactic would certainly be categorized as an "iron fist" approach to crime control, emphasizing punitive measures, punishment for wrongdoing. It is not exactly the same as rounding up young men solely based on their physical appearance (tattoos, etc.) or suspicion of gang membership, but it does lead to mass arrests. The first test of the new policy in Chicago led to the arrest of 60 gang members in the aftermath of a gang-related murder. My biggest questions have to do with where these petty charges come from and what happens to those arrested. Are the charges that weren't acted on earlier because they were too small? Are those arrested actually suspected, individually, of committing these petty crimes, or are they arrested solely for being members of a gang that commits these offenses? Are those getting arrested actually sentenced for these small crimes? During the Mano Dura and Super Mano Dura days in El Salvador, the majority of those arrested on suspicion of gang membership were released due to lack of evidence. Does this new policy in Chicago mean that the only evidence needed to arrest someone is membership in a gang, as long as they suspect someone in the gang to have committed a crime? What kind of evidence is needed to charge these gang members with these smaller crimes?

These new measures in Chicago take the opposite approach of zero-tolerance policies made famous in New York. Zero-tolerance tactics spring from the "broken window" theory, that by cleaning high-crime areas (e.g.fixing broken windows, cleaning up graffiti) and arresting people for small, petty crimes, we can prevent more serious, violent crimes from occurring. These new policies are attempting to reduce serious, violent crime by punishing small, petty crimes after a serious crime has already been committed. That is, punish gangs for petty offenses in retaliation for a more serious crime in the hope that it will prevent future violence. It abandons the link between petty crime and serious crime implicit in zero-tolerance policies and takes up the logic that gangs will stop members from committing serious crimes for fear that everyone might be picked up for something small. They aim for the same end result, but get there on different paths.

This is, of course, a controversial policy. NPR quotes the head of a faith-based group dedicated to rehabilitation and outreach for at-risk youth, who argues that using the stick without offering some sort of carrot (or if not a carrot at least some alternative) doesn't really take care of the problem. The governor of Illinois worries that because the new policies includes meetings between the gangs and the superintendent of police, it only gives more status, more legitimacy, to gangs. Interestingly, I read similar complaints in newspaper editorials and on internet forums in El Salvador after the public transportation strike in September this year. Street gangs held their own press conferences with local media outlets following the passage of new anti-gang legislation that made gangs illegal, and some criticized the media coverage of these press conferences for giving legitimacy and prestige to gangs. Could this lead to status seeking among gangs?

Finally, I am unsure about the impact of meeting with family members of victims of gang violence. I haven't read any literature on this type of intervention (although I am sure it exists and intend to look into the secondary literature). Does exposing gang members (parolees in this case) to the sorrow of victims and the frustrations of community members make gangs less likely to commit violence? Or is this more a public relations tactic targeted more at the community than at the gangs, a way for the city to show that they are not only relying on punitive measures?  

I would be interested to know what people more well-informed that I am about anti-gang policy in Central America think about these new tactics in Chicago.

Dissertating

It has been a chore to get myself to write again. Trying, attempting, straining to write my dissertation (or anything pertaining to my dissertation) is taking up all my brain power. It is gratifying to know that someone somewhere at the university thinks it is worthwhile to pay me so I can write and not have to hold down a full time job at the same time (no, I don't count being a TA as a full time job...although being a TA and writing more than counts). So I've been neglectful of this blog. Of course, it is also because I'm not traveling at the moment and do not have any fun adventures to write about. Those, I hope, will be coming again, in time.

My life right now consists of writing, fooling around with STATA, pretending I know what I'm doing, occasional visits to the gym, cooking, diving to and from campus, and sleeping. Oh, and a random novel and movie thrown in from time to time. Every once in a while I socialize with fellow grad students. I search for fellowships online and am constantly re-framing and re-writing my generic fellowship proposal. And I worry about the future, most specifically about how I'm going to survive financially once my funding runs out in April.

It's not the most exciting existence, but it certainly isn't that terrible either. Perhaps it could best be described as a break. I was thinking about it in terms of being in Limbo, but I think that description is a bit too bleak. Life for me right now is the most routinized, the most normal, the most settled it has been since I started writing this blog, maybe even since before that. Which is probably what I'm rebelling against (ha!). So my new plan of attack is to embrace routine and settle in for the next few months. Maybe then I'll get some real writing done!

So, dear readers, I'm setting myself the challenge of writing on this blog at least once a week. Not so much about my adventures abroad, but about my work and other interesting things (interesting to me at least, you all can judge for yourselves if it is universally appealing). Let's see how it goes, shall we?

Fuerza Bruta

The problem with being a slacker when it comes to updating a blog is that you start to forget things. It's already October and I'm still writing about May, for goodness sake! But I'm going to do my best to get caught up. Life isn't really all that interesting right now anyway, at least in the realm of adventure, so you all are probably getting a better story from me remembering back five months than if you were getting an up-to-date play-by-play (nice, two hyphenated words in a row!).

The final night of the festivities for the Bicentenial of the May Revolution, the government pulled out all the stops. A local acrobatics group (think Cirque du Soleil) called Fuerza Bruta (brute force) put on a parade of acrobats and musicians and dancers that was absolutely incredible. There were hundreds of performers that acted out scenes from the history of Argentina, from its indigenous cultures, to independence, to Perón, the Malvians/Falkland Islands War, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, etc. I'm including some photos my roommate took (my camera had, unfortunately, was no longer with us at this stage). The first photo is of the tango scene. The musicians were perched on top of taxi cabs as the dancers tangoed in the street. It's a bit hard to see in the photo, but if you look closely you can make it out.

Granted, I couldn't actually see anyone but the musicians on top of the cars from my vantage, but apparently my roommate had a much better view. I had gotten lost from the crowd that day, and was watch the parade by myself, positioned in the middle of a bush with a few other spectators trying to get away from the push and shove of the crowd.

This next photo is of the scene of the Mothers of the Disappeared, the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo. The are famous for protesting the military dictatorship during the military period. Tens of thousands of people disappeared during the dictatorship that ran from 1976 to 1983, some of whom were linked to "subversive" leftist organizations, others who were targeted for economic reasons (military and police officers often forced detainees to sign over deeds to land, homes, cars, etc.), still others were kidnapped and tortured and murdered for the sole purpose of creating fear or because of mistaken identity. It was illegal to loiter in the plaza, so in protest of the disappearance of their children, a group mothers began to march around the monument in the center of the Plaza de Mayo, the plaza in front of the presidential palace (the Casa Rosada). These mothers demanded (and still demand) that the government give them back their children. As a symbol of their roles as mothers, they wore white cloth diapers as kerchiefs on their heads, a symbol that is now synonymous with the Mothers of the Disappeared. In this interpretation, the actors wore headpieces that glowed white and marched in simulated rain, a striking image and one that moved many in the crowd.

There were many impressive scenes played out in the parade. San Martín's army crossed the Andes in the snow; soldiers in the Malvinas were shot, buried with crosses over their graves (when the soldiers lay down their backpacks turned into grave markers), and rose again to march on; bankers fought over cash in a high-wire maelstrom in the economic insanity of the 1990s; immigrants ran about on ocean liners from Europe; demonstrators shouted slogans and carried banners for Perón; and a woman dressed in white and blue representing Argentina swung over the heads of the crowd, dancing on the end of a boom. It was, well, impressive.

La Revolución de Mayo

In May of 1810, a group of criollo lawyers and military officers held a meeting in the city of Buenos Aires and voted to not recognize the Regency in Spain set in place by Napoleon, overthrow the current Viceroy of the Río de la Plata colony and set up a junta to rule. Even though the junta in Buenos Aires invited delegates from the other cities within the Río de la Plata colony, a series of small wars broke about between different regions, some supporting the junta and others supporting the Regency in Spain. While the May Revolution was not an official declaration of independence, many see the acts committed between the 18th and 25th of May of 1810 in Buenos Aires as the starting point of the Argentine War of Independence and one of the many starting points of the Spanish American Wars of Independence. Independence was finally declared in Buenos Aires on July 9, 1816.

All of this, of course, means that this year is the 200th anniversary of the May Revolution. I had no idea that I'd be in Buenos Aires for the celebrations (lucky me!) but by a serendipitous twist of fate (or something) I happened to rent a room in a house two blocks from one of the biggest centers of the festivities. For the five days of the holiday, the national government blocked off ten blocks of 9 de julio avenue (if you recall, this is one of the widest streets in the world). The government put up huge pavilions in the street showing off products from all the provinces, showing off Argentine industry, history and culture. There were various stages along the route for musical and dance performances, culminating in the main stage just in front of the obelisco, at the intersection of 9 de julio and Corrientes. For those of you from the US, think of the Washington Monument and set it down in the middle of a sixteen lane avenue cutting through the heart of Buenos Aires. There were also stages set up in the Plaza de Mayo and other historical areas in the city. Hundreds of thousands of people came out to the celebration (probably in the millions if added up over the course of the five day holiday).

The first night, Friday, was a celebration of Argentine National Rock, and was a lot of fun. I recognized quite a few of the artists that played at the free concert, which lasted until 2 am (Leon Gieco, Los Pericos, Fito Paez, etc.). I headed out to the concert early, in an attempt to meet some couchsurfers, but we all got lost in the crowd. Or at least I did. Lots of people in close proximity, lots of elbows and tight spaces and pushing and compression. But, overall, I was very impressed with the civility in the crowd. I only saw one instance of violence, which I'll write about later. No one was even really bad mouthing anyone else (unless they were referencing politics). Since I couldn't find the couchsurfers, I attempted to meet up with my new roommates and their friends. About an hour into searching (aided by text messages), I was able to find them thanks to one of my roommate's ingenious plan to put one of his friends on his shoulders and have her wave his red hat in the air until I stumbled upon them. Lucky for us, we were able to walk home that night. The streets were completely full of people, and the subways were overflowing with people. It truly was a mass of humanity, and I wouldn't have wanted to try my luck underground with that many people on all sides.

I was struck with how civil things were, truly. I remember attending a free concert in Guatemala City. We had to pass through checkpoints to enter the area in front of the stage and were patted down for weapons and had our bags searched. There were black, seven foot barriers surrounding the plaza, and the guards carried guns. Here, there were no barriers, no weapons check, not that many police in sight. Or rather, I saw cops but really only near the stages. At one point on the fourth night of the holiday, one of my Spanish roommates and I were sitting on the ground right in the center of the crowd, waiting for the next band to set up their equipment, when a group of people beating the hell out of thief almost fell down right on top of us. Apparently the man had stolen cell phones from some of the people in the crowd, and at least three of them (a woman and two men) were hitting and kicking him until he gave the phones back. Almost by accident he dropped the phones, and they let him run off into the crowd. It was vicious, and no one even made a move to call the police over. But somehow I think it would have played out differently in another setting or another country. I don't know. It may just be because there are less guns in general circulation in Buenos Aires than in Guatemala (per capita, I suppose...don't quote me on that until I can actually check out the statistics). More than anything else, I was just glad I was able to scramble out of the way in time.

The next night I was able to meet up with some couchsurfers, and we enjoyed an evening of international music (including Gilberto Gil!) once again situated right in the heart of the crowd. I will say my knees ached for weeks afterward because of standing for so many hours. I'll bet I averaged about five to eight hours a day on my feet in the crowds or walking around over the five days. The concert was a lot of fun. But definitely not for the claustrophobic! While I was hanging out with the couchsurfers, my roommates embarked on a daring plan (well, ok, not really daring, but that makes it sound better, no?) to make a little cash. Budding entrepreneurs that they are, they bought up 100 cans of beer and sold them for double the price to thirsty revelers. Later they proudly informed me they sold out in less than an hour! I spend the third evening inside after the festivities were canceled due to torrential rain. It was a nice rest for my weary legs.

It was really quite an experience to be part of this celebration. I wonder what it must be like for foreign tourists to partake in similar celebrations in the US. I obviously missed quite a bit of the patriotic fervor of the celebration and probably much of the underlying connotations of certain performances, etc. But it was definitely a fun party! I'll fill in the rest in the next post...