After Javier Miley won the elections in Argentina, the Russian-language internet was filled with images of him dancing in unusual costumes, shouting, using strong language and pledging to dissolve entire ministries.
But let’s take a step back to understand who he is and what his victory could mean for Argentina and the world.
The author frames his rise as a matter of being in the right place at the right time. Miley entered politics during a highly unusual moment for Argentina, a time when the Kirchner era had faded and a void of large personalities had emerged.
Nestor Kirchner governed from 2003 to 2007, followed by Cristina Kirchner from 2007 to 2015.
In 2001, two months after the attacks on New York’s Twin Towers, the Argentine economy collapsed, affecting every family. Since then, the dream of a thriving Argentina lingered as a memory from the twentieth century. People grappling with the crisis faced public protests, and the country experienced a rapid turnover of four presidents in one week. Poverty, hardship, and uncertainty about the future defined that period.
Then, in 2003, a decisive and determined lawyer in the prime of life gave the public a sense of hope. Nestor Kirchner emerged as a steady hand, guiding the nation through recovery and establishing a framework centered on social justice. His successor, Cristina Kirchner, continued the policy course with a focus on providing affordable benefits—food programs, access to higher education, cultural events, and broad transportation options. The aim was to lift many Argentines out of poverty and restore a sense of security and opportunity, contrasting with the despair that preceded it.
Both Nestor and Cristina were not only politicians but also widely regarded for their intellect. The political press drew comparisons with historic figures in Argentina’s past, especially Juan Domingo Perón and Eva Perón.
By 2015, a coalition of large exporters and liberal-minded reformers won the presidency, seeking to recalibrate the economy after a period of Kirchnerite policies.
What helped Miley’s message spread? The media often argued that in well-run nations, borders are fewer obstacles, trade with the United States can proceed smoothly, and welfare programs should be scaled back as people are encouraged to work. The implication was that government support should transition toward market-driven growth rather than continued subsidies.
Yet life did not automatically improve. Costs rose, many goods became harder to access for the majority, and the country gained notoriety for exports such as lemons to the United States while still maintaining aid for the poorer segments of society.
The 2019 elections unfolded amid a landscape of confusion and political maneuvering. The candidate allied with Cristina Kirchner, though critical of her in some respects, secured victory. For observers who enjoy political strategy, it was a multi-step game; for everyday citizens, it felt exhausting. The author shares that sentiment without dwelling on it.
The most recent president, Alberto Fernández, appeared unflashy. Some critics argue that steady power can dampen real change, and Fernández faced crises such as the pandemic and shifting global conditions. Policy responses included increased money printing and rising inflation, a trend that defined the administration’s years.
Against this backdrop, Miley emerged as a controversial but compelling figure. He presented himself as an outsider beyond party lines, a new voice who appeared on talk shows years earlier and did not seek compromise. He positioned himself as a force capable of challenging what he described as the Kirchnerian establishment.
His slogans called for sweeping changes: loosening price controls, loosening financial constraints, dissolving ministries, and even rethinking central banking. The rhetoric emphasized freedom and a break from traditional governance styles, leaving some supporters energized while others worried about stability.
One segment of society welcomed the call for reform; another feared instability. Yet debates about social justice, economic policy, and national identity persisted. It remained unclear which promises would be fulfilled, as Argentina’s elite showed a degree of resilience and continuity since the early 2000s. In the weeks before the second round of elections, the exporter faction allied with a prominent candidate, bolstering support and ministerial portfolios.
Consequences to watch could include ongoing debates about organ and child trafficking policies, moves on embassies, responses to protests, and broader privatization agendas. The possibility that these shifts would occur remained uncertain, generating varied predictions about the country’s trajectory.
Unions wield significant power and could trigger nationwide action if necessary, adding a layer of pressure. In Buenos Aires, the risk of harsh policing in moments of tension also loomed large. Meanwhile, the capital hosts a large population living below the poverty line. If affordable goods, financial assistance, and access to transportation and education become more constrained, people might resonate with Miley’s call for freedom in a more literal sense.
In a country that values democratic processes, dialogue often faces fatigue and confrontation, complicating efforts to negotiate. Nevertheless, the coming days are expected to be pivotal for Argentina’s political landscape, with demonstrations, policy debates, and shifting alliances continuing to shape the national story.
Politics remains a public spectacle, yet there is a noticeable tendency to delegate organizing tasks to professionals who understand the rhythm of public opinion, keeping heavy decisions in the hands of those who navigate the system effectively. The historical moment of mandatory citizen participation in presidential elections, established in 1912, raises questions about how such mechanics can adapt to contemporary challenges and voter behavior.
This discussion reflects a personal view and should not be taken as an official stance of any editorial board.