A century ago, Argentina was one of the world's richest countries. Since then, Buenos Aires has given the world a primer on how to derail, disrupt and mismanage economic growth, with successive governments finding new and creative ways to stop prosperity in its tracks.
Now President
Cristina Fernández de Kirchner is adding a page to the nation's playbook, and
this time, the main theme is deliberate denial of reality. With the specter of
inflation threatening to overheat and burn Argentina's economic recovery,
Fernandez enacted a most peculiar
strategy to combat the problem: denying there is one.
In recent years, the administrations of Fernandez and her
deceased husband and predecessor, former President Néstor Kirchner, have gone
to extraordinary lengths to conceal the steep rise in prices. The most
troubling of all their moves came just a few days ago, when the government
filed criminal charges against economists whose work shows the true magnitude
of inflation in Argentina.
The government stands by its official inflation figures,
including a total of 9.7 percent for 2010. But private economists agree the
real number is closer to 25 percent, giving Argentina what is by some counts
the second-highest inflation rate in the world, behind Venezuela.
Argentina has long served as a test case for economic
theories and as a treasure trove of research for economic historians. The many
fascinating personalities who have served as the country's president have tried
a variety of original approaches to propel growth. In fact, there was no reason
Argentina should not have maintained its place on the list of the world's
wealthiest countries. It enjoys plentiful natural resources and a well-educated
population. Over the decades, social, political and economic experiments have
often succeeded in producing a few years of prosperity -- usually followed by
disaster.
One of those disasters came in 2001, when Buenos Aires
defaulted on $95 billion in debt, the largest sovereign debt default in
history, resulting in social unrest and a deep and painful recession that
slashed living standards for millions of Argentines. The ensuing political
crisis set off a dizzying revolving door in the Casa Rosada, the presidential
palace, with six presidents holding office in a period of little more than a
month.
Kirchner, previously an obscure governor from Patagonia,
was the one left standing when the dust cleared. His brand of strong-armed,
left-leaning, IMF-bashing populism helped right the ship of state. But as the
economy started to gain strength, price increases threatened a return to
turbulence. Argentineans had painful memories of hyperinflation from earlier
failed economic experiments. Kirchner, whose polarizing brand of politics
required high levels of inflation-stoking social spending to maintain popular
support, met with retailers and producers and essentially ordered them not to
raise prices. The president blamed price increases on wealthy business
interests he accused of engaging in speculation and other practices that caused
prices to rise, even as he insisted inflation was not rising that fast.
In 2007, when the government's own statistics agency,
INDEC, refused to lower its inflation numbers, Kirchner replaced its top
professional staff with political appointees who quickly produced the
single-digit figures the government wanted.
Graciela Bevacqua, who headed the inflation-measuring
operation until she was humiliatingly demoted, claims she was persecuted
relentlessly until she finally quit in 2009. By that time, the accomplished
statistician was working a menial job in the library of the Economics Ministry.
Her lawyer says she refused orders to alter her figures, and as a result became
the target of a Machiavellian effort to discredit her personal and professional
life.
Kirchner's transparent effort to manipulate a crucial
economic indicator sparked sharp criticism and sent businesses and investors to
the private sector in search of reliable figures. Independent analysts --
including Bevacqua, who continued working with the help of students and issues
her figures free of charge -- agreed that the real inflation rate was at least
double the official government number.
By then, the government had gone too far to back down
from its unscrupulous tinkering with a process that requires freedom from
political interference. Too much was at stake.
When Fernandez succeeded her husband as president, she
continued the inflation cover-up. Argentina's worst-kept secret had become
indispensable. Admitting manipulation would have proven politically -- and
fiscally -- costly. Argentina has essentially robbed its bondholders of
billions of dollars, as some 25 percent of the country's debt is indexed to
inflation. By cooking the books, the government has saved more than $2 billion
in interest payments to its lenders.
Now, with a presidential election scheduled for October,
the government is fighting even harder to defend its fantasy figures.
Fernandez, seeking another term, wants to do away with those pesky economists
whose inflation figures everyone believes. The last thing she wants ahead of
the vote is a scandal, even if the truth about the government's manipulation of
economic statistics is well-known.
Not only would the manipulation put a dark stain on the
Kirchners legacy, but the fact that inflation is climbing out of control could
cost Fernandez Kirchner support, particularly because she is running on a
record of strong economic growth.
Earlier this year, Fernandez's feared enforcer, Commerce
Secretary Guillermo Moreno, instructed a dozen private financial firms to
explain their inflation-measuring methodology to the INDEC, which promptly
declared the statistical methods flawed. Moreno imposed penalties on seven of
them, including Graciela Bevacqua, who says she can't afford the $120,000 fine.
The opposition accused the government of intimidation,
abuse of power and violations of human rights. But the effort to silence
professional economists did not stop. Most recently, Moreno upped the ante,
filing criminal charges against an economic consulting firm, MyS Consultores.
The government charges that MyS disseminated false information to benefit
itself and its clients.
On the surface, it might seem as if the move would invite
more scrutiny of the government's phony figures, to the president's detriment.
But Fernandez Kirchner, who leads in the polls, could actually profit from a
public spat with rich investors.
Over the years, the Kirchners proved masterful at playing
popular opinion against lenders, bankers and economists. Fernandez could score
another political victory if pressed to defend her manipulation of inflation
figures. But that victory would make it easier for the government to ignore the
looming threat inflation poses to the economy. Argentina's government appears
to have found, yet again, an original way to derail the country's prosperity.
**Frida Ghitis is an independent commentator on world
affairs and a World Politics Review contributing editor. Her weekly column,
World Citizen, appears every Thursday.