“I didn’t get in here to guide lambs. I got in here to wake up lions.” I want to hear them roar! Long live freedom, dammit!” Javier Milei, president-elect of the Argentine Republic.
We first saw Javier Milei in person at the Viva 22, the massive event organised by VOX in Madrid on October 8th last year. His speech, although focused on the economy, was very forceful:
I want to leave a message: this is not for the lukewarm. Intermediate solutions are not valid here, because they are functional to more socialism, to communism … Don’t be afraid, go and fight the battle against the zurderío (a word used in Argentina to refer to leftists), we are going to win. Don’t be afraid, we are superior productively, we are superior morally, go and fight. This is not for the lukewarm, this is to confront the socialists to their faces and win this battle.
Milei closed his speech in front of the crowd as he does in his home country, with his slogan and battle cry, with his arms raised high, shouting and haranguing the audience three times: Viva la Libertad, carajo! The crowd responded amidst the applause with a Viva! of their own. On that occasion, the practically unknown Argentinian politician did not disappoint the attendees of the party of militants and followers of Santiago Abascal. There he had taken his first step in Spain and in Europe towards what he is today: the most popular and controversial politician of the moment, the elected president of Argentina.
The next day, we went early to the Viva 22. It was then, as we approached the main area, that we saw Javier Milei accompanied by his sister walking calmly through the fair. It was a good time to approach the Peluca (he is nicknamed el Peluca or el León because of his luxuriant, unkempt hair), and we took advantage of it. Milei greeted us cordially, although his gesture at first was serious. However, when he heard the unmistakable Argentinian accent of one of us, his face changed and he smiled as he recognised a fellow countryman. During this brief encounter, Milei was very friendly, attentive and even happy, and for a moment it seemed as if two Argentines from the same city, two porteños, had just met in Madrid and were sharing some anecdote.
Of course, we decided to immortalise the moment with a photograph, and then the character, the politician, returned and Milei made his characteristic gesture: looking at the camera in a swoop, pouting and both fists with raised thumbs facing each other in the shape of an ‘L.’ This unmistakable gesture is not only performed with those who ask him for a selfie, but with anyone who is portrayed with him, be it someone from his party, a close collaborator, a leader of a friendly political force, a journalist, a trade union leader, whoever is immortalised with his figure. This gesture is equivalent to an autograph signature that makes his authenticity clear. It already indicates that he is not just another politician, but an artist, a star who is indebted to his public.
In addition to his character, Javier Milei possesses fearsome rhetorical skill, an unprejudiced style, a clear, hopeful and tough message. He brings together freshness, passion, and illusion in an amalgam of explosive aesthetics, topped with a personal image that is his hallmark in the street and with the people: a black leather jacket and tousled hair. And this is not a pretence; clearly it is something that comes naturally to him. His image is closer to that of a rock star than that of an Austrian School economist. It is clear that Milei is a right-wing politician of this century who breaks with the fossilised archetype of the old fogey
Milei, as a good artist, also plays the character of the politician, because he does not consider himself one of them. For him, politicians constitute a truly privileged caste, a caste that plundered the Argentines and shared out the country’s wealth like booty. Milei, as he has stated on numerous occasions, is an “outsider,” he is not a professional politician and is not part of the caste. Milei is something else, a mass phenomenon and a leader who is not afraid to call a spade a spade. He courageously says what millions of his compatriots would also like to say, not just hear. This courage is also another of the elements that indicate that he is the one who can turn around the catastrophe that his country is currently experiencing: “Today the reconstruction of Argentina begins,” he said as soon as he won the presidential elections, restoring hope to a majority that had been silenced.
It is curious that just over two years ago Milei was unknown. His movement, La Libertad Avanza, was not born out of the mainstream political parties and therefore did not have state funding or media support. No, it grew out of a small core of close collaborators, such as his sister Karina and Victoria Villaroel, and the enthusiasm of his activists. His charisma did the rest. Thus was born the Milei phenomenon, a mass movement around the strength of his personality, his spontaneity, his transgressive appearance, and, above all, his closeness to the people. A very Argentinean phenomenon, a mixture of rocker and footballer, a synthesis of two of the country’s most popular passions and of two of his life experiences before devoting himself to classical economics: he was goalkeeper at Club Atlético Chacarita Juniors and front-man of Everest, a rock cover band of Rolling Stones songs. Football and rock, rebellion and freedom, he had everything to conquer the hearts of a people yearning for liberation, in need of a final healing catharsis that would put an end to decades of decadence. Temperament, an unprejudiced attitude, clarity, strength, forcefulness and image. The formula could not fail, and so it has not.
The images of his interventions on television, his campaign events, his massive caravans touring the nation from north to south, from east to west in the poorest and most marginalised neighbourhoods—historical territories of clientelist Peronism, his private electoral hunting grounds—flooded social media networks. The symbol of the chainsaw mowing down the wastefulness of public spending and corruption, to the rhythm of rock music, accompanies his electoral campaign staging. The shovel, another symbolic instrument of his ideology, he proposes to pick up again to recover the culture of work lost through decades of subsidies (known as plans) in exchange for votes for the Kirchnerist bosses. Ideology and show, ideas and spectacle are combined in a novel political proposal that breaks with the disenchantment and sclerosis of perks that left its people and the country that was once the so-called “breadbasket of the world” in misery and at the tail end of development and economic growth worldwide.
In spite of the enthusiasm generated, no one expected the surprise of the Mandatory and Simultaneous Open Primary Elections (PASO), in which he became the most voted pre-candidate for the presidential election. His victory set off alarm bells for the regime and the media in its service and, as has happened in so many other countries, unleashed an atrocious fear campaign against Milei. He has been accused of the most bizarre personal and ideological matters. The lies have not worked. The propaganda apparatus of the state merged with Peronism has failed. With Milei, demonisation did not work: direct contact with ordinary Argentines neutralised it. Almost 14.5 million Argentines opted for the proposals of the libertarian liberal, almost 12 points ahead of the ruling party led by Sergio Massa.
What has been the key to his success? It is always said that the key to populism is its transversality, its ability to reach different social strata and to reach the victims of the system, of globalisation or, in this case, of ‘Kirchnerato,’ which is how Eduardo Feimann defines the despotic regime installed in Argentina. And in Argentina, the victims are legion: the workers who live in precarious conditions with 140% inflation; the small traders and businessmen suffocated by abusive taxes; the remnants of an increasingly impoverished middle class; those who suffer from the social disorder brought about by organised crime and drug trafficking; those who are fed up with the corruption and impunity of the political class; the poor and the marginalised who represent 50% of the Argentine population.
All those who do not live off the party system or its subsidies, and all of them have seen in Milei a hope of salvation, a last attempt to avoid falling into the abyss and to make Argentina great again. For this reason, the vote for Milei was not a doctrinaire vote for libertarianism, minarchism, or anarcho-capitalism, but neither was it a vote for punishment; it was a vote for survival. Ordinary Argentines have had enough and have found in Milei a compatriot willing to take the bull by the horns.
The journalist Marcelo Bonelli asked Javier Milei a very direct question on Argentine television, “Are you a madman?” Milei replied: “The difference between a genius and a madman is success.” The truth is that only a ‘madman’ would have dared to take the steps that Milei has taken, and for many his proposals are just that: sheer madness. Tolkien once said that it is wise to recognise necessity, even if it may seem like insanity to those who harbour false hopes. Argentina is in need of radical change, an alternative that will put an end to the snake oil sold by its political caste and to the endless cycle of economic, social and political crises, recurrently repeated like Sisyphus’ condemnation to climb a rock to the top of a mountain from where it would fall of its own weight again and again.
“Hear, Mortals, the sacred cry: Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” These are the first two stanzas of the Argentine National Anthem. Three times that value is repeated, that natural faculty of man, that higher ontological value that defines the human person and that also cries out from the motto of the libertarian economist. Viva la Libertad, carajo! can already be heard loud and clear like the roar of a lion’s pride.
Milei’s Blessed Madness
“I didn’t get in here to guide lambs. I got in here to wake up lions.” I want to hear them roar! Long live freedom, dammit!” Javier Milei, president-elect of the Argentine Republic.
We first saw Javier Milei in person at the Viva 22, the massive event organised by VOX in Madrid on October 8th last year. His speech, although focused on the economy, was very forceful:
Milei closed his speech in front of the crowd as he does in his home country, with his slogan and battle cry, with his arms raised high, shouting and haranguing the audience three times: Viva la Libertad, carajo! The crowd responded amidst the applause with a Viva! of their own. On that occasion, the practically unknown Argentinian politician did not disappoint the attendees of the party of militants and followers of Santiago Abascal. There he had taken his first step in Spain and in Europe towards what he is today: the most popular and controversial politician of the moment, the elected president of Argentina.
The next day, we went early to the Viva 22. It was then, as we approached the main area, that we saw Javier Milei accompanied by his sister walking calmly through the fair. It was a good time to approach the Peluca (he is nicknamed el Peluca or el León because of his luxuriant, unkempt hair), and we took advantage of it. Milei greeted us cordially, although his gesture at first was serious. However, when he heard the unmistakable Argentinian accent of one of us, his face changed and he smiled as he recognised a fellow countryman. During this brief encounter, Milei was very friendly, attentive and even happy, and for a moment it seemed as if two Argentines from the same city, two porteños, had just met in Madrid and were sharing some anecdote.
Of course, we decided to immortalise the moment with a photograph, and then the character, the politician, returned and Milei made his characteristic gesture: looking at the camera in a swoop, pouting and both fists with raised thumbs facing each other in the shape of an ‘L.’ This unmistakable gesture is not only performed with those who ask him for a selfie, but with anyone who is portrayed with him, be it someone from his party, a close collaborator, a leader of a friendly political force, a journalist, a trade union leader, whoever is immortalised with his figure. This gesture is equivalent to an autograph signature that makes his authenticity clear. It already indicates that he is not just another politician, but an artist, a star who is indebted to his public.
In addition to his character, Javier Milei possesses fearsome rhetorical skill, an unprejudiced style, a clear, hopeful and tough message. He brings together freshness, passion, and illusion in an amalgam of explosive aesthetics, topped with a personal image that is his hallmark in the street and with the people: a black leather jacket and tousled hair. And this is not a pretence; clearly it is something that comes naturally to him. His image is closer to that of a rock star than that of an Austrian School economist. It is clear that Milei is a right-wing politician of this century who breaks with the fossilised archetype of the old fogey
Milei, as a good artist, also plays the character of the politician, because he does not consider himself one of them. For him, politicians constitute a truly privileged caste, a caste that plundered the Argentines and shared out the country’s wealth like booty. Milei, as he has stated on numerous occasions, is an “outsider,” he is not a professional politician and is not part of the caste. Milei is something else, a mass phenomenon and a leader who is not afraid to call a spade a spade. He courageously says what millions of his compatriots would also like to say, not just hear. This courage is also another of the elements that indicate that he is the one who can turn around the catastrophe that his country is currently experiencing: “Today the reconstruction of Argentina begins,” he said as soon as he won the presidential elections, restoring hope to a majority that had been silenced.
It is curious that just over two years ago Milei was unknown. His movement, La Libertad Avanza, was not born out of the mainstream political parties and therefore did not have state funding or media support. No, it grew out of a small core of close collaborators, such as his sister Karina and Victoria Villaroel, and the enthusiasm of his activists. His charisma did the rest. Thus was born the Milei phenomenon, a mass movement around the strength of his personality, his spontaneity, his transgressive appearance, and, above all, his closeness to the people. A very Argentinean phenomenon, a mixture of rocker and footballer, a synthesis of two of the country’s most popular passions and of two of his life experiences before devoting himself to classical economics: he was goalkeeper at Club Atlético Chacarita Juniors and front-man of Everest, a rock cover band of Rolling Stones songs. Football and rock, rebellion and freedom, he had everything to conquer the hearts of a people yearning for liberation, in need of a final healing catharsis that would put an end to decades of decadence. Temperament, an unprejudiced attitude, clarity, strength, forcefulness and image. The formula could not fail, and so it has not.
The images of his interventions on television, his campaign events, his massive caravans touring the nation from north to south, from east to west in the poorest and most marginalised neighbourhoods—historical territories of clientelist Peronism, his private electoral hunting grounds—flooded social media networks. The symbol of the chainsaw mowing down the wastefulness of public spending and corruption, to the rhythm of rock music, accompanies his electoral campaign staging. The shovel, another symbolic instrument of his ideology, he proposes to pick up again to recover the culture of work lost through decades of subsidies (known as plans) in exchange for votes for the Kirchnerist bosses. Ideology and show, ideas and spectacle are combined in a novel political proposal that breaks with the disenchantment and sclerosis of perks that left its people and the country that was once the so-called “breadbasket of the world” in misery and at the tail end of development and economic growth worldwide.
In spite of the enthusiasm generated, no one expected the surprise of the Mandatory and Simultaneous Open Primary Elections (PASO), in which he became the most voted pre-candidate for the presidential election. His victory set off alarm bells for the regime and the media in its service and, as has happened in so many other countries, unleashed an atrocious fear campaign against Milei. He has been accused of the most bizarre personal and ideological matters. The lies have not worked. The propaganda apparatus of the state merged with Peronism has failed. With Milei, demonisation did not work: direct contact with ordinary Argentines neutralised it. Almost 14.5 million Argentines opted for the proposals of the libertarian liberal, almost 12 points ahead of the ruling party led by Sergio Massa.
What has been the key to his success? It is always said that the key to populism is its transversality, its ability to reach different social strata and to reach the victims of the system, of globalisation or, in this case, of ‘Kirchnerato,’ which is how Eduardo Feimann defines the despotic regime installed in Argentina. And in Argentina, the victims are legion: the workers who live in precarious conditions with 140% inflation; the small traders and businessmen suffocated by abusive taxes; the remnants of an increasingly impoverished middle class; those who suffer from the social disorder brought about by organised crime and drug trafficking; those who are fed up with the corruption and impunity of the political class; the poor and the marginalised who represent 50% of the Argentine population.
All those who do not live off the party system or its subsidies, and all of them have seen in Milei a hope of salvation, a last attempt to avoid falling into the abyss and to make Argentina great again. For this reason, the vote for Milei was not a doctrinaire vote for libertarianism, minarchism, or anarcho-capitalism, but neither was it a vote for punishment; it was a vote for survival. Ordinary Argentines have had enough and have found in Milei a compatriot willing to take the bull by the horns.
The journalist Marcelo Bonelli asked Javier Milei a very direct question on Argentine television, “Are you a madman?” Milei replied: “The difference between a genius and a madman is success.” The truth is that only a ‘madman’ would have dared to take the steps that Milei has taken, and for many his proposals are just that: sheer madness. Tolkien once said that it is wise to recognise necessity, even if it may seem like insanity to those who harbour false hopes. Argentina is in need of radical change, an alternative that will put an end to the snake oil sold by its political caste and to the endless cycle of economic, social and political crises, recurrently repeated like Sisyphus’ condemnation to climb a rock to the top of a mountain from where it would fall of its own weight again and again.
“Hear, Mortals, the sacred cry: Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” These are the first two stanzas of the Argentine National Anthem. Three times that value is repeated, that natural faculty of man, that higher ontological value that defines the human person and that also cries out from the motto of the libertarian economist. Viva la Libertad, carajo! can already be heard loud and clear like the roar of a lion’s pride.
José Papparelli is a journalist and analyst of political, social, and cultural life. Writer for various Spanish, European, and Latin American media, he is the director of the radio program “Una Hora En Libertad.”
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