RAILWAY DEVELOPMENT IN THE REPUBLIC
The place Argentina holds in the world is due to the meat and wheat it
sends to other lands. But having recognised its fecundity as a good
food-producing area, it is well to start at the beginning. Argentina may
have had fine grazing tracks capable of rearing untold millions of
cattle and arable land that had only to be scratched to yield excellent
crops of cereals; but without transport values are at a minimum.
Accordingly, the development and prosperity of the Argentine is mainly
due to railways. The sum of £300,000,000 British capital is invested in
Argentine railways and electric tramways.
I travelled a good deal in the Republic, from Buenos Aires to Inca in
the Andes, and from Tucuman in the north to Bahia Blanca in the south. I
journeyed over hundreds of miles of flat, featureless, dreary country
that grew nothing but wild grasses until a few years ago. And there are
plenty of sandy, bush-studded, alkali-stricken acres--just as you find
barren patches in the United States, Canada, Siberia, and Australia--but
there are thousands of leagues awakened into life, _estancias_ with
great herds of cattle munching at the alfalfa, stretches of wheat and
maize, on and on, as though without end, the only break on the horizon
being the colonist's mud hut, a clump of trees--and it always seems the
same clump of trees--which indicates a ranch, and the ever-whirring
American water-wheel. As you travel through England it is the spires of
churches that pierce the sky. The only thing that ever pierces the sky
on the Argentine pampas is the zinc American water-wheel. The Argentine
_estanciero_ thinks a water-wheel is of more use to him than a church.
All over this land, zigzagging, curving, intersecting, sometimes running
in an absolutely straight line for a hundred and fifty miles, is the
greatest length of railway lines in the world for a population of seven
millions. The towns are far apart; villages are few. You journey half a
day, and, except at the little wayside stations, do not see more than
half a dozen folk on the land. Yet it is a smiling land, and greets the
sunshine with abundance. The railways in the Argentine are to garner
this wealth. Freight trains, with cars of the colossal American pattern,
trundle their long length across the plains.
I recall one night when, at a forgotten siding, the engine drew out to
get water, taking a saunter along the train side. It was brilliantly lit
with electricity, and the restaurant car, with the usual little
red-shaded lamps on the tables, was busy; crowds of passengers were
dining, and the usual waiters were scurrying, and there was the usual
Continental fare, and champagne and Moselle wines, and the usual mineral
waters you get on the Nord express. That gleaming train in central
South America was the symbol of what railway enterprise has done in
Argentina.
There are 20,000 miles of railroads in the Republic. The British showed
the way in the initial building, and their lines pass through some of
the fattest territory. The French have been tardy followers, but have
constructed useful minor lines. The Argentine Government has built State
lines through country that was suitable for colonisation, but which did
not appeal to the outside investor. These State railways are financially
a failure. One reason is that the territory through which they run is
not of the best. The principal reason is that they are the prey of the
politicians. Constituencies have to be considered, and innumerable jobs
found for the hangers-on of political parties. Business conditions are
the last to be thought of, and, though the Government has done well in
throwing these lines into distant regions needing development, they are
not likely to succeed until placed under different control.
Not only have the Argentines themselves not started railway companies,
but they have no money invested in the foreign companies. One cause is
that, though the Government insists on a local board of directors, the
real board of directors is abroad, chiefly in London. Another cause is
that dividends are limited by law to 7 per cent., and that is not a
sufficient return for the Argentine. He does not care to touch
investments that do not yield 12 per cent., and when he gets 30 per
cent. he thinks that about fair--and the country is so prosperous it can
afford it.
Although within the last fifteen years millions of British money have
poured into Argentina for railway construction, the investor in the old
days cast a hesitating eye on South America as a place to sink his
capital. In the 'fifties a railway a few miles long was all that
Argentina could boast, and ten years later, when 7 per cent. was
guaranteed, money was not forthcoming. As an inducement to construct a
line between Rosario and Cordoba the absolute ownership of three miles
on either side of the line was offered. Even with such an attraction the
British investor was shy.
Gradually, however, money was forthcoming, and lines were laid. In the
'eighties there came a spurt. It was not till the years following 1900
that money could be had for the asking. Lines cobwebbed the profitable
country; distant points were linked up; land which previously had little
beyond prairie value bounced up in price.
[Illustration: CENTRAL ARGENTINE RAILWAY COMPANY'S GRAIN ELEVATORS AT
BUENOS AIRES.]
Though to-day there is a thought in the public mind that a little too
much money has been thrown into Argentina, that land prices are too
inflated--which they are--I have traversed districts which three years
ago were wilderness; but a spur of railway has been driven into them,
and instantly farming has been started. I saw hundreds of freshly-built
homesteads--crude, and the life harsh, but it was the beginning of
great things--and alfalfa had been laid down, and cattle were feeding,
and wide spaces which previously were sandy and apparently inhospitable
were carpeted with the bright green of new wheat. Just as in Canada
there is a belief that the breaking up of the land had decreased the
severity of the frost, so there is a belief in Argentina that rains
follow the plough. Places which formerly had little rainfall, and which
had a doubtful agricultural future, are proving successful. Yet without
the advance of railways the country would have been as forlorn as when
the Indians roved the pampas.
Railway companies in England have had to fight landowners to make
headway. In Argentina landowners welcome the coming of a railway, for
obvious reasons. Most of the wealthy Argentines owe their fortunes to
their land being benefited by the railways. As a rule, out in the far
districts, a railway company can get the necessary land for nothing.
Owners are willing to make financial contributions. The general managers
of the big British railways in Argentina get large salaries--£7,000 a
year. This is partly to remove them from the range of temptation of
being bribed by owners, syndicates, or land companies to authorise the
making of railways where they would not be economically advisable. Of
course, extensions near the big towns cost the railways as much as they
would in England. I know a man who thirty years ago bought a piece of
land for £1,600. He sold it to a railway company for over £200,000.
Though foreign capital is having so extensive a run in networking the
country with railways, the Argentine Government has a much closer grip
on the working of the lines than the Board of Trade has on English
companies. It is therefore no misrepresentation to say that, whilst
private owners are glad to have their property enhanced in value by the
juxtaposition of a railway, the Government puts obstacles in the way for
what are ostensibly public reasons. Accordingly, expensive "diplomacy"
has sometimes to be used. The Government is sufficiently aware of the
return the foreign investor gets--and when fresh extensions are sought
it invariably withholds its consent until some concession has been wrung
out of the company, such as an undertaking to construct a line through a
district that cannot, for some time at any rate, be a success. There is
never any guarantee that another company will not be formed to work the
same district. The Government smiles at the fight between the two lines
for traffic--to the public benefit. When companies propose to amalgamate
the Government either makes such demands in regard to uneconomic lines
that the thing falls through or a veto is put upon the amalgamation
altogether.
Perhaps it is due to the excellence of the railways that the Argentine
high roads are so bad. And frankly, though I know most of the new lands
of the world, I know of no region where the country roads are so
villainous as in this Republic. Rarely are they anything beyond mother
earth. In wet weather they are quagmires, and I have seen vehicles
stranded, unable to be hauled by a team of five horses. In summer, when
rain is absent, they are foot-deep furrows of dust. I shall never forget
a motor excursion through the sugar plantations round about Tucuman. The
way was like a magnified ploughed field, and all the ridges were of
dust. We drove through it as an engine drives through snow.
All railway material comes in duty free, but one of the conditions is
that 3 per cent. of the profits shall be used for the making of roads
leading to railway stations. The companies do not object, because the
call is not large, and it is to their interest that agriculturists
should be able to get their produce to the railway station to be
transported over the lines.
The Direccion-General de Ferrocarriles is the authority over the
railways in Argentina. It decides the number of trains which shall be
run, and it insists on the number of coaches. There must be a certain
number of dormitory cars on all-night trains, and restaurant cars are
obligatory over certain distances. Every train carries a letter-box, and
recently the companies have been squeezed into carrying the mails for
nothing. A medicine chest, a stretcher, a bicycle--so that quick
communication can be made with the nearest station in case of
accident--and all sorts of necessities in case of a breakdown are
compulsory. Every carriage is thoroughly disinfected every month, and
there is always a card to be initialled by an inspector. All bedding and
mattresses are subject to scientific disinfection such as I have seen
nowhere in Europe.
No time-tables can be altered without the sanction of the National
Railway Board at least two months before coming into operation. If
trains stop at stations for which they are not scheduled a heavy fine is
imposed; and all late trains, and the reason, have to be reported to the
Government authority. No alteration, however small, to a station
building or to the design of rolling stock is permissible without the
sanction of the Government representatives. A complaint book is at every
station, open to anyone to complain on any subject. Guards also keep a
book. Many of the complaints are amusing. I heard of one man who
insisted on writing in the complaint book that "everything was in
perfect order and the staff faultless." Occasionally passengers will
have a dispute, and whilst one will find fault in the complaint book
with the manners of the train attendants, another will write beneath
that the attendants are all right, and it is the complainant's manners
which are at fault.
There are the usual buffers in front of an engine; but they are all
hinged, and have to be hoisted backwards when a train is travelling,
because if an animal were run into, the cow-catcher might not be able to
throw the beast aside, for it could be caught between the catcher and
the protruding buffer. Though, on the face of it, the Government
subjects the companies to innumerable restrictions, and frequently
imposes vexatious regulations, it must be recognised that public safety
is the thought behind them all.
[Illustration: LATEST TYPE OF PASSENGER LOCOMOTIVE.]
[Illustration: LATEST TYPE OF DINING CAR.]
The Republic lives by its exports of meat and agricultural produce.
Ninety-five per cent. of this trade is carried to the ports by the
railways. From the railroad cars one beholds productiveness; yet fifteen
or twenty miles away lies land just as productive but as yet untouched
by the plough, because there is neither sufficient population to
cultivate nor railways to carry. Within the next dozen years there must
inevitably be a further spurt in the making of feeding or auxiliary
lines. Something like £20,000,000 a year is crossing the ocean for fresh
railway enterprises in Argentina. Nearly 40,000,000 tons of goods are
carried over the lines each year, and the receipts are something like
£25,000,000 annually. And yet but a fragment of the harvest of this new
land is being garnered. Its untrodden millions of acres await new
railways to open up the country.