CHAPTER XVII

THE SPIRIT OF THE COUNTRY

There is a sense in which the spirit of a country must show itself in any

honest description of its life and character. The preceding chapters of

this book have dealt with so many and varied aspects of Argentine life

that the reader should have been able to take in from these something

at least of the spirit of the country: perhaps as much as can be made

manifest in any specialised treatment of the subject. Yet I feel the

attempt should be made to disengage from the tangle of ideas and

impressions created in the mind by close observation of the ways of a

people some orderly estimate of its “spirit.”

I remember very well on our taking the river steamer from Montevideo for

the night journey to Buenos Ayres, after transshipping from the ocean

liner, that an Anglo-South-American, who had been a fellow voyager, said

it would be amusing to watch the demeanour of the Argentines on board,

as we should be able to distinguish them from the general mass by their

swaggering walk, their bumptious manners, and sartorial affectations. And

that evening, while the passengers were thronging aboard, it did seem as

though he spoke truth, so many answered to his description; evidently

all of them Argentines returning to Buenos Ayres at the close of the

Montevidean season.

These fellows strutted about the saloon and paraded the deck of the

steamer with a splendid air of proprietorship, while the grossly

offensive manner of the stewards, who treated the passengers with a lofty

contempt, and a calm indifference to their wants, gave one an extremely

bad first impression of Argentine manners. Nevertheless this was no true

sample. The traveller who allows such evidences as these to prejudice

him against a whole people is hardly a trained observer. If a foreigner

were to judge the British people by many of the specimens I have myself

encountered abroad, he would draw an extremely unflattering picture of

them as a nation. Swagger there is and to spare, among the Argentines,

and boastfulness of their national progress is only to be expected in a

young people whose international experience is still far from complete,

but that these are essentials of the Argentine spirit, I would have no

one believe.

Truer would it be to say that the spirit of the Argentine—that intangible

something which permeates a whole people and marks them off from

others—can best be discovered in walking about the streets, mingling

with the throng, listening to the casual remarks of passers-by. You

will notice, not once or twice, but scores of times in any day—that

is, if you notice anything—the curious habit of men in conversation

rubbing together the forefinger and thumb of the right hand. This is

expressive of money. One of the curiosities of the Spanish language is

the extraordinary amount of gesture which usually goes with it; people

commonly, when referring to themselves, tap the breast to emphasise the

personal pronoun; when speaking of having seen something, they will

point to the eyes, or to the mouth, if they wish to convey some notion

either of speech or silence. In the same way, the Argentine seldom

mentions _plata_ (money) without this rubbing of the forefinger and

thumb, suggestive remotely; suppose, of the counting out of coins. He

who christened the Rio de la Plata made a happier hit than he could have

suspected, for plata lies close to the heart of every citizen of Buenos

Ayres, and you have never to listen many minutes to a casual conversation

in the street without hearing mention of it. “He has given so many pesos

per yard for the land.” “Fancy selling it for a thousand pesos and having

bought it only eighteen months ago at three hundred and fifty!” “He has

lots of money—_tiene mucha plata_.” “He is asking too much money.” “I

have offered so many pesos.” These, and such phrases, one overhears at

every turn, and might well suppose that the spirit of the country was

exclusively associated with the getting of money.

Still would that be a wrong conclusion, just as I believe it would be

unfair to the country as a whole to judge of it by the sham and shoddy

of Buenos Ayres and its great cities, or by the primitive and low social

conditions of the smaller towns. We must look elsewhere for that “spirit”

of which we are in search. The Jockey Club will not help us. No, it will

tend rather to confirm the impression of the peacocketing passengers on

board the river steamer. Congreso itself will help but little. There we

shall find the “grafter,” the place seeker, the dishonest politician,

just as eminently successful as in the United States, and who would

allow that the real spirit of the United States disengaged itself in

Congress or from the political groups at Washington?

Again, a friend of mine, having important business with the municipality

of a provincial town, had to call upon the _intendente_ with reference

to the signing of certain documents, which formality was only possible

after the mayor’s secretary had pocketed several hundred pounds of

backsheesh, and the mayor himself had named his price for his signature.

The intendente’s daughter, a young woman of seventeen years of age,

singularly handsome, happened to be in the room at the beginning of the

interview, and my friend may have looked upon her with some evidence of

admiration, for when she left her father remarked to him:

“Fine little girl, my Manuelita, eh? She’ll make good meat for the

beasts!”

On a later visit in connection with the same undertaking, the daughter

was not present, but the accommodating mayor blandly asked my friend if

he would care to see his little daughter, as he rather thought he admired

her,—a fatherly suggestion which was respectfully declined.

This is typical of many instances I can give (the drift of which needs

no indication), and still I do not wish to quote it or them as eminently

characteristic of the spirit of the country.

No more do I wish to maintain that the secretary of the said mayor, a

quite humble functionary with an official salary of $150 a month, who

lives at the rate of nearly $15,000 a year and is understood to be

growing wealthy (having a brother a judge, he can secure for any one a

favourable verdict for a definite fee, even to acquittal for murder!) is

a gentleman in whom the spirit of the country shines radiantly. Many such

as he there are growing rich by foulest methods of corruption, polluting

justice and public life by their every action, yet without losing the

esteem of their fellow citizens.

Rather would I instance the children’s fondness for balloons, which one

notices everywhere, as more in tune with the spirit of the country! Every

day at certain hours a man will be seen bustling down Calle Florida with

some hundreds of penny balloons inflated with gas, taking them to one

of the large drapery establishments, where each customer may receive

a balloon as a present. During the afternoon, mothers and nurses and

children innumerable will be seen about the streets with their balloons.

It is indeed _un país de niños_—a land of children! Yes, after reviewing

all the various manifestations of the national spirit, down to its love

of the morbid, its revelling in stories and scenes of crime, its lack of

humour, I am persuaded that most representative is this childishness.

Perhaps it is because the Argentines are children at heart that they are

so lacking in the sense of humour. Children are notoriously humourless,

though they may be the cause of infinite humour in others. The keen

relish of life’s lighter side comes with advancing years. So with young

nations. The Argentine is not old enough yet to have developed the sense

of humour; it is still seriously young. But with this youth it also has

that wonder sense which is the privilege of all youth, and just as the

sand-built castles of the children by the sea shore are to them more

wonderful than the Pyramids of Egypt, so are all things in his republic

to the Argentine.

[Illustration: GENERAL VIEW OF THE CITY OF MONTEVIDEO AND THE RIVER

PLATE.]

Most of the corruption which exists in public life is due to the

participation of foreigners therein; Italians chiefly. That will pass.

The nation is young and is gradually adjusting its perspective. The

boastfulness of the younger generation, so irritating to the visitor who

is prepared to admire all that is worthy of admiration in the Republic,

is another fault of youth. It too will pass. The young Argentine who

to-day talks of his country as a great empire of the future, dominating

not only the Western hemisphere, but influencing profoundly the whole

civilised world of the future, is still _bien jeune_. He will grow older,

and his vision of the wonders that may be shall grow dimmer.

Remains the fact that eminent among the public men of the Argentine are

many of supreme ability and integrity. Rather let us think of them than

of the baser sort. They are the true patriots, and they also once were

young. I have read many speeches and articles by such publicists as Dr.

Luís María Drago, Dr. E. S. Zeballos, Dr. Quesada, Dr. Ramos-Mexía,

and Dr. David Peña, (all doctors of law, the use of such degrees being

universal) to mention a few only of the scores of names that one might

muster, worthy to rank with the best expressions of modern statesmanship.

With these leaders, and such as these, the Argentine is not only assured

of material progress, but intellectually equipped for a future which

will see the abolition of innumerable abuses that darken its public life

to-day. The spirit of the country is the spirit of youth, and youth, as

we know, has its faults. But there is “no fool like an old fool,” and the

old nation that is wedded to its folly is of human institutions ever the

most hopeless.

Such follies as we can detect in abundance in the Argentine are either

the immediate follies of youth, or corrupting influences imported from

Europe. For my part, I am persuaded that the people as a whole constitute

a nation in earnest. With their heart set on progress, small wonder if

its material forms should first engage them, but there is no lack of

forces making for better things, and if at the moment too many of the

younger generation of Argentine writers seem to have fallen under the

spell of the French decadent school, that, too, will prove no more than

a passing phase. There is a far finer appreciation of literature, an

infinitely more important body of national literature, in the Argentine

than in Australia or in Canada. And there is a certain veneration for

old things and ancient culture, not usually consonant with the spirit

of youth. Even the United States have not yet entirely emerged from

that condition of youthful disrespect inseparable from great material

progress in a young country. In the Argentine one finds a very remarkable

degree of admiration for the fine old things of Spanish civilisation.

Spain was a harsh mother to her, yet she is remembered as the mother,

and her harshness as that of _la madre pátria_. Her glorious literature

has the profoundest admiration of the Argentine. Still, the Argentine is

never blind to the failings of Spain and the conditions of his national

life having tended to put a finer edge on his wits than those of the

Spaniard can boast, he is always ready to assert his independence. A good

instance of this is furnished by an anecdote of a well-known Buenos Ayres

_abogado_ who was present at a lecture by the eminent Spanish novelist,

Señor Blasco Ibáñez, when the latter declared, in alluding to the Spanish

colonisation of South America and the West Indies, that Spain, after

having given to the world sixteen children, was now exhausted. The acute

Argentine lawyer retorted:

“That may be so, but England has had more children than Spain; among them

the United States, India, and Australia; and after each new birth she has

gone forward acquiring new strength, and greater force.”

The Republic may thus be said to look towards the motherland for her

culture, but to the Anglo-Saxons for social ideals. She has probably

looked more than she has followed. She is essentially a child of Spain,

still young, but entirely independent of her mother, with much character

of her own and a willingness to emulate good examples. For “a land of

children,” these are surely conditions that will make for greatness when

it has grown up.

The real Argentine: Notes and Impressions of a Year in the Argentine and Uruguay · 第 17 / 22 章