Argentina: We Can Go Home

For the first time in ages, Argentines could talk politics—and smile about it. At last they had an election—and perhaps soon, a bona fide President: Dr. Arturo Umberto Illía, 62, a sometime physician and longtime politico with considerable government experience. On the Buenos Aires Stock Exchange, shares surged upward; the battered peso rallied four points (from 139 to 135 to the dollar), and throughout the country the sensation was one of deep relief and a return of confidence. Even the fractious military seemed content. "We kept our promise to hold elections," said a colonel as he headed for his estancia in the countryside. "Now our job is done, and we can go home."

Surprises All Around. That was stretching it some. Violence and confusion have been the country's unhappy lot ever since the military toppled Arturo Frondizi 16 months ago and installed Puppet President José Maria Guido in his place. As the once prosperous land of grain and meat fell into economic chaos (the cost of living soared 50% last year), the military promised constitutional elections and a return to democracy. But the soldiers could not agree on when to hold elections, or how much democracy to allow the 3,000,000 followers of exiled Dictator Juan Perón. Twice these arguments erupted into shooting between rival wings of the Perón-hating armed forces; twice the promised elections were postponed.

The Peronistas tried to mollify the military by agreeing to form a popular front with Frondizi's Intransigent Radical party. At the last minute, the front found most of its choices for the electoral college disqualified by the army. From his exile in Madrid, Perón told his followers that since they were legally required to vote, they should cast blank ballots; under house arrest in the Argentine mountain resort town of Bariloche, Frondizi did the same. Together, they were supposed to control 40% of the voters.

Expecting trouble, the military posted 70,000 troops at polls around the country on election day. But, to the surprise of most everybody, there were no incidents—and nothing like 40% blank ballots. Weary of living in political limbo and anxious to participate again in the democratic process, many regarded as Peronistas or followers of Frondizi cast their ballots for other candidates. Of some 10 million votes, only 17% were blank. Dr. Arturo Illía, whose middle-reading party calls itself the People's Radicals, wound up with 27% of the total, worth 169 electoral votes. Dr. Oscar Alende, leading an anti-Frondizi wing of the ex-President's party, mustered 17% (for 109 electoral votes). Retired Army General Pedro Eugenio Aramburu, provisional President after Perón's downfall, got 15% (for 43 electoral votes).

From Spain, Perón called the election a "farce" and warned: "A period of hard fighting in which violence must be the norm has just begun." But in Buenos Aires, the betting was that Illia and the No. 2 man, Alende, would join forces to give Illia the 238-vote majority he needs when the electoral college meets on July 31. They are then expected to form a coalition government that the country would accept.