The Latin American
paradox has always astonished me. United by geography with two of
the world's most successful nations, blessed with natural resources
of every kind, lacking racial, religious, or language differences
giving rise to serious violence, and with an extraordinary culture
characterized by its diversity and by its continuity, Latin America
could be a continent of peace, stability, and prosperity. But the
region remains mired in underdevelopment and political
instability.
The political and economic
history of Latin America over the last two centuries is in direct
contrast with that of the United States. The consequences speak for
themselves, as the historian Claudio Véliz points out: “We are in a
New World born at almost the same time to the North and to the
South, settled by two great societies, springing from the two
greatest empires of modern times. One group began poor, in the
North, the other rich, in the South. In 500 years the positions have
entirely reversed.”
The United States
generated a GDP of $12 billion in 1820, by 1900 this had risen to
$313 billion, and to $10 trillion by 2000, all measured in current
money terms. How was this explosion of wealth achieved? In large
measure it is due to the institutions and political philosophy
bequeathed to the United States by the Founding Fathers (Jefferson,
Madison, Hamilton, Adams, Franklin, and Washington among others).
The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of
Rights, and the Federalist Papers are among the great works that
gave such a firm and enduring philosophical, political, moral, and
economic foundation to the newborn nation.
My hypothesis is
that the tragedy of Latin America is the result of its having been
an “orphan continent.” The Liberators—Bolívar, San Martín,
O'Higgins, and Sucre among others—fought heroically to free their
countries from Spanish political control. But it is one thing to
know how to fight and another to govern.
The Liberators (and their
successors) did not anchor the young republics in the values of
individual liberty, did not establish the rule of law, and did not
limit the delegation of authority by the people to their democratic
representatives. On the contrary, they maintained—and in some cases,
further improved on—the Spanish centralizing tradition. Bolívar's
hero, symptomatically, was the authoritarian Napoleon Bonaparte and
not a constitutional president like George Washington. So, Latin
America had Founding Generals rather than Founding Fathers. The
result is that the region lacks, even today, the institutions and
principles of a true democracy in the service of freedom. That is
why progress is so unsteady and so fragile. Like Sisyphus, we push
the rock to the top of the mountain to see time and time again how
it falls back down once more (although not always right back to
where it started).
But the pessimism and
fatalism of so much public discussion in Latin America is not
justifiable. Many people content themselves with (or are resigned
to) the mistaken belief that Latin America will never be able to
find a road to prosperity. To rationalize that belief, they deploy
arguments based on race, climate, terms of trade, Catholicism, and
every type of explanation attributing the blame to someone or
something external.
FREEDOM WORKS
Pessimism over the
future, however, ignores three remarkable experiences of the last 30
years—eloquent signs that freedom does work in Latin America and
that great steps forward can be made.
The first sign is the
great success of the Chilean Revolution. During the 1970s, Chile
managed to transform its most severe 20th-century crisis into an
extraordinary opportunity to create a market-liberal order. Not only
was that revolution the principal cause of the peaceful, gradual,
and constitutional nature of Chile's return to democratic rule in
1990, it is also responsible for Chile's remaining today the most
competitive and prosperous country in Latin America. A recent
comparative study placed Chile ninth in the list of countries
enjoying the greatest degree of economic freedom, the same ranking
as the United Kingdom and Australia. The new economic model allowed
the Chilean economy to grow at 7 percent per annum for more than 12
years, drastically reducing poverty levels and creating a middle
class that has given a remarkable stability to the free-market
economy.
The second sign of
progress is the recent evolution of Mexico. Only 10 years ago Mario
Vargas Llosa characterized Mexico as the “perfect dictatorship.”
Nevertheless, different presidents and advisors—even within such an
imperfect institutional setting—had the vision to start opening the
way for greater freedom in economic, social, and political affairs.
Entry to NAFTA was an inflexion point with highly positive
consequences. Another landmark was the pension reform on the lines
of the Chilean model: in no more than three years, 25 million
Mexican workers acquired a personal retirement savings account and
are becoming owners of financial assets. There is still much to do
to realize the potential of a great country such as Mexico, but it
has started down the road in the direction of an open society.
The third key experience
is the global pensions revolution originating in Latin America. An
experience born in Chile has become a model for the rest of the
world. Today, there are eight countries in Latin America following
this experience, and 50 million workers have accumulated $100
billion in their pension accounts. Three former Iron Curtain
countries (including Poland) have adopted the system of individual
retirement accounts, benefiting an additional 20 million workers.
The idea has now begun to make inroads into developed countries
threatened by serious problems in their state pension systems.
President Bush has said publicly that he wants to introduce the
Chilean system. And recently Sweden, the model welfare state,
adopted personal mini-accounts for retirement savings. Hong Kong,
one of the world's most competitive economies, already has a similar
system in place. If the Swedish and Hong Kong experiments can be
extended in their respective regions (Europe and Asia), and if
President Bush can implement his proposal, then this revolution will
become worldwide. As The Economist stated, “Radical reform of social
security is the next great liberal reform, easily as significant a
change as privatization of state-owned enterprises—also dismissed in
its time as Utopian. On pensions, Latin America has led the way. Let
the world follow” (June 12, 1999).
LIMITED DEMOCRACY AND THE
RULE OF LAW
These three successful experiences
have had a positive impact throughout Latin America. In the decade
of the 1990s, countries of all kinds began to implement free-market
economic reforms and made undeniable progress, generating a better
quality of life for their citizens. During the 1990s, the region's
GDP grew at an average of 3.2 percent per annum, 2.2 percent higher
than was achieved during the 1980s. But these reforms were tarnished
by original sin: they were not fully consistent with each other or
with the domestic institutional and political structures. In my
view, this explains the greater part of the recent setbacks in Latin
America.
Every lover of freedom
values democracy, but not every form of democracy is the same. As
Alexis de Tocqueville's great work Democracy in America maintains,
democracy must always be on its guard against popular despotism. In
Latin America a kind of “tyranny of the majority,” sustained by
demagogy and populism, has led again and again to excessive
government, interventionism, and invasive policies and actions. The
result has been to impoverish civil society and turn government—in
the best of cases—into what Octavio Paz called a “philanthropic
ogre,” and—in the worst—into an ogre at once corrupt, inefficient,
and oppressive.
Unfortunately, Latin
America has followed the opposite course to that of the United
States, as Mariano Grondona has explained in his book Los Pensadores
de la Libertad. In the case of the United States, the economy did
not come first. At the beginning there came men who prized moral
independence. Then those same men demanded a political structure.
Finally, within the framework that structure created for them,
prosperity sprang forth. This is not just a sequence of historical
events, it is the logical progression—for when prosperity happens
first, without a moral or institutional framework, it cannot be
sustained.
So it seems to me to be
essential that a democracy should exist to serve freedom, and that
government should have its powers limited. Democracy is a means of
adopting decisions in those areas where it is necessary to adopt
collective decisions—in effect, a system for deciding “how” a
government should be conducted, not a method for deciding “what” a
government should do. To hand over a blank check to inherently
unstable majorities concerning virtually all the major economic,
social, and political issues of a society is to institutionalize
instability, open the way to more serious abuses, and condemn a
country to underdevelopment. As Frederic Bastiat, the great
19th-century French liberal, would say, the law in those
circumstances is but a step from legalized theft.
How is anyone to make
rational decisions about work, savings, and investment if key
variables—such as taxes, labor legislation, and regulations—can be
altered by 50.01 percent of the citizens through a vote that, in
countries with low levels of education, can almost never be said to
show the characteristics of an “informed vote?” In Latin America, we
see how one day President Hugo Chávez enjoys 80 percent support—and
with it changes the Constitution and legislation—and the next year
his support is halved. In Argentina, President Fernando De la Rúa
triumphs one year, is deeply unpopular the next, and is removed from
office before the end of his constitutional term. Can these
manic-depressive expressions of the “vox populi” be described as the
“vox Dei?” Of course not! To be legitimate, majority rule must
be limited by a constitutional framework that protects life,
liberty, and property. Democracy and freedom can then be mutually
consistent. The United States has been successful largely because it
has adhered to limited government and the rule of law, or what the
visionary F. A. Hayek has called “the constitution of
liberty.”
Some might argue that
U.S. voters are also volatile in their opinions, given that
President Bush won office by the narrowest of margins but now enjoys
much higher approval ratings. That argument is correct, of course,
since human nature is universal. But the crucial difference is that,
even with a high level of popularity, a president or a governing
party cannot alter the U. S. Constitution or the key laws, as a
result of the wise and complex balance of power developed and
institutionalized by the Founding Fathers. The U. S. Constitution is
over 200 years old and is acknowledged by all with enthusiasm and
respect. It begins, “We, the people…” and proceeds to delegate
certain powers to the government in order for it to be able to
protect the freedom, the property, and the safety of the citizens.
Madison, Hamilton, and Jay explain in the Federalist Papers how and
why the federal Constitution provides a sophisticated mechanism to
balance powers between the three branches of government, between the
government and civil society, and between the government and
individuals.
We should be realistic
enough in Latin America to recognize how far we still are from such
a philosophy of limited democracy. Constitutions are frequently
altered in Latin America by means of opaque negotiations among a
clique of leading politicians, who present the final draft as
enjoying popular support. Latin American practice, from the right to
the left, is that those constituting the government, with their
temporary majority, reject the imposition of any limits to their
powers. The economic teams in the Chilean government of the 1970s
and 1980s, and in the Mexican administration in the 1990s, were
exceptions to the Latin American rule.
In addition to
constraining the powers of government, it is essential to limit the
terms of those in office and to create a culture of alternation in
power. Politicians, in general, do not like giving up their power.
But, in Latin America, leaving office is treated as equivalent to
the death penalty. President Carlos Menem, whose first
administration was a real success in Argentina, increased public
spending and introduced populist measures during his second term
because he aspired to an unconstitutional third term. The first
administration of President Alberto Fujimori in Peru was also
successful in some key aspects (like defeating the twin evils of
inflation and terrorism), but when he tried to exercise his mandate
for a third time he corrupted almost all institutions, produced a
dramatic crisis, and ended up a fugitive in exile. President
Fernando Henrique Cardoso spent the last year of his first
administration changing the Brazilian Constitution to allow him to
run again, instead of introducing the pension reform that Brazil so
badly needs (the deficit of its pension system will be equivalent to
5.5 percent of GDP in 2003).
Because there is no real
commitment to the alternation of power, every presidential election
in Latin America is conducted at the expense of the future. The
unhealthy addiction to power leads to a desire to govern with the
aim of staying in office rather than leave a legacy of lasting
achievements. The conditions have to be created for a strong and
independent civil society to develop and consolidate. Governments
have to create a framework of freedom and equity within which
individuals can attain happiness in their own ways. It is not
government's role to try to micro-manage people's lives. Citizens
should enjoy an open playing field in which to seek an unlimited
number of voluntary arrangements and associations to help them in
their quest for happiness. A free, strong, and independent press is
a gauge of the vigor of civil society. Regrettably, in almost every
country in Latin America, the press is too close to power; this
takes many forms, both open and discrete, but generally the press is
not an effective counterbalance to power.
The lesson of history is
that a free economy and civil society cannot prosper without limited
government and the rule of law. In Latin America, inefficiency,
politicization, excessive laws and regulations, and—in some
countries—corruption have undermined the principle of freedom under
the law. The rule of men has repressed the rule of law. The Chinese
wall that should exist between government and the judiciary is
lacking. Even presidents who are trained jurists forget their
principles once in power and fail to resist the temptation to
interfere in judgments—whether on grounds of political expediency or
of personal ambition.
EDUCATION, EDUCATION, EDUCATION
A further key element in
the road to freedom is the pending educational reform in Latin
America. As I have proposed repeatedly elsewhere, the right way
forward is the school choice solution—with competition, private
initiatives, and transparency in supply—not the current
government-educator model. Without a radical improvement in the
quality of education, it will be difficult to attain a
constitutional democracy in the service of
freedom.
Especially serious is the
fact that citizens have an abysmal lack of understanding of
economics. Opinion polls show that most people do not grasp the link
between less flexible labor markets and higher unemployment, nor do
they understand the important role of free markets in creating
prosperity. Consequently, legislators continue to cater to special
interests and take a short-run perspective.
With widespread ignorance
of how a free-market economy works, elections will always be won by
those who propose increased legal privileges for workers, higher
taxes on companies and on “the rich,” higher public spending, and
more subsidies and welfare for interest groups. Perhaps the
undertaking with the highest social returns in Latin America today
would be to create a “Citizen's Prosperity Foundation” whose mission
would be to educate citizens in the fundamental principles of
economics.
TOWARD AN AMERICAN COMMUNITY
A closer relationship
between the United States and Latin America would help considerably
in addressing all these challenges. Let me be clear: I love my own
heritage and way of life. But I also greatly admire the Founding
Fathers who bequeathed to the United States a combination of free
political institutions and a market-liberal economic system that
have created great wealth and a vibrant open society. We do not need
to sacrifice our essential core in order to learn from the U.S.
experience with a constitution of liberty.
The relationship between
the United States and Latin America is changing. NAFTA has been a
spectacular success for Mexico and now Chile has signed a Free Trade
Agreement with the United States. Rather than being the conclusion
of an exercise in becoming closer, I hope it will only be “the end
of the beginning.” There are innumerable initiatives that could
spring from greater trade integration. By a kind of intellectual
osmosis, we can integrate into our own reality a number of basic
economic and political concepts—just as the North Americans will
benefit from learning about our culture and way of life. With 37
million people of Hispanic origin in the United States, the process
is already under way.
My dream is an “American
Community” of independent nations, cherishing their own cultural
identities but joined together in a common market for trade and
investment, and with free movement of people and of ideas. An
American Community would comprise 830 million people and a gross
domestic product of $13 trillion.
We have to dare to dream
once more. As the poet Carl Sandburg said at another critical
moment, “The republic is a dream. But nothing happens unless first a
dream.”
José Piñera is President
of the International Center for Pension Reform and Co-Chairman of
the Cato Institute’s Project on Social Security Choice. As former
Secretary of Labor and Social Security (1978–80) and of Mining
(1981), he successfully privatized Chile's pension system, conceived
the labor laws that introduced flexibility to the Chilean labor
market, and was responsible for the constitutional law that
established private property rights in Chilean
mines.
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