Jacobo Timerman

[from Jacobo Timerman's Prisoner Without a Name, Cell Without a Number, tr. Toby Talbot, Knopf, 1981]

Borges remarked, some thirty years ago, that the Argentine is not a citizen but an inhabitant: that he lacks an idea of the nation where he resides, but views it as a territory which, owing to its wealth, can be exploited rapidly.

To my mind, this is a noteworthy comment on the Argentine problem. Nothing simple: Argentina as an entity does not yet exist; it must be created. But were I to assess how each of the diverse Argentinas existing at present within that territory — each regarding itself as the authentic one — would interpret Borges's definition, that would provide a more descriptive and precise response, something akin to a French pointillistic canvas.

1. If Borges were to comment on his own definition, he would say that the Argentines' error stems from their inadequate understanding of ancient Germanic literature. Borges would claim that it's impossible to create a citizen unless he has read the books of the Veda or at least the Egyptian Mummy's Prayer, which is recited prior to one's admittance as a sacred mummy — in the French version rendered by the Lithuanian poet Lubicz Milosz. Borges would say (in fact, he has said) that "Democracy is an abuse of statistics." In the end, he himself might not understand, or attempt to understand, the value of his own definition.

2. Right-wing sectors would accept Borges's remark as an absolute truth, claiming that it was the flood of immigrants that was responsible for the destruction of the roots implanted by the Spanish monarchy — those Hispanic roots of the noble Bourbons and of Franco — immigrants who came merely to get rich, to "make" America. It was they who prevented consolidation of a notion of citizenry.

3. Liberal sectors would accept Borges's remark as an absolute truth, claiming that it was the incapacity of the Argentine ruling class to understand the immigrant phenomenon — with all its contributions to creativity, culture, the republican and democratic spirit, its impulse toward civic activity, the struggle for human rights and man's equality — and, specifically, the battle of the ruling aristocratic groups against unlimited immigrant access to every level of Argentine life, above all political life, that has prevented national consolidation, and hence the creation of an Argentine citizenry.

4. Leftist sectors would accept Borges's remark as an absolute truth, claiming that a man can only genuinely feel that he's a citizen within a Socialist nation, and therefore no bourgeois nation can expect its inhabitants to share any possible common interests.

5. Fascist sectors would accept Borges's remark as an absolute truth, claiming that citizens exist only when a central power organizes them as such, and that it is precisely that central power, which is required to give explanations to no one, that is lacking in Argentina.

I could go on indefinitely, covering the vagaries of the infinite number of ideologies, scattered throughout Argentina. Each would accept Borges's statement as a logical, coherent explanation. That, of course, would be their only point of agreement.

Does this in any way clarify the Argentine drama? This vignette revolving around Borges, and closely resembling a Borges story, is actually a perfect embodiment of Argentina's capacity for violence, as well as its political incapacity. What is more, it reveals that only nations capable of creating a political environment that embraces multiple political solutions for any situation are able to escape Argentina's violence. No one is immune to episodes of violence and terrorism; yet it should be possible at least to avoid a situation in which terrorism and violence are the sole creative potential, the sole imaginative, emotional, erotic expression of a nation.