THEY SHOULD
be a perfect match, like a steak and a glass of Malbec. Argentina has
fertile land and skilled farmers. China has 1.4bn mouths to feed.
Bilateral trade should be sizzling. But Argentine policy is so erratic
that China is often left asking: where’s the beef?
Sometimes,
literally. In 2018 China opened its market to Argentine beef. At first,
trade boomed. However, in 2021 Argentina slapped a beef-export ban on
itself. “The Chinese couldn’t believe it,” recalls Patricio Giusto of
the China-Argentina Observatory, a think-tank.
The
convoluted logic went like this. Domestic meat prices were rising,
upsetting barbecue-loving Argentines. President Alberto Fernández
reasoned that if he stopped foreigners from wolfing Argentine beef,
there would be more for domestic consumers. The ban did little to curb
inflation, which is now nearly 100%
year on year and mostly caused by the government’s frenzied
money-printing. But the export ban gored Argentine farmers and
infuriated their Chinese customers.
Cleverer
engagement would yield huge benefits. Argentina desperately needs
capital; China has deep pockets. China craves minerals; Argentina has
mountains of them. Rather than exploit those economic opportunities,
Argentina’s current government of prickly left-leaning Peronists has
given priority to political and diplomatic ties with China, which alarms
the United States. A more pragmatic one would seek to get along well
with both big powers, while taking full advantage of the way the
Argentine and Chinese economies complement each other. Argentina’s next
national election, due in October, may bring such a government to power.
In
recent decades the economic relationship between Argentina and China
has burgeoned. Bilateral trade has increased from $2.3bn in 2001 to
$26bn last year. Several big Chinese investment projects have been
announced. More than half of the 62 loans doled out by Chinese
commercial banks in Latin America between 2007 and 2021 have gone to
Argentina, according to the Inter-American Dialogue, a think-tank in
Washington (see chart). Most of this has taken place since 2015. A
branch of ICBC, China’s biggest commercial bank, dominates the skyline near the presidential palace in Buenos Aires.
Lately,
though, progress has stalled. Wherever Argentina has a comparative
advantage, the Fernández government erodes it. The total ban on beef
exports has gone, but bans remain on seven popular cuts of beef, such as
short ribs. Crops are whacked with export taxes ranging from 7% (for
sunflower oil) to a crushing 33% for soya. This discourages investment
and costs Argentina a fortune. If it had halfway sensible policies it
could add $25bn a year to grain and oilseed exports within a decade,
estimates David Miazzo of Fada, a think-tank. That is equivalent to 5%
of today’s GDP. But the government is desperate for short-term cash, and shiploads of grain are hard to hide and easy to tax.
Chinese
investments that generate headlines often run into trouble. A year ago
China announced an $8bn deal to build a nuclear power plant near Buenos
Aires. It was eager to show off its Hualong One nuclear technology,
which so far produces power only in China itself. It also hoped to lock
Argentina into the kind of long-term relationship that nuclear projects
require.
The problem is that Argentina
cannot afford the price tag (which with interest could add up to $13bn,
estimates Julian Gadano, a former energy official). Its net foreign
reserves are a mere $2.5bn, according to Econviews, a consultancy.
Argentina owes more than any other country to the IMF,
and is trying to secure another lifeline. Having renegotiated the
nuclear project several times, Argentina is begging Chinese lenders to
cover 100% of the cost, up from 85%. The project “is not going to
happen”, predicts Mr Gadano.
In
2014, during the presidency of Cristina Fernández de Kirchner (who is
now the country’s vice-president), Argentina borrowed $4.7bn from three
Chinese state-owned banks to build two hydroelectric dams in Santa Cruz,
Ms Fernández’s political stronghold. Interest payments are now a big
drain on the budget, and the dams have yet to produce any electricity.
Last year Chinese firms seemed well placed to win a contract to build a
pipeline to Buenos Aires for gas from Vaca Muerta, one of the world’s
largest deposits of shale gas and oil. But after some wrangling, they
abandoned the bidding. In 2020 Sinopec, a Chinese oil giant, pulled out
of Argentina after squabbles with labour unions.
The
incentive to invest in energy is dulled by price controls. Households
pay hardly anything for electricity and waste it copiously. Power cuts
are common.
Regardless of their line
of business, “Chinese firms have the same problems as all companies that
want to invest in Argentina,” says Gerardo Morales, the governor of
Jujuy province. In addition to high inflation investors must contend
with currency controls, which make it hard to repatriate profits. A
system of multiple exchange rates (there are at least a dozen for the
dollar) causes confusion and distortion. Exporters must surrender their
dollars at the official rate, which is roughly half what they are worth.
The government allocates cut-price hard currency in a process riddled
with graft. Special rates apply to such things as rock concerts (the
“Coldplay” rate) and streaming services (the “Netflix” rate). Chinese
firms find it hard to operate in a country where policy changes
direction as often and unpredictably as a football at Lionel Messi’s
feet.
Argentina seems more interested
in being China’s ally than its supplier. Vice-President Fernández (no
relation to her nominal boss) recently gushed that China was the “most
successful capitalist system”. China plays up similarities between
Taiwan and the Falkland islands, a British territory that Argentina
claims. (One parallel it does not mention is that the Falkland
islanders, like the Taiwanese, have no desire to be ruled by their
bigger neighbour.)
Many of Argentina’s
recent ventures with China are long on political symbolism and short on
economic substance. Some of these have irked the United States. Last
year Mr Fernández announced that Argentina would join the Belt and Road
Initiative, a Chinese global infrastructure scheme. The agreement
included no new financial commitments. China has built a space
observatory in Patagonia, which it claims is purely for scientific
purposes—the far-southern latitude gives it a view of the cosmos
unavailable from China. Others suspect it is spying; unlike a similar
European observatory, China’s is closed to outsiders and staffed by
military folk. In September the governor of Tierra del Fuego, on the tip
of Argentina, offered his province as “the gateway” for China to
Antarctica, with a logistics base for ships.
The
Fernández administration may have underestimated how hostile the United
States has recently become towards China, and how determined it is to
prevent China from gaining a foothold in its hemisphere. Anything that
looks like Chinese military activity in the region is sure to infuriate
any American administration. Although Argentina is not like the
dictatorships in Cuba or Venezuela, which the United States regards as
foes, some hotheads in Washington suggest it is heading that way. On
February 28th María Elvira Salazar, an American legislator, claimed that
Argentina had struck a deal with China to build Chinese warplanes in
Argentina. She called it “a pact with the devil that could have
consequences of biblical proportions”. The Argentine government said
there was no such plan.
Although the
Peronists are suspicious of the government in Washington, they do not
want to alienate it, not least because support from the IMF
depends on American goodwill. They have begun to walk back from the
deals with China to which the United States most objects. Argentina now
says it will build the maritime base in Tierra del Fuego with its own
money, which means it is unlikely to happen. An Argentine plan to buy
Chinese fighter jets was cancelled in December; Argentina may now buy
vintage American jets instead, if it can find the money.
Frustrated
with Argentina’s central government, some Chinese investors are dealing
directly with provincial governments. Governor Morales in Jujuy has
made multiple trips to China. Jujuy’s arid soil is little use for
farming, but it has sunshine and minerals. A solar park at Cauchari,
built high on an altiplano (plateau) with Chinese money and
technology, yields enough electricity for 160,000 homes. A nearby $852m
Sino-Argentine lithium project is expected to start producing the metal,
used in electric-car batteries, this year. Mr Morales says Argentina
has “great opportunities…in a world hungry for food and energy”. It
would receive “far greater investment flows” if it scrapped capital
controls and had only one exchange rate.
A ray of hope in Jujuy
The
election in October is expected to bring in a government with saner
economic policies, which ought to help Argentina’s commercial relations
with China. It may also be less willing than the Peronists are to
promote China’s ambitions in the western hemisphere. “We are democratic
and believe in human rights. We don’t [share the Chinese] vision of the
world,” says a senior member of the opposition. But economically, “they
need what we have, and we should take advantage of that, [by exporting]
minerals and food.” Mr Giusto agrees. Uruguay, Argentina’s
better-governed neighbour, maintains excellent relations with the United
States and good ones with China, he notes. It exports beef and behaves
predictably.
China’s communist regime
may grumble if Argentina elects a government that is less friendly to
its strategic aims and closer to the United States. But if that makes
Argentina’s economic policy less wacky, Chinese investors may quietly
welcome it. ■