Faces of a Dictator

Ask anyone what the words "totalitarian" or "dictator" mean, and they'll likely associate the words with the 20th century, with some of the darkest deeds of modern Europe. But the words are older than that – dictator comes from the Latin, someone wielding absolute-but-temporary authority – and dictators and totalitarian states are not limited to recent times, or to Europe. Indeed, they can pop up in some unexpected places. 19th-century Argentina is a case in point.

There, a caudillo (strongman) named Juan Manuel de Rosas exercised dictatorial control for nearly a quarter of a century, from 1829 to 1852. He and the government he led were a series of contradictions. A porteño (native of Argentina's main city and port, Buenos Aires), Rosas nonetheless posed as a champion of the rights of the interior provinces. In common with other Latin American states, Argentina saw a struggle for power between centralists (those who believed in a centralization of power, reminiscent of the days of the Spanish Empire) and federalists (who'd had enough of central control and championed the vesting of most power in the hands of the states or localities). Rosas proclaimed his adherence to the federalist ideal – and then established what may have been the most centralized regime in Argentine history.

He lasted more than 20 years, and at one time or another was involved in wars with Bolivia, Paraguay, Uruguay, and with England and France for good measure. Meanwhile, Argentina had become a police state, and anyone expressing in theory what Rosas was doing in practice was likely to find himself on the short end of a rope. Not until a disparate group of intellectuals, landowners and common citizens joined together under the governor of Entre Ríos Province, Justo José de Urquiza, was Rosas unseated and sent into comfortable exile. He died in bed of natural causes at the age of 84, luxuries he had rarely accorded his enemies.

One must naturally ask, how did he survive in office as long as he did? And here's where things get interesting, from a couple of perspectives. Rosas lasted all those years because he created one of the earliest, and certainly one of the most effective, total states the world has ever seen. Banners singing his praises were everywhere. The federalist color red adorned every uniform and every house – and every brothel, along with portraits of El Benemérito de la Patria (The Well-Deserving of the Fatherland). Newspapers and all other publications were strictly controlled, Rosas having discovered a truth later picked up by Herr Hitler, Signor Mussolini, and Comrade Stalin: if you repeat the same phrases often enough (and take care to see that yours are the one phrases allowed), people will eventually come to believe them.

Rosas had another arrow in his armory, and later dictators availed themselves of it as well. He used coinage and currency to shape public opinion, and he was the first Latin American leader to do so in a massive, consistent manner. He might have observed that, in a country of widespread illiteracy, money with messages would meet with careful scrutiny, simply because it was money, and therefore worth a second look. But practicality takes nothing away from the fact that Rosas was a pioneer.

The great man's visage and slogans were plastered on Argentine coinage and currency. But just on some, not on all. His portrait appeared on gold, along with inspiring slogans. The slogans were carried over to silver coins as well, but not to copper ones. There, a simple ¡VIVA LA FEDERACION! (Long Live the [Argentine] Federation!) would do.

Why this variation according to metal? While there's no proof, I believe that Rosas and his people were attempting to reach one audience – members of the middle and upper classes, those most likely to use and scrutinize gold and silver coinage, those whose support for the regime was crucial, while basically ignoring another segment – the poor, whose support for the regime was deemed far less important.

What do the gold and silver coins tell us about a long-departed strongman? Two gold coins, one struck in 1836 and the other in 1842, are instructive. The eight-escudo piece bears the dictator's portrait (with his name beneath, to ensure that everyone makes the connection), with an abbreviated legend REPUB.ARGENT. CONFEDERADA – Argentine Confederated Republic. The identification of a man with his regime is deliberate. The reverse legend may be translated to read, Through Him [Rosas] the Littoral League Will Achieve Happiness (the Littoral League was the group of Argentine provinces under Rosas' control at the time).

A two-escudo gold coin from 1842 squeezes similar messages onto a smaller canvas. Here, Rosas is hailed as RESTAURADOR DE LAS LEYES, Restorer of the Laws – which is rich, considering that he subverted them in the first place! The coin's reverse bears the national arms, proclaiming that it is a product of the Argentine Confederated Republic.

But a silver peso goes completely over the top. Its obverse pays ETERNO LOOR AL RESTAURADOR ROSAS (Eternal Praise to Rosas the Restorer [of the Laws]). When we consider that this coin was struck in La Rioja, one of the dictator's strongest and most consistent bases of support, we are not particularly surprised.

But it is somewhat surprising to encounter policies we thought were restricted to contemporary times, in urbanized, modern societies, in a backward area a century and three-quarters' distance from us. Surprising or not, this is one of the lessons we learn from numismatics: over the long lifetime of the coin, almost anything can happen – and probably has.