Yo Soy Nisman: protesters in Buenos Aires. Photo: ALEJANDRO PAGNI/AFP/Getty Images
Show Hide image

Bullets, pastries and the rise of the right: Mauricio Macri struggles to recover from a mysterious death

The death of federal prosecutor Alberto Nisman provides an opportunity for the right.

By late afternoon on 18 February, the storm clouds were gathering and the drizzle had turned into a downpour. As rain battered the streets of Buenos Aires, a 400,000-strong crowd of protesters initiated a furious call-and-response demanding justice for the deceased federal prosecutor Alberto Nisman.

On 19 January, Nisman was found dead in his Buenos Aires apartment, killed by a single bullet to the temple. His death was assumed to have been self-inflicted. Nisman had been due next day to begin presenting a case that would implicate the president of Argentina, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, in obscuring the role played by Iran – an important trading partner – in the most deadly terrorist attack to take place on Argentinian soil: the 1994 bombing of the Argentinian Israelite Mutual Association, which killed 85 people.

A number of unusual events took place over the days that followed. Damián Pachter, the journalist who broke the story of Nisman’s death on Twitter, fled the country, saying he was being stalked by the national intelligence services. In mid-February a witness to the case went public with allegations of “irregularities”, including the mishandling of evidence and the dirtying of the crime scene. Investigators had used Nisman’s coffee-maker and eaten medialunas, Argentinian croissants, on the job.

And yet the most serious accusation came on 5 March when Nisman’s ex-wife, Sandra Arroyo Salgado, a federal judge, presented the results of an independent investigation she had conducted with four forensic experts. Her investigation showed an earlier death time and an irregular bullet angle, that there was no gunpowder on Nisman’s hand, and that his body had been moved. “Nisman’s death wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a suicide,” she told the press. “He was murdered.”

This in turn angered Viviana Fein, the federal prosecutor assigned to the Nisman case. Fein maintained the official position, which would not rule out suicide, and fired back: “If they’re trying to pressure me, it won’t work.”

Meanwhile, the case Nisman had been preparing came to a halt after being handed to another prosecutor, Gerardo Pollicita. The case against Kirchner was thrown out of court by a judge on 26 February, a decision Pollicita is appealing. Some blame the failure on Nisman’s death. A column in Argentina’s most widely read newspaper, Clarín, speculates that Nisman may have known about additional evidence.

The truth about Nisman’s death may remain obscure but the political implications for President Kirchner are clear. The handling of the investigation makes her government look, at best, incompetent. Her own erratic explanations for Nisman’s death, wavering between suicide and the involvement of renegade spies, have only made things worse. Doubts about Kirchner’s reaction have brought her entire leftist-populist agenda into focus, provoking a wholesale shift to the right. This is good news for her chief opponent, the mayor of Buenos Aires, Mauricio Macri. There are notable parallels between Macri and the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson: a powerful figure who has helped transport improve but has been unable – or unwilling – to keep the rise of housing prices in check. Macri is a staunch neoconservative: he cites Ayn Rand as one of his main influences and often lashes out at Argentina’s immigrant communities.

A poll conducted on 4 March showed Macri leading among presidential hopefuls in the lead-up to elections, due to take place in November this year. “This is directly connected to the Nisman case,” says Raúl Aragón, the political consultant who carried out the study. “After Nisman’s death, Kirchner’s popularity dropped sharply, along with the popularity of her closest ally in the race, Daniel Scioli.”

Yet Kirchner still maintains a strong support base. Thousands gathered to hear her three-hour “legacy” speech at the opening of congress on 1 March (her last, as term limits prevent her from running again). She touted her accomplishments, announced a plan to nationalise the country’s rail network and spoke of her regret over Nisman’s death.

In addition, her foothold in the interior may throw the advantage to her allies. “Macri’s support is strong in Buenos Aires and other large cities, but he will have trouble making headway elsewhere in the country,” says Eduardo Blanco, co-editor of a book on the Kirchner government.

Nevertheless the Nisman case continues to be toxic for Kirchner and her allies. “If stories casting doubt on the handling of the Nisman case stay in the news, Macri will most likely continue to lead,” Aragón says. 

This article first appeared in the 13 March 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Israel's Next War

Show Hide image

For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood