By Eric Vandenbroeck
and co-workers
In a time of
geopolitical upheaval, few parts of the world have weathered more significant social
and economic upheaval than Latin America. Despite accounting for just eight
percent of the world’s population, Latin American countries have suffered more
than 40 percent of all deaths from COVID-19; during the first year of the
pandemic, they also experienced their most significant economic contraction in
more than a century. Then, just as the region was making an economic rebound,
it was hit by the twin shocks of Russia’s war in Ukraine and a global inflation
crisis. As of October 2022, average inflation across the region was approaching
15 percent—about triple the level of Asia’s and one-third higher than
sub-Saharan Africa’s—while public debt levels have soared to more than 70
percent of regional GDP.
That far-flung events
primarily drive Latin America’s latest turmoil may seem surprising. For the
past three decades, Latin America has mostly remained on the margins of major
geopolitical conflicts, from the wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria to
China’s growing ambitions in the Indo-Pacific region. Distance, both geographic
and political, has tended to keep the region apart and consumed instead by its
internal issues, such as sky-high inequality, violent crime, and corruption.
But now, events
halfway around the world are roiling Latin America’s economies—and, by
extension, politics—more than ever since the end of the Cold War. The prolonged
economic slowdown of China, price shocks in the wake of Russia’s war on
Ukraine, and interest-rate hikes by the U.S. Federal Reserve and other leading
central banks have created a perfect storm of macroeconomic pressures on the
region’s already stagnant economies. Latin American democracies aren’t in peak
health, either. Until now, only Nicaragua and Venezuela have joined Cuba in
becoming full-fledged dictatorships. But El Salvador, Guatemala, and Mexico are
gripped by democratic backsliding, and Brazil was headed in the same direction
before voters threw out right-wing populist Jair Bolsonaro in October.
Meanwhile, Argentina, Ecuador, and Panama have been beset by large-scale
unrest.
No wonder some
commentators across the region worry about a repeat of Latin America’s
so-called lost decade of the 1980s. Then, just like today, mounting debt, price
shocks from outside the region, and sharp interest-rate hikes threw Latin
America’s economies into a tailspin, casting more than 20 million people into
extreme poverty and erasing decades of rising standards of living. Although
most of the region’s fledgling democracies survived, several hung on only by a
thread, and it took over a decade for many economies to recover. This time, the
outcome could be worse: many younger Latin Americans have had enough democratic
dysfunction, and although the region’s central banks are better equipped to
respond to the crisis, few voters seem willing to put up with the painful side
effects of curbing inflation and debt. The region could face a new lost decade
if governments cannot correct course without causing further social upheaval.
And although it may prove less economically damaging, it could be even more
politically destabilizing than its predecessor—with consequences that could
sooner or later reach the United States.
Pain Management
Paradoxically, until
the current crisis, many Latin American governments seemed to have conquered
the debt and inflation problems that precipitated the first lost decade. In the
1980s, the region emerged from an unprecedented democracy wave, with countries
such as Brazil, Argentina, and Peru transitioning from authoritarian rule to
open elections. Yet by the decade’s close, the future looked bleak. By 1983,
governments across the region, in a bid to sustain state-led industrialization,
had racked up nearly as much debt as the rest of the world’s developing
economies, only at riskier terms and mainly in dollars. And because of the
Fed’s substantial interest-rate hikes, which Fed Chair Paul Volcker had
implemented to curb domestic U.S. inflation, many of these governments could
not service their debts. When Mexico defaulted in 1982, it marked the beginning
of a wave of similar defaults across the region, and Argentina, Brazil,
Bolivia, and Peru experienced hyperinflation.
Latin American
governments paid a high economic and social price to dig themselves out of this
abyss. With nowhere else to turn, many governments entered financing agreements
with the IMF and the World Bank that required them to make sharp spending cuts
and curb public debt. At the same time, they gave newly independent central
banks free rein to take on runaway prices by raising interest rates. This
strong medicine worked—by the end of the 1990s, average inflation across the
region had fallen from 21.8 percent, in 1990, to just 3.5 percent, in 1999—but
the side effects were traumatic. Much of the region plunged into a prolonged
recession, and per capita GDP declined.
In 1992, populist
outsider President Alberto Fujimori took advantage of Peru’s economic chaos to
close Congress and install a competitive authoritarian regime. Over the same decade,
Venezuela’s decades-old party system collapsed—creating an opening for populist
strongman Hugo Chávez. The pain of economic reform set the stage for leftist
populists such as Evo Morales, who became president of Bolivia in 2006, and
Rafael Correa, who came to power in Ecuador in 2007—both of whom took up the
banner of opposition to neoliberalism.
Still, for all the
pain that came alongside them, the reforms that helped end the lost decade
cemented two hard-won achievements: low inflation and a relatively low
debt-to-GDP ratio. These became the economic pillars on which the region’s
democracies have rested ever since. Latin America was, to some degree, shielded
from global events like the 2008 financial crisis and benefited from China’s
rapid growth. During the first decade of this century, Chinese demand fueled a
commodity boom in countries such as Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, and Peru that
slashed poverty rates across the region and grew the ranks of the middle class
by 63 million. Given the relative economic stability the region had achieved,
few expected Latin America to find itself once again in dire macroeconomic
straits.
Between Austerity And A Hard Place
In fact, by the
2010s, pressure on many Latin American economies was beginning to build. First,
by the middle of the decade, waning demand in China, South America’s top
trading partner, lowered prices for the region’s commodity exports. By
mid-decade, growth rates had declined sharply in Argentina, Bolivia, and Brazil
and taken a hit in Peru and Chile. Then came COVID-19, bringing a combination
of tough lockdowns and supply chain disruptions that stopped the region’s
economies. Most countries rolled out emergency social assistance to buffer
against the recession and prevent widespread hunger. Still, given Latin
America’s notoriously low tax revenues, this emergency safety net came at a
steep cost, thrusting governments deep into debt. Meanwhile, extreme poverty
reached a 27-year high. Nonetheless, as commodity prices began to rebound in
2021, the region began to look forward to a partial post-pandemic economic
recovery.
But these hopes have
been dashed over the past year as supply-side factors, such as the continued
disruptions of China’s zero-COVID policy and the effects of pandemic stimulus
spending, have driven inflation to some of the region's highest levels in
decades. Just as concerning—and eerily reminiscent of Latin America’s original
lost decade—have been the effects of tight monetary policy. The region’s
central banks beat the Fed to the chase, raising interest rates earlier and
faster than in other parts of the world in a bid to tame inflation, even though
it meant decelerating already slow growth. In October, the IMF projected that
inflation in Latin America would finally start to dip in 2023. But with the Fed
undertaking a campaign of its own, investors have been scared away from
risk-taking, and capital inflows to Latin America have dramatically slowed.
Moreover, Fed rate
hikes have made it much costlier for some Latin American governments to service
their dollar-denominated debt. As of 2021, it accounted for more than a third
of Colombia’s public debt and more than half of Chile’s and Argentina’s.
Meanwhile, the Inter-American Development Bank expects average debt-to-GDP
ratios to continue to rise across the region at least through 2024. This
situation leaves governments and their finance ministers with few palatable
options: either slash public spending at the risk of further thinning out
already insufficient safety nets or go deeper into fiscal crisis.
Despite these
worrying trends, some observers argue that a rerun of the lost decade is
unlikely. They point to the region’s now independent central banks and their
proactive approach to monetary policy. They note that the U.S. economy is now
overleveraged, making it unlikely that the Fed will ratchet up interest rates
to the double-digit levels of the early 1980s. These assumptions may be valid.
Unfortunately, they do not mean that Latin America is out of the woods yet, for
one simple reason: today, the political situation is increasingly volatile, and
democratic institutions in many countries seem more fragile than at any other
point in the past three decades.
Rising Up Or Getting Out
In the 1980s, most of
the region’s democracies were young. For Latin Americans at the time, not only
was the experience of bloody military dictatorships still fresh, many of them
had taken personal risks to bring down those regimes. Majorities in most
countries were prepared to tolerate democratic dysfunction, and even some
degree of economic pain, without turning against democracy itself.
Far fewer seem likely
to put up with such turmoil today. There are signs in many countries that
democratic institutions could be vulnerable in a prolonged crisis. Take the
2021 Americas Barometer survey: in all but four countries in the region, a
majority of respondents expressed dissatisfaction with their democracies and
also said that they would be willing to give up free elections for guarantees
of basic incomes and services. At the same time, polls show a growing
generational gap among Latin Americans in their views of democracy, with
millennials and Generation Z far less likely to be satisfied with democracy
than their parents. This is the second-largest such gap of any region in the
world.
Until now, the wave
of discontent has been chiefly channeled through the ballot box. Tellingly,
incumbent presidents’ parties have lost the last 15 presidential elections in
the region. Brazil is no exception. In October’s presidential election, the
incumbent, Bolsonaro, lost to the leftist ex-president Luiz Inácio
Lula da Silva. Encouragingly, Bolsonaro did not prove able to undermine the
impendence of the country’s courts or electoral system in his four years in
power, and his calls to overturn the election results seem unlikely to succeed.
But in other
countries, popular discontent over inflation and government austerity measures
have started to take on more destabilizing forms. In Panama in July, price
increases incited some of the largest antigovernment protests since the fall of
dictator Manuel Noriega in 1990. Similar mass protests
have paralyzed the capitals of Ecuador and Argentina. And in
early October, when Haiti’s prime minister announced cuts in fuel subsidies, it
set off a new wave of destabilizing violence. These protests have built on a
wave of mass protests against government policies and thin social safety nets
that have been growing over the past decade. As was the case in Brazil in 2013
and Chile in 2019, when governments make even what appear to be minor cuts to
subsidies or small increases in public service fees, it may set off
destabilizing unrest. If this pattern continues to grow, it could lead to
chronic instability, undermine governability, and—in a worst-case scenario—lead
to democratic breakdowns in countries already teetering on edge.
Of course, there’s
one other big difference between the region today and the 1980s. During the lost decade, mass migration to the United States began,
fueled almost entirely by Mexico, the Caribbean, and northern Central America
citizens. In the decades since, however, migration flows have spiked, with
people from across the region gambling on reaching the United States. In the
first nine months of 2022 alone, U.S. border control agents have logged more
than one million encounters with Latin American migrants at the
southwestern border—and for the first time, the number of encounters with
people from northern Central America and Mexico was exceeded by encounters with
Latin Americans from further away—namely, Venezuelans, Cubans, Haitians, and
Nicaraguans. If economic stagnation continues, those numbers may go far
higher.
If governments in the
region could strike the ultimate balancing act—cutting debt and inflation
without dismantling social safety nets—they might be able to dodge a new lost
decade. But that would require a considerable amount of resources. With public
budgets already stretched thin, a global economic recovery out of sight, and
U.S. policymakers focused elsewhere. Those resources seem unlikely to
materialize anytime soon. In the 1980s, Latin America lost a decade of economic
stability without losing democracy. But if the 2020s becomes a new lost decade,
all bets are off.
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