From the Rosenbergs
to the Cigarette Multinationals:
Rosita Levin's Half-Century of Political Protest in Argentina
Born in Córdoba, Argentina in 1929, Rosita Levin
has been a political
activist most of her life. With her husband Emilio, who died two
years ago
[see obituary in the May-June 2000 Outlook-eds.], she fought against the
Peronist right in Argentina, against military rule, the Malvinas-Falklands
War, and more recently, the force of the powerful cigarette multinationals
in Argentina. A Communist who kept her distance from the Communist Party,
Rosita lost her hospital job during the 1976-83 military dictatorship.
Unlike many physicians who decided to leave the country, Rosita remained
in the hope of building something better after the downfall of the regime.
The first woman oncologist in Argentina, she remains committed to the
personal linkages she feels exist between her professional life, her patriotism,
and her progressive politics. In this interview, Rosita Levin speaks
about Communism, the progressive Jewish left in Argentina, and a variety
of other themes.
David Sheinin (DS): Where were you born, here in Buenos
Aires?
Rosita Levin (RL): No, in Córdoba (Argentina).
DS: When did you begin thinking about politics? When
did you begin your activism?
RL: My awareness came early. My parents were immigrants-my mother
from Rumania, my father from Russia. My father came from the province
of Santa Fé to Córdoba in the 1920s. When he arrived in
the city, he began working as a car mechanic and got to know a number
of Communists and Socialists. I was born in 1929 into a Communist home
where we had lots of ties to the progressive Jewish community. I remember
that during the Spanish Civil War, my parents would talk about what was
happening in Spain. My father had already joined the Communist Party.
During the Second World War, we followed closely the prospects of the
Allies. During my adolescence I had already developed a sense of my politics.
DS: How would you characterize relations between Jewish
and non-Jewish Communists during those times?
RL: They were good. Though when my father got married, the ceremony was
religious, so as not to offend his parents. Because of that the Communist
Party expelled him.
DS: Was he ever a member again?
RL: No, but he was always a sympathizer, an ally. Party meetings
took
place in our house. When I was 18 years old, and had already joined the
Communist Youth, my father advised me to be a friend of the Party, but
not a member. And many years later, with the collapse of the Soviet Union
and the revelations here about how Party leaders had taken money and so
on, I remembered what he had said. In addition to other problems, the
Party in Argentina was machista (macho). But Emilio and I were always
very active in Party activities and politics. Through 1985, much of our
lives revolved round Party activities and, of course, we had many friends
in the Party.
For a long time, Emilio was responsible for the Party's
contacts with
scientists in Argentina. And for many of us, the revelations about Party
corruption were devastating. Argentines on the left had thought
of the
Soviet Union as an ideal society.
DS: How did you decide to become a physician?
RL: I can trace it to when I was nine years old and the death of my younger
brother from diphtheria. It affected me a great deal, as such circumstances
do for any child. I was also inspired early on by the lives of great physicians
and scientists like Louis Pasteur and Marie Curie. I think my interest
in medicine was tied to my politics. I wanted to be a physician
because I wanted to help people. In addition, as I began to study toward
my profession, Argentina entered a period of turmoil and repression during
Juan Perón's presidency. Perón was both antisemitic and
a fascist. I
remember the Rosenberg trial in the United States, which I protested.
In
Córdoba, the Peronist provincial government was also fascistic:
while
pregnant with our first son Mariano, I was detained in Córdoba
for my
political activism. The level of repression was terrible. These things
stay
with you all of your life.
DS: Were there other important political moments that shaped
you?
RL: The outbreak of the Second World War. Also, in 1945, as we high school
and university students in Córdoba watched the rise of Perón,
we protested fascism. And Communists were persecuted under Perón
and under subsequent governments. People were imprisoned. My brother was
imprisoned. We were passionate about the Party and its goals. Communism
was like a religion and we would have given our lives for that cause.
DS: What were the circumstances around your decision to
specialize in oncology?
RL: In 1959, I had the opportunity to study in Canada. I went with my
family and it was at that point that I decided to work on cancer. I trained
at both the Jewish Hospital and the Children's Hospital in Montreal. When
I came back to Argentina I devoted myself to cancer therapies. When the
military came to power in 1976, I lost my position in a public hospital.
Even before that, my position had been insecure because of my politics
and because of my gender. And professional life within the hospitals,
in the
health care system generally, changed badly during the dictatorship.
Military rule created a context for many levels of corruption. Physicians
I
knew and many I didn't know allowed themselves to be caught up in the
commercialization of medicine. Many who worked in public hospitals
became less interested in caring for their patients, and more preoccupied
with profit.
DS: What happened after the fall of the military dictatorship
in 1983?
RL: As I told you, one symptom of the dictatorship was the
commercialization of the medical profession in Argentina. I didn't have
much interest in returning to the hospitals where I worked before the
coup
d'état in 1976. There were terrible things going on. Many hospital
professionals were taking drugs meant for free distribution to patients
by
the government and re-selling them on a burgeoning black market. There
was a mafia in the medical profession in the 1980s, profiting at the expense
of the poor. One physician who was my student has made millions in this
sort of activity. It was a tragedy. She was Jewish and had been progressive
in her politics. People made kilos of money.
DS: You and Emilio created a foundation to raise money for
cancer research, treatment and awareness. How did that project come about?
RL: The foundation began its work in 1991. We envisioned it as a patriotic
gesture, as we have all of our political positions and projects over the
years. We wanted to do something in support of democracy. And we wanted
to help put into practice our belief that Argentine researchers and health
care professionals can, with the necessary funding, contribute work of
international calibre. Though not funded by the foundation, our son Mariano
is a researcher here in Argentina working on the human genome project.
His work is important for many reasons, one being that it's valuable for
Argentines to participate in key areas of scientific research.
DS: What's the state of cancer care in Argentina?
RL: In private facilities the care is very good. In public hospitals it
has
tended not to be good, though I think the situation is slowly changing
for
the better under the current government. But in countries where there
is
rampant corruption in the government, health care suffers enormously.
DS: What can be said of the Jewish community today and its
politics?
RL: The Jewish community in Argentina is varied. It's been affected, for
example, by the financial mishaps of the Patricios Bank, an institution
owned by Jews, that went bankrupt. More recently, the head of the Central
Bank, Pedro Pou, made antisemitic references to Jewish control of certain
banks in Argentina. With regard to the Jewish left, that sector is
certainly weaker than it once was. It has to reorganize. The shock the
community felt from the collapse of the Soviet Union and from the
revelations of corruption and incompetence in the Argentine Communist
Party was very strong. In the last ten years, I've seen no real interest
on the part of the Argentine Communist Party for the Jewish community
or our institutions. In fact, there's been total indifference. At the
same time,
Jews on the left have been involved in a number of important political
groups. Some of us are involved with Memoria Activa, a group in the Jewish
community that works to remind people of the last dictatorship, the AMIA
bombing, and what those episodes have meant for the country. But we're
talking about a handful of individuals from the progressive Jewish left.
DS: Are there younger people that you would identify with
the progressive
Jewish left?
RL: Not in the numbers I knew in my youth. But, yes, there are some. There
is a progressive Jewish day school operating in Buenos Aires. But those
who run the school, the theatre, and the small number of other community
organizations, though very noble, are few.
DS: Do people who identified themselves as Communists for
so many years still identify themselves that way?
RL: No, not at all. People use terms like "progressive." And they
see
themselves as Jewish activists, with an interest in the Jewish community
that is tied to their politics beyond the community. The Communist Party
today is very small, with very few Jewish members. At the same time, when
I was in Canada in the 1960s and got to know Communists, I was surprised
at how small the left was in Canada. Here, at that time-and I suspect
it's still true-there were many more Communists and others on the left
than in Canada. And their political contributions were much greater and
much more far-reaching. Here the crisis has been so severe, and the level
of injustice so great, that many turned to the Communist Party for a solution
There were many different kinds of people who joined the Party here-people looking for justice in their own lives, people looking for improved wages, for a better society, for a new kind of politics. All of that- within a Communist Party framework-is gone now.
DS: How can those on the progressive left take a step forward
today in
helping Argentina to come out of the ongoing crisis?
RL: I think there's much that we can learn from other countries about
how
we treat each other, about the kind of government we want. If we take
Israel, for example, there are many problems. But look at Israel in regard
to cancer treatment. The level of care, of human concern, is formidable.
For any citizen who develops cancer, rich or poor, there is a remarkable
level of attention from the state-medical care, nurses visiting in the
home, psychological support and so on. It's a better, more human level
of
care than I've seen anywhere. This is extremely important for many reasons,
particularly because it begins with a basic understanding of how we're
going to treat one another.
The other important starting point for change is role models.
I mentioned
before that Marie Curie and others were important role models for me,
both as scientists and human beings. Young Argentines [today] have few
such models. Well, some of our models are gone. I took many of my role
models from the Soviet Union. That's gone now. But why couldn't we have
role models from other areas? Argentine science today is excellent, and
its scientists, past and present, should serve as models for young people.
In addition, there are many others after whom we could pattern our lives
and goals.
Another recent development that I think is very important
for the Jewish
community in Argentina, but also for Jews all over the world, is the
testimonial projects relating to the Holocaust. It's taken us fifty
years
to come to grips with that period. But we're all better for having gone
back to the Holocaust to understand our past.