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When Juan Perón inaugurated the village, he praised it so highly that tears welled in Evita's eyes. The strapping President stopped his speech to kiss her. "These two tears," he said, "point to the great merit in this work, namely, human emotion." Emotion unquestionably moves Senñra Perón. But it is equally true that ( she is one of the country's biggest property holders, the boss of six Buenos Aires newspapers, the radio station El Mundo, and at least two manufacturing plants. It is commonly believed in Buenos Aires that these properties were acquired as "investments" for some of the millions that pour into the Social Aid Foundation.
By the Hearth. Evita spends $40,000 or more a year just for dresses from Paris' top designers.*In 1950, she ordered gowns from Balmain, Dior, Fath and Rochas. She has the furs of a czarina, the jewels of a maharani. Last year Perón took a fancy to a U.S. visitor and volunteered to show him around the presidential mansion. While displaying roomful after roomful of Evita's clothes the President guffawed: "Not exactly a descamisada, eh?" Evita herself is not a bit abashed. She is quite likely to appear at a streetcleaners' rally dressed in a Paris frock and glittering with jewels. She is well aware that in the eyes of many a descamisado she is Cinderella in the flesh. With sound political instinct, she dresses the part.
Despite the glitter of her trappings, Evita leads an almost austere life. She and her husband live simply; they rarely go out at night except to official ceremonies. El Presidente has always been an early riser and hard worker; La Presidenta keeps the same pace. From time to time, they retire briefly to San Vicente, their country place, where Perón likes to put on gaucho's trousers and stroll among his dogs, ostriches and chickens. Evita knocks around in slacks and cooks an occasional omelette.
These are dedicated days for Evita. Other Peronistas may be in the movement for what they can get out of it, but Evita lives as one convinced that her husband's regime is a new and revolutionary force in the world. "I have dedicated myself fanatically to Perón and to Perón's ideals," she says. "Without fanaticism one cannot accomplish anything." In public speeches she has coupled her husband's name with the name of Napoleon and Alexander the Great. Last fortnight, while he stood beaming at her side, she compared him, not unfavorably, with Jesus Christ.
In Juan and Evita Perón's Argentina, events are marching decisively in 1951. Inflation remains the country's greatest problem and peril, but the threat of World War III has given the economy a temporary lift. The war, Argentines feel sure, will not be their war; ever since sentiment flared up last summer against sending even token forces to Korea, Perón has proclaimed that Argentines will defend their own black soil, and no more.
But for the ruling couple such matters as inflation or war are secondary; the all-important thing is next February's elections. They want nothing less than overwhelming victory—not just 55% but 90% or 95% of the votes.