FRANCISCO “PERITO” MORENO

Claudio Bertonatti

Moreno was born in 1952, on the 31st day of the Month of the Homeland, or the Greatest Month, as May has been referred to since the era of our fight for independence. Leopoldo Lugones would say that Moreno was born with “superior eyes for seeing the Homeland,” recognizing what potential it held, and in turn committing himself to science, public education, and the conservation of nature. He believed that “the Republic must not remain stationary, nor content itself with its fame of wealth—a well deserved fame, more or less.” It needed to go further, and it was toward these horizons that he aimed his efforts.

It is a common tendency for narration constructing a nation’s historical processes to create protagonists—almost exclusively—of military men and politicians, ignoring or minimizing persons of culture or of science, whose work is often done quietly but no less heroically. As Héctor Fasano put it, Moreno was a hero and, in a sense, is almost forgotten. The word hero is associated with

Eros, the Roman god of Love. Precisely, a hero is one who works for the love of a noble cause, moved by a desire for the common good.

From his childhood, his calling toward a life in natural sciences was clear. He himself wrote, “Childish curiosity has not disappeared in the man, but rather it is sleeping, and it is awakened when he comes face to face with something unknown and unexpected.” “Thus, a fragment of bone or an indicative stone (…) reveals undreamt-of phenomena which feed human fantasy, mother of all knowledge.” Those objects he collected from an early age in his explorations of both shores of the river Río de la Plata, of the still wild places of Palermo (in the Argentina capital), and along the coast of the Uruguay river were made into a museum in 1867. That same year, he met Karl Hermann Burmeister, whom Sarmiento had named to direct the public museum (today, the Argentine Museum of Natural Sciences). This wise Prussian encouraged the young man and guided him in his vocation. What is more, upon identifying a fossilized armadillo mandible found by young Moreno, the master classified it and gave it the name Dasypus moreni, “because it is new to science and this lad deserves for it to be named after him.”

The youngster had enjoyed a great privilege: his honorary tutor was the teacher of teachers, Domingo Faustino Sarmiento. In his old age, Moreno recalled that the illustrious son of San Juan would often gather a group of children around him, to instruct them in edifying subjects. Finally, he would give them sweets and end the class with this phrase: “And now, boys, let us shout: Long live the Fatherland!” It is easy to imagine the impact of those episodes, onto which were added the counsel of another great man, Juan María Gutiérrez, one of the greatest promoters of Argentine culture, and rector of the University

Conservation, viewed in its entirety, is the slow and laborious unfolding of a new relationship between people and the land.

—Aldo Leopold

was concurred by another emerging intellectual, Pedro Luis Barcia, who pointed out his attributes in this way: “Values such as integrity, patriotic feeling, the idea of national identity, the mastery of several fields (not only geography), the ascetic sense of personal sacrifice for his country, the capacity to give of himself, are what makes him one of these ‘invisible Argentines’ that Eduardo Mallea spoke of, and so many more attributes of his moral physiognomy.” Even Theodore Roosevelt told him, “you have realized a work which only a very few number of men in each generation is capable of carrying out.”

Francisco Pascasio Moreno dedicated his life to the service of his country. Argentines are enduringly indebted to him. His example as a public man is a model for those who desire a future that offers equal educational and cultural opportunities for all citizens, which is the foundation of justice. His concern and resolve for conserving the natural and cultural patrimony would be well imitated by many municipal, provincial, and national functionaries. Unlike many public men, he avoided social events where people show themselves off, but he responded to every invitation to visit a poor school, because he knew that each teacher needed his encouragement in aiding disadvantaged children. As his secretary, Clemente Onelli, put it, he always felt himself “a protector of abandoned children.” In fact, two days before his death, he had accepted the invitation of the principal of the school in Barracas to celebrate the end of the school year.

On 22 November 1919, Moreno passed away at the age of 67, after a period of physical decline and as a result of angina pectoris. The news spread rapidly to personalities of science and culture. That day, it was as if the world suffered an annulling solar eclipse. But his memory continues shining, illuminating, inspiring.

In his memory are celebrated Geography Day (November 22) and Tour Guide Day (May 31). One of our most spectacular national parks and one of the most emblematic glaciers of another park bear his name.

Moreno had taken on so much debt to finance his philanthropic activities that banking institutions (such as the National Bank of Argentina) ordered his belongings to be auctioned off. His wish was to be cremated and that his ashes be scattered either at the foot of the Aguaribay sumac that still stands in the Bernasconi Institute, or in the region of Nahuel Huapi. His last wish was carried out in 1944, and today he rests on Nahuel Huapi’s Centinela Island.

To put it broadly, Moreno was a “normal” person, with hopes and dreams, sorrow and joy, virtues and defects, frustrations and accomplishments… What is extraordinary was his ability to act in accord with his ideals, making headway with perseverance, honor, and courage. He leaves us a message, implicit but clear: great initiatives are carried through neither easily nor rapidly, and it is even possible, as in his case, that the sought-after result is never witnessed by he who brought it into being. I suspect that Moreno was aware of the impossibility of his seeing the first national park made reality, because I am convinced that even if he had known, he would have carried on the same. Those who have followed his example in Argentina (Carlos Blaquier with Calilegua, Tröels Pedersen with Mburucuyá, and the Tompkins family with Monte León and Perito Moreno) have gone through similar processes. There is precedence for having to insist on (before various public functionaries and in various governmental dealings) the acceptance of land donations, to enlarge the area of our national parks. In some way, this makes it clear that these actions are not for simply anyone, because the desired reaction to

STEPPE & GRASSLANDS