“Eva and Her Blessed Fund:” The Social Contract and the Philosopher-Queen in Evita

By Jordan Weiers

Google Play Music tells me I have listened to the song “And The Money Kept
Rolling In” from Evita 2,500 times. The song is about 4 minutes long. For
those of you following along at home, that means I’ve spent about 166 hours
of my life listening to that song. Or roughly an entire week. This blog
post will try to explain why I love that song so much.

See the embedded video below before reading.



Here’s some helpful background info about the song, the video, and the
real-life foundation they were based on.

Eva Perón was First Lady and Spiritual Leader of Argentina in the late
1940s and early 50s until her tragic death at age 33. During that time, she
became possibly one of the world’s first political celebrities, generating
an unprecedented following and devotion among many working class
Argentinians. She was born in the Argentine pampas to a poor family and
came to the big city to make her fortune, where she became an actress and
radio personality. Once she met Juan Perón, she skyrocketed to fame and
influence.

She wasted no time building a working class political movement, railing
against the hegemony of the Argentine bourgeoisie. She founded La Fundación
Eva Perón (the Eva Perón Foundation), a charitable organization that
sponsored construction of hospitals, schools, and even a small city, in
addition to other public works projects such as electrical provisions and
water facilities and systems. In short, she became a hero for the
descamisados (Spanish for “shirtless ones,” Perón’s fond moniker for the
Argentine working classes), and was beloved by many of her people for
concretely improving their lives and giving them hope.

The song and accompanying visuals in the 1996 adaptation of the musical
version of her life, Evita (embedded above), jubilantly remember this
moment in Argentina’s political history. “And The Money Kept Rolling In”
remembers a hopeful political moment – the foundation of the Argentine
welfare state and the birth of a contract between the working class and the
government Evita represented – emblemized by a song that matched the
frantic social effervescence and progressivism of the Eva Perón Foundation.

The song is frantic. There’s syncopation and sampling of different
harmonies. There’s a chorus in the background speeding up the rhythm. The
film adaptation is a breathless montage of Evita handing out vouchers to
the poor; Evita opening up a new hospital; Evita breaking ground on a
bricklaying project; Evita opening up a new waterworks project; Evita
handing out bread, wine, bicycles, shoes, soccer balls … the montage goes
on and on and on. At the song’s climax, the play’s narrator sums it up
perfectly by challenging listeners to “name me anyone who cares as much as
Eva Perón!”

Other than the song’s infectious rhythm, there are a couple reasons why I
am so engrossed by this song.

First, it symbolizes a brief time and place where political leaders acted
exactly how they should – with benevolence, generosity, and a vision for a
world where people come together and do extraordinary things. When people
had come to expect little from their politicians, Evita swept aside all
expectations and plowed forward with her plans to uplift the working people
of her country (a group of downtrodden people to whom she recently had
belonged). The song captures one of those moments so rare in modern states:
when a leader paved the way toward a progressive society, and people
followed because they believed in her.

When it comes down to it, the reason I’m so obsessed with this song is it’s
a fantasy where the social contract works as philosophers say it’s supposed
to. The government (or, at least a leadership figure) takes care of its
people, with utmost care to the most vulnerable. The state provides for its
citizens, who have a reason to believe in it and support it. Isn’t that
what Rousseau and all of those philosophers I read (or skimmed) were
talking about? Those ideas about the social contract that seem so
irrelevant in today’s world? The philosopher-queen?

Of course, Eva Perón’s legacy and the legacy of her husband’s political
regime are much more complicated than that. But, in the four minutes of
“And The Money Kept Rolling In,” the fantasy of the heroic people’s
philosopher-queen lives. It transfixes us and reminds the viewer that “Eva
and her blessed fund” existed. They were real. And while the musical may
exaggerate the impact they had, it opens a window into a world where such
hopefulness, energy, and harmony could happen again, as long as compassion
is alive.


Above: Argentine “descamisados” wait in line to receive vouchers from Evita
herself at an Eva Perón Foundation event. A portrait of Evita watches with
characteristic benevolence in the background.
(Screenshot from the film, property of Hollywood Pictures, Cinergi
Pictures, and Buena Vista Pictures)


Above: Evita (played by Madonna) randomly selects someone from the crowd to
receive a prize.
(Screenshots from the film, property of Hollywood Pictures, Cinergi
Pictures, and Buena Vista Pictures)


Above: Evita hands vouchers to poor and working class families with a smile
and a handshake.
(Screenshots from the film, property of Hollywood Pictures, Cinergi
Pictures, and Buena Vista Pictures)


Above: Before Evita’s visit, excited Argentine children wave postcards with
her likeness.
(Screenshots from the film, property of Hollywood Pictures, Cinergi
Pictures, and Buena Vista Pictures)

Above: The Foundation sponsored construction of hospitals, schools, and even a small city, in addition to other public works projects such as electrical provisions and water systems. Top: Evita breaks ground on a bricklaying project. Second from top: Evita opens a new water provision system. Second from bottom: An Argentine family rejoices after successful installation of a lightbulb, as a portrait of Evita watches in the background. Bottom: Evita claps.
(Screenshots from the film, property of Hollywood Pictures, Cinergi
Pictures, and Buena Vista Pictures)

Comments