Witnessing a nation demolish what it has painstakingly built over the course of a century is quietly devastating. Argentina’s public education system was not accidental. It created it, contested it, and discussed it in congresses, constitutions, and educational movements dating back to 1882. It was a deliberate endeavor. Because of this, what is currently taking place in 2025, as OMEP Argentina celebrates its 60th year, feels more like a philosophical break than a change in policy.
The World Organization for Early Childhood Education, or OMEP, has been fighting for the youngest children—those who cannot vote, cannot advocate for themselves, and are statistically most likely to be left behind by systems built around the already comfortable—for six decades. This work rarely makes headlines. This year marks the 60th anniversary of the Argentine chapter. It’s not exactly a time to celebrate. It’s a time of reckoning.
The debate surrounding the Milei government’s Education Freedom Bill extends far beyond curriculum design and school funding. In reality, the question of whether education is something that the state owes every child or something that families must find, assess, and obtain for themselves is being discussed, though few are doing so in an open manner. They are not interchangeable. In terms of lived experience, there is a huge gap between them. A child born in Palermo is not navigating the same “choices” as a child born in a low-income Conurbano Bonaerense neighborhood. Being neutral does not mean acting otherwise. It’s a decision masquerading as one.
On this, international frameworks have been remarkably clear. Early childhood education must be a guaranteed right, not a product of the market, according to the Tashkent Declaration, which was adopted in 2022 under UNESCO leadership, and the more general commitments linked to SDGs 4.2 and 4.7. OMEP has been a part of those discussions, continuously advocating for equity-centered strategies, especially in societies characterized by concentrated poverty and territorial inequality. Notably, Argentina ratified those pledges. Whether the current government views itself as bound by them is still up for debate.
The background of material suffering is what makes this moment feel heavier. Argentina’s child poverty rate has increased. Hunger in children and teenagers is not an abstract concept; it manifests itself in school attendance records, pediatric consultations, and the faces of students who arrive at class too exhausted to focus. It may take years to undo the defunding of the System for the Promotion and Protection of Children’s Rights, which was meticulously constructed through Law 26.061 and decades of institutional work. Once weakened, rights systems do not just reappear when a government shifts.
Observing all of this gives the impression that those who are most dedicated to the welfare of children are worn out in a specific way—not from defeat, but from repeatedly having to explain why the floor is necessary. Why there are differences between a market-driven and rights-based system. For families that are already overburdened, “freedom” without a structural guarantee is nothing at all. For 60 years, OMEP has been arguing this point. Somehow, the urgency hasn’t decreased.
The result you have been striving for for six decades is not assured. However, it does mean that you enter a battle with an unrivaled body of evidence, connections, and moral clarity. More than ever, Argentina’s children need that clarity, especially the ones that no one is currently filming or interviewing. It’s difficult not to believe that whether the nation’s remarkable educational legacy endures in the face of this specific political moment will be decided over the coming years. The solution is not certain. At the very least, that is motivation to continue.
