There’s an old saying in Argentine politics: when it looks like the cats are fighting, they’re actually reproducing.

Once a nod to the fractious yet durable nature of Peronism, that tactic has now spread across the political spectrum. The 2025 legislative elections in Buenos Aires make this clear: what looks like chaos — familiar names on unfamiliar lists, recycled candidates, and splintered loyalties — might actually be a calculated strategy to multiply influence, game the seat-allocation system, and confuse the voter just enough to keep control.

The fragmentation on the ballot isn’t a sign of collapse. It’s a plan.

At first glance, this fragmentation might seem like a sign of weakness or internal conflict. But in reality, it may very well be a deliberate maneuver — made viable by the D’Hondt method, the proportional representation system used to allocate seats in the city legislature.

Incentives to split

Each list is headed by a lead candidate and followed by a ranked lineup of additional candidates — typically up to 30 names. Voters don’t vote for individual candidates, but rather for the entire list. The total number of votes that a list receives determines how many of its candidates make it into the legislature, with seats distributed according to a mathematical formula that slightly favors those with higher totals.

While the system is designed to ensure fair representation, it also incentivizes large coalitions to split into multiple lists to capture different segments of the electorate — especially if they plan to reunify after the election.

Take the once-unified Cambiemos front. Figures like Horacio Rodríguez Larreta, Silvia Lospennato, Sabrina Ajmechet, and Florencia Arietto — all veterans of the same political space — are now scattered across distinct lists. Larreta, former mayor of Buenos Aires and a 2023 presidential hopeful, now heads “Volvamos Buenos Aires,” a ticket that distances itself from the PRO machinery he once led.

La Libertad Avanza (LLA) shows a similar dispersion. President Milei’s spokesperson Manuel Adorni leads the flagship list, while Yamil Santoro runs his own, originally branded so similarly to Unión por la Patria (UxP) that the electoral court forced a redesign.

The fact that he shares a surname with Leandro Santoro — the top UxP candidate — only added to the confusion. Then there’s Ramiro Marra, one of the earliest and most visible faces of Milei’s movement, now running under the banner of the Partido Libertario. Whether these splits are sincere ideological breaks or tactical plays, they result in broader reach — without necessarily risking cohesion after the votes are counted.

Peronism, for its part, has long normalized internal multiplicity. Leandro Santoro heads the main UxP list, Juan Manuel Abal Medina positions himself toward the center, and Alejandro Kim — endorsed by Guillermo Moreno — represents a more orthodox, hardline tradition. For Peronism, fragmentation is often just prelude to reunification.

Who stands for what?

But while this strategy may benefit the parties institutionally, it’s the voters who are left to navigate a disorienting field. The multiplication of lists — framed as offering diversity — can blur ideological lines, obscure real differences, and make it difficult to trace who stands for what. Still, it’s a tactic that clearly favors the well-established coalitions and candidates with institutional muscle, those who can afford to run on multiple fronts and later realign under a common legislative umbrella.

It also works for newcomer parties that might not have a strong base but do have one or two recognizable names — or favorable last names — that would draw more votes as heads of their own lists than if placed further down a single unified ticket. Fragmentation, in these cases, is not weakness — it’s optimization.

Paradoxically, the one group that might genuinely benefit from this approach is the independent electorate: those who aren’t loyal to a single party but appreciate having a wider menu of options that reflect their nuanced positions. But even that comes with a catch: clarity is sacrificed, and without a firm understanding of how the post-election regrouping plays out, the vote risks becoming less about choice and more about guessing who’s really aligned with whom.

In theory, proportional systems like D’Hondt are meant to ensure fairness by giving smaller forces a shot at representation. In practice, the upcoming Buenos Aires’ elections might show that parties have learned to bend the rules just enough to widen their share — without ever really risking fragmentation.

The cats may look like they’re fighting, but by the time they curl up in the legislature, they’ll be sleeping in the same bed.