Metropolitan train lines in Buenos Aires have never been a pleasure ride. Crammed wagons, delays and occasional technical difficulties have never come as a surprise. But since Milei took power, cuts have led to fewer trains running, railway companies have seen mass firings, and the threat of privatization is looming. This has exposed passengers to shocking safety risks — and it’s bringing up echoes of the past.

According to the Argentine National Commission for Transportation Regulation, close to 80 million passengers per quarter depend on one of Greater Buenos Aires’s eight local rail lines to get to work, school, or their other daily activities. I am one of them.

The Sarmiento line, which I take to get to work, is a lifeline for all residents in the western area of Greater Buenos Aires. It runs from the downtown station of Once — within walking distance of the National Congress — all the way to Moreno, on the outskirts of the suburbs.

As such, the crowd is diverse. I share my ride with young adults heading to their first jobs, mothers wrangling their three small children, old people in worn-out clothes who need to get to medical appointments on time, and street vendors looking to break even for the day.

Without it, my commute would be very different. I’d be forced to switch between at least two different bus lines and deal with Buenos Aires’ manic rush hour traffic. My commute would be at least half an hour longer. The train streamlines and facilitates my trip — but for how much longer?

It was the Sarmiento, the second most-used urban train line, that prompted a major review into how these trains worked in 2012. In February of that year, a train smashed into the buffers at the end of the line, leaving fifty-one people dead and more than 700 injured. The aftermath of the disaster resulted in a major overhaul, significantly modernizing and improving the service.

However, the service is now deteriorating at an alarming rate. In early August, the rush hour service was cut from a train every seven minutes to one every 10 minutes, and that’s before factoring in the increasingly common delays. Squeezing onto a train has become an “every man for himself” situation. Stations are crammed with exasperated passengers ready to push and shove whomever they have to to avoid missing the train and being late for work. Those already on board have to fight back, siege-style, or be squashed. Arguments and even fights have become regular occurrences. 

A moshpit

If you’re incredibly unlucky, you might be aboard a train that switches services, changing from an all-stops train to a fast service one. When the announcement is made, frustrated passengers who now have to switch trains clash with the onslaught of passengers trying to get on. If you’ve ever been in a moshpit, you’ll have some idea what that might look like. I’ve witnessed passengers nearly passed out, being helped off trains, crushed in the turmoil.

Even if you’ve managed to claw your way into one of the carriages, you might not arrive on time. Trains now regularly wait on the tracks outside the station, waiting for clearance to proceed as delays ripple from one service to the next.

However, passengers would be naive to hope for an improvement soon. In April, the Milei government authorized the firing of 3,000 employees from Trenes Argentinos, the group of state-owned railway companies that manage the service. The company was also on the list of state-owned businesses that were primed for privatization. 

Despite all this, train fares have actually gotten more expensive. In early May, trains were one of the public transport services that upped their prices, with the ticket minimum going from AR$130 (US$0,13 at the official rate, US$0,10 at the MEP rate) to AR$200. A further 40% increase is set to go in effect from September 16. For workers hovering around the threshold of destitution, it proved too much. People jumping the turnstiles are now a regular sight.

Safe, accessible public transport is an essential motor that connects poor workers from the suburbs with the jobs they need to drive the economy. Making dangerous cuts to a service they depend on, even as the average household struggles to stay above the breadline, is an act of colossal irresponsibility by the government.

On May 12, two San Martin line trains crashed in Palermo, injuring 90 people. The accident, while attributed to human error and a signal malfunction, brought back haunting memories of the Once Tragedy.

I pass the Once Tragedy memorial every week on my commute. The names of every victim are etched into the walls of the station. When I see it, I can’t help but feel that defunding a service that millions of Argentines depend on to make a living has nothing to do with making the casta pay the price of austerity, and everything to do with forgetting a lesson that cost us dear.