Argentina's claim on the remote archipelago of the Falklands, also known as the Malvinas, dates back centuries and has been a staple of national politics since 1833, when British forces expelled the Argentine garrison and settlers and seized control of the islands. That open wound has since served as an effective rally-around-the-flag motif, rubbed with salt by political leaders of every stripe whenever they found themselves in dire straits, from the left-populist Peronists to the military dictatorship that ruled Argentina between 1976 and 1983.

But President Javier Milei, a firebrand libertarian who proudly refers to Margaret Thatcher – the British Conservative PM who successfully led the UK's defence following the Argentine attempt to retake the islands in 1982 – as one of his icons, was until recently one of the weakest advocates of what he has come to call a "sacred cause".

A little over a year ago, he was blasted by opponents and allies alike for his tepid support for the Malvinas claim, even stating in April 2025 that he hoped the islanders could choose Argentina over the UK in a future referendum, in effect endorsing their self-determination rights. 99.8% of the Falklanders voted to remain a British territory in 2013, and no further consultation has ever been scheduled.

What, then, triggered the "winds of change" leading Milei to suddenly adopt the same cause so dear to the very Peronist establishment he rails against daily? None other than President Donald Trump, his mentor and close ideological ally, who resuscitated the issue earlier this month by opening the door to a possible review of Washington's long-standing neutral stance on the island’s sovereignty, ostensibly to punish the UK for its unwillingness to help in the US war on Iran.

Trump has long revered Milei, who has ushered in a populist right-wing shift that has now swept much of South America, what the US administration sees as its rightful sphere of influence under its novel "Donroe Doctrine". He went as far as intervening to help secure his victory in last year's crucial mid-term election, extending a $20bn swap line directly from the US Treasury to prop up the struggling peso ahead of the vote.

The two men certainly share a loud-mouthed manner, a rejection of "woke culture", animosity towards multilateral organisations (save for the IMF, which sees Milei as a darling), and a proclivity for outbursts against the press. Yet important contrasts exist: Milei – a self-declared "anarcho-capitalist" – champions free markets as part of his faithful adoption of classical liberalism, while Trump is doing the exact opposite, pursuing state intervention and tariffs under MAGA colours, not much differently from Milei's arch-enemies, the Peronists.

Whatever their differences on economics, the bromance has held firm enough for Trump to do Milei this favour, albeit primarily aimed at punishing the Brits for their perceived lack of enthusiasm over the Iran war.

Perhaps what brought the Falklands to the top of the US leader's mind was the stunt pulled in July by the Argentine national team in Atlanta during the World Cup semi-final, following their win over England, where they displayed a banner reading "Las Malvinas son Argentinas".

A jubilant, spontaneous and somewhat predictable reaction to a decisive win over what a deep-seated national narrative, ingrained in the educational system and etched in Argentine school history books, depicts as British invaders.

But if Argentine players impulsively started the fire and Trump, moved by anti-British spite, threw some gasoline on it, Milei was suddenly offered a comfortable opening to embrace the claim. The fact that he jumped on it so wholeheartedly, though, reads like a last-ditch attempt to boost his chances of political survival ahead of next year's presidential election, as his popularity plunges to around 37% according to a July AtlasIntel poll for Bloomberg, the lowest point since he came to office.

Milei sorely needs a second term to double down on his radical economic overhaul, arguing that this is just the beginning of the country's long ascent to great-power status, propelled by an AI and energy boom, just as he said upon taking office: "things will get worse before they get better." He has since prophesied a golden era on the horizon that will finally free Argentina, geography aside, from being lumped together with the Global South, a classification despised by Milei, who is steeped in Western culture, admiration for the US and Israel, and capitalism.

The libertarian government's economic record, meanwhile, is harder to dismiss than its political fortunes suggest. From an orthodox perspective, it is doing just what is needed to revive a stagnant economy and open up Argentina, long a byword for protectionism, to international investment. Milei has succeeded in his promise to rein in inflation: annual inflation stood at around 300% when he assumed power in December 2023 and is currently hovering at around 30%. Poverty has come down significantly. Investors are returning, enticed by a flagship regime targeting large-scale projects in oil, gas, mining and technology. His signature chainsaw is making real, if partial, cuts to the red tape that has long throttled Argentine business.

But growth is concentrated in capital-intensive sectors such as hydrocarbons and mining, which generate far fewer jobs than the traditional industries now under pressure, while manufacturing and construction remain weak. As a result, what Argentines want from Milei has changed. Inflation, the issue that helped propel him to power in 2023, matters less than it did. Increasingly, voters worry about job security, stagnant wages and expensive credit. A September poll by Analogías found that 65.6% of respondents prioritised wages and employment over price stability, compared with 27.1% who prioritised keeping prices stable.

On top of that, a series of corruption scandals involving people close to him – such as his sister-confidante and his former chief of staff – and an infamous crypto scam he directly promoted have severely dented his popularity.

Enter the Malvinas distraction, which smacks of desperation from a leader known for his stubbornness and firm positions. Early polls clearly indicate that the manoeuvre is not working, and Argentines are not buying Milei's sudden conversion to the sacred national cause.

Polling firm Analogías, which gauged attitudes towards the national government earlier this month, found that 61% of those surveyed distrusted the president's new stance. Of those, 49.8% said they did not believe him at all, while 11.2% said they believed him only a little.

A separate September survey by Management & Fit found that 61.1% believed Milei's renewed focus on the Malvinas was motivated by political convenience, compared with just 24.7% who thought it reflected genuine conviction. The findings suggest that while Milei may have succeeded in putting the sovereignty dispute back on the political agenda, many Argentines remain more concerned with their pay packets, and unconvinced by the timing of his new campaign.

Argentines did not fail to notice that some of Milei's new measures are, in fact, a rehash of an old, well-oiled playbook. Sanctions on companies involved in oil and gas exploration around the Malvinas date back to 2011, when Cristina Fernández de Kirchner was president. The proposed strengthening of those sanctions is a little more than a relaunch of an existing policy. The $200mn naval base in Tierra del Fuego, planned to keep a close eye on the disputed archipelago, is hardly a Milei invention either: the project began under the previous Peronist government and subsequently stalled amid his cuts to public spending.

Nor is Argentina short of hydrocarbons. The Vaca Muerta shale formation gives the country an enormous domestic energy resource, making the pursuit of costly offshore production around a remote archipelago economically less urgent. The latest sanctions tirade against the two firms exploring in the Falklands' Sea Lion field – Britain's Rockhopper Exploration and Israel's Navitas Petroleum – thus looks less like a long-planned strategy than an opportunity unwisely seized in the wake of Trump's intervention. And even Trump now seems to have realised he has kicked a hornet's nest, as he sought to defuse the issue in more recent comments. "I'm sure I'll be called into that potential disaster", he said last weekend while visiting Ireland, suggesting he would be able to "settle it out".

That fragile patronage, however, may be the least of Milei's problems, as Argentina's own history with the Malvinas cause is hardly reassuring. Despite its wide national support that crosses political lines, playing the sovereignty card does not bode well historically: the defeat in the Falklands war in 1982 hastened the collapse of the military dictatorship. The Kirchners' vigorous revival of the issue, framed as a matter of national identity and existential importance, did not help the Peronists survive the scandals and economic incompetence that marked their administration. This time the bluff, a poisoned chalice unwittingly served by Trump – who could walk back his support at any moment – is unlikely to aid Milei’s chances of re-election, and may end up sealing the fate of his bold, widely watched economic experiment.

Marco Cacciati is the Latin America editor at bne Intellinews.