The sage of Montevideo

“REPUBLICS entered the world to affirm that men are basically equal,” declares José Mujica. Uruguay’s president abhors the red carpets, the soldiers with cornets and the “monarchical” paraphernalia that are the trappings of modern office. “If democracy means representing the majority,” he explains, “as a symbol I think that those with the highest responsibilities should live like the majority do, not the minority.”

That is what he does, almost to the point of caricature. He drives an ancient VW Beetle. He lunches in the bars on Montevideo’s main street. He commutes from his three-roomed farmhouse of grey concrete, reached down a track on a featureless plain, 20 minutes from the centre of Montevideo. Gruff but with a twinkle in his gimlet eyes, it was there that he received Bello. He was dressed in a beige fleece, brown tracksuit bottoms, leather sandals and black socks. He sat on a low stool in his study, his guests on battered chairs of formica and metal.