The Disappeared

“If you tremble indignation at every injustice

then you are a comrade of mine.” Che

Argentina is a nation disrupted. Economic upheaval, social unrest, political overthrows... constant change is a way of life. It is a nation that gave the world some strong political personalities (think Che Guevara, Eva Peron), and there's a passion in its people for staring down injustice. Marches, demonstrations and rallies for "the cause" (whatever that may be) are an integral part of the culture.

While I was there, one of the more recent demonstration activities was taking place in a large park in the southern part of the city, with a small fraction of representatives gathering in the middle of the 18-lane Avenida 9 de Julio. The people are upset that land and adequate shelter are beyond their grasp and are demanding housing subsidies. They had squatted in the park and on a median in the middle of the street, claiming the land as their own. Men were staging a hunger strike, and I passed them on day 29 of their efforts. The squatters were receiving media attention, but to my knowledge, had not been acknowledged by the government. Read more here.

My travel book distills Argentine politics well: "For the majority of Argentineans, politics has thrown up more damage than the worst trials and tribulations of the economy. While there have always been caudillos (political-military dictators), almost all Argentinians view the generals who ran the country during the 1976-1983 period as tyrants. However, national politics since the military dictatorship has been relatively stable and peaceful, and while democracy has brought its own set of problems for Argentinians, few would exchange today's elected leaders for the dictators of the past."

The tyrants referred to above, were responsible for what is known as The Dirty War, a period of state-sponsored violence during the military reign. Numbers vary, but during that time, up to 30,000 Argentine citizens "disappeared." Los Desaparecidos (The Disappeared) were mostly innocent young people - teachers, artists, students, writers - who had been deemed agitators or terrorists, perhaps because they held social gatherings as a guise to discuss politics, or for other reasons not clear at all. They were tortured, killed and then disposed of - buried in mass graves, or tossed in the Rio de la Plate to be swept away. It is a dark spot on Argentina's history, but true to the culture, it is far from being suppressed or forgotten. The Disappeared are memorialized and remembered in many ways.

Plaques on the sidewalk, throughout the city...


Club Atlético, a site that had been plowed over to create the freeway that runs above it, is now an excavation plot and memorial to The Disappeared (although it is fenced off, and progress toward its completion seems at a standstill). The remains of more than 1,500 people have been recovered here.



And of course, the weekly demonstrations by the Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo (The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo) - a vigil that has taken place every Thursday for more than 30 years. The mothers and supporters gather in Plaza de Mayo, in the shadow of the Casa Rosada (the office of the nation's president), and remember those that were lost in a stirring ceremony. They wear white head scarves on which their children's names are embroidered, to symbolize the blankets of the lost children. Their cause has moved beyond the issue of The Disappeared; it is now a worldwide human rights organization.