Bethan McGarry on Chile's Bicentenario: A Year to Forget?

By: Bethan McGarry

December 10, 2010

This year was a significant one for the country of Chile. 2010 is the 200 year anniversary of Chile's independence, though the exact year of the event is slightly controversial; the government of Chile's website describes it diplomatically as celebrating 200 years of “republican life.” It is a year to which Chileans almost invariably attached a lot of significance and hope. During the Bicentenario celebrations in September I heard from many Chileans personally and in the media that this anniversary was widely viewed as an opportunity to celebrate the Chilean people, reflect on their history, feel proud of what Chile is and stands for, and plan for a bright future.

That being said, as the final month of 2010 progresses inevitably towards a new year with less significance, many publications and news channels are commenting on just how tragic the year 2010 has been for Chile. Chile has spent much of the year in the international spotlight thanks to events we are all aware of, like the devastating terremoto (earthquake) of this past March and the several-month saga of the 33 trapped miners in Copiapó. Even more than these globally attention-grabbing events, however, the Chilean people seem to have had a streak of bad luck with several horrible accidents, a rash of murders by ex-lovers, and riots in various parts of the country due to political unrest between the government and the indigenous community. As 2011 looms and this historic year draws to a close, I ask myself, as Chile is now asking itself, what exactly this year has shown the country about its national identity and role in the global community in the twenty-first century. I cannot provide any concrete answers to these questions, as I doubt that anyone can, but merely wish to reflect on what has happened this year in Chile, what it could signify about the country, and how much more related than I can imagine the recent past may be with Chile´s strength moving forward.

The first major tragedy to occur this year was the terremoto on February 27. This was, of course, a natural disaster, but the manner in which the government of Chile dealt with the aftermath has come under scrutiny since; former president Michelle Bachelet and her administration had to undergo an investigation for the manner in which they underestimated the extent of damage from the earthquake and denied international aid that could have helped more people and faster. Some criticized the failure to announce clear tsunami indications that could have prevented more death and destruction. Other criticisms include accusations of slow aid, little done to prevent looting, and inefficient responses.

The Chilean people reacted with almost universal strength to the disaster; a very popular song at the time urged listeners to arriba la vida and sigue bailando, which roughly translates to “keep your head up to make life better, keep dancing.” The sense of unity in the country was almost tangible after the earthquake, according to my host mom, though since we live in a wealthier part of the city of Viña del Mar she noted that my host siblings probably did not feel the societal implications of the earthquake as strongly as in poorer areas and regions. Despite all the goodwill and best efforts of the government to repair as many homes that were damaged as possible, remnants of the earthquake are still very present in the city of Valparaíso, where I attend university. The ascensores, or funiculars, of Valparaíso are one of the most famous parts of the city, but of the 15 that once were in use, only three currently function. Half-finished projects lie around every corner, a handful of museums and theaters remain closed almost a year later, and even some residences are still in shambles. The way in which Chile reacted to the earthquake could not really be called a triumphant welcome to a year meant to be dedicated to celebrating its progress as a nation.

The situation of the trapped miners in Copiapó fortunately had a much more positive outcome; there were no fatalities, and none of the 33 miners suffered lasting or fatal health repercussions from the incident. In many ways, Chile united once again in the name of the safe return of their miners, and it was incredibly inspiring to see the way in which everyone, young and old, was completely wound up in the events happening in a small mining town in the north of Chile. I watched no less than three Chilean adults cry as the miners emerged one after another on national television, and was more than a little bit moved myself at the sight of President Piñera embracing each life-drunk miner upon their emergence onto the surface. At the same time, however, the fact that this accident could occur reflects on less favorable elements of Chilean society. Mines are incredibly dangerous and extremely prevalent in Chile, and some failure of safety regulations enforcement caused one to collapse on top of 33 human beings, despite the fact that that mine in particular had a history of being dangerous, and a death had occurred there shortly before the collapse in August. It also highlighted the discrepancy that exists between the miners themselves and the wealthy and powerful businesspeople who hire them, in many ways groups that lie at opposite ends of the spectrum in Chilean socioeconomic terms; the miners had complained about the unsafe working conditions before the collapse occurred, but their concerns were ignored by the company that owned the mine. An interesting element of the events in Copiapó, though one I hesitate to designate as having a positive or negative reflection on Chile, is the fact that the rescue was widely attributed to faith and God, even by the Chilean government; a fact perhaps not so surprising given Chile's nature as a Catholic country. All in all, the rescue of the miners was an impressive feat and a very happy event for the country to celebrate together, but it did bring about some shocking realizations in the midst of preparations for Dieciocho (September 18, Chile's official date of independence) and the Bicentenario.

The other events that have occurred have gotten attention on a much smaller scale, but have certainly served to lower the morale of the Chilean people. A hunger strike and several riots in the capital of Santiago by representatives of the Mapuche, the largest indigenous tribe in Chile from the central region of the country, limited the government´s actions and took attention away from Bicentenario celebrations while simultaneously reminding the nation about the elements in its history, remnants of which are still prevalent in society today, of discrimination, genocide, and manipulation of native peoples. A horrible bus accident on the main highway between Santiago and the coast at the end of November killed 19 people, most of whom were just following their normal morning commute into work. The deeper causes of the accident are still unknown, but the Chilean government has acknowledged that supervision of transportation systems in Chile needs to be at least doubled before 2011. A fire this past week in a severely overcrowded prison near Santiago has left at least 83 inmates dead and highlighted yet again severe systemic shortcomings in what many call Chile´s “inhumane” prison network; nineteen hundred prisoners were housed in a facility that was built for 700, the notification to authorities of the blaze came from a prisoner rather than a prison official, and firefighters were allegedly initially not allowed entrance to the prison by guards. Finally, news broke only today that a 10 year old boy was killed by a stray dog in the northern mining town of Calama. This is an accident that could happen anywhere in the world, but it seems especially significant in a country like Chile where stray dogs, or perros callejeros, are an endemic problem that generally are not regarded as a problem at all. As Ryan Maxwell observed in his letter on the stray dogs of Valparaíso, many Chileans see the callajeros as a charming part of the landscape, a perspective which completely ignores the very real animal suffering, sanitary hazards, filth of city streets caused by uncared-for animals, and evident danger to humans that this issue of stray dogs presents.

Though I am aware that 2010 is the only year in which I personally have had firsthand experience of Chile and its smaller scale current events, the national sentiment here currently certainly gives me the sense that this has been a much harder year than most. The nature of several of the tragedies that have occurred have served to remind myself and my fellow study abroad companions that Chile is a country still in recovery from very recent atrocities, and whose government has basically spent the past 20 years building itself anew and redefining (perhaps) the legacy left by Pinochet´s regime. It still comes as a shock to realize that almost all of the people we interact with on a daily basis here in Chile lived through that period, in sharp contrast with the distance I feel between myself and major historical conflicts in the United States, like for example the Civil War or even Vietnam War protests and the Civil Rights Movement. Here it is hard to find people willing to discuss the Chile that existed under Pinochet, and even in discussions about current issues, like those mentioned above, I have met resistance and avoidance of the subject when I articulate obvious connections between a social or systemic pattern today and the recent extended state of military rule imposed on the entire country.

Chile is an endlessly fascinating place, and as my time here comes to a close I wonder if I should have tried harder to understand better the relationship between Chilean people and their recent tumultuous past. Having said that, however, I honestly do not think that I could have; the reason for this being that Chile has not decided the nature of this relationship. It isn't a theme widely talked about, the mere mention of Pinochet´s name can still spark arguments that divide families, and there seems to be no widespread awareness that many of Chile's shortcomings stem from the recent dictatorship. Perhaps the events of this Bicentenario year, and the unlikely volume of disasters and tragedies that interrupted Chile's attempts to celebrate its very real successes as a global economic and political power after 200 years of democracy, can serve as a harsh reminder that the good does not come without the bad, and genuine progress cannot occur without acceptance and acknowledgment of the past.

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