Parque de la Memoria

Compared to other monuments to the horrid acts that humanity is collectively capable of, the Parque de la Memoria wields a crucial symbolism that originates in its pure geography. Nestled between the silty waters of the Rio de la Plata and the Aeroparque Jorge Newbury, one is immediately confronted with a very personal, somber appreciation of the atrocities that transpired in Argentina some 25 to 35 years ago. Looking towards the city, the distraction of the commercial flights leaving the same runway that was once used by the military to propel the death flights that would cast the drugged, tortured and emaciated dissidents into the cold waters that separate Argentina from Uruguay is impossible to ignore. In the other direction, the dour, brown waves of the Rio de la Plata serve as an ominous cemetery for the same victims, the desaparecidos or disappeared, whose corpses still rest deep beneath the foreboding, watery horizon. Alongside the bodies of these victims of heinous state-terrorism, the depths of these waters also harbor the remains of Peronist statues that two successive dictatorships dumped into the river in attempts to erase and cleanse any collective memory and adoration towards Juan Peron and his celebrity wife, Eva Duarte. Experiencing modern Argentine politics and society today will show you what a failure that was of what was a futile goal to begin with.

Though the lifeless busts pale in importance to the lives affected by Argentina’s military history and the “Dirty War”, they still symbolize the extremity of what was nothing less than a civil war. Because of the one-sidedness of the use of violence, however, perhaps the words political cleansing are more appropriate, if far to polite. Estimates vary, but it is accepted that between 10,000 and 30,000 died in the hands of the military junta, a statistic that sounds atrocious but is also simply a statistic and doesn’t begin to become real until one walks along the four massive walls that zigzag through the park, memorializing and eternally preserving the names of every known desaparecido. The layout of the cenotaph is designed to resemble a deep gash, thereby symbolizing the sharp cleavage that the dictatorship cut into Argentina and the painful wounds in the hearts of victims’ families and loved ones that to this day remain unhealed. Though President Nestor Kirchner began the process of dismantling the amnesty clauses that the military inserted into the constitution that Argentine democracy currently operates under, many of the culprits of the state terrorism of the 1970s and 80s still have eluded justice. And while recent efforts to place accountability on those who bear blame are a positive step forwards, full resolution and justice seem like impossible goals. Perhaps it is too late. Time continues to reduce the proportion of Argentina’s populace that bore witness to life under authoritarianism. Today young adults have no real memory of this tragic past and as time goes by and Argentina moves forwards politically and economically, now that the nation is standing back on its feet following 2001’s economic collapse, it seems likely that this chapter of history will be forgotten rather than fully confronted. In this chapter of humanity, justice will have eluded history.

Pensar es un Hecho Revolucionario - Thinking is a Revolutionary Fact

A visit to the memorial is a ghastly affair. Reading the epitaphs of 16 year old desaparecidos is a difficult experience to confront. How could any persons commit such egregious and inhumanly acts to people so young – people who’s adult lives had yet to begin? And the memory of pregnant mothers who were disposed of because of their political beliefs or associations? We can read about Argentina’s “Dirty War” of the 1970s and 80s, but even a detailed look at the tens of thousands of desaparecidos engraved on the memorial walls of the Parque de la Memoria can’t in the slightest capture the human pain and suffering and the real story of every last individual that was disappeared; the thoughts and fears that ran through each person as the needle was thrust into their arm as they were forcibly drugged and loaded onto airplanes; the realization that they would never see their loved ones again; the ongoing terror within every family of the victim, who feared the worst but who never had closure or even confirmation.

Many of the desaparecidos had political affiliations with left wing groups but, though political persuasion should never be considered a crime, many of those targeted were also simply jews, university students, homosexuals, – even psychiatrists. In short, the military was fairly indiscriminate in its “process of national reorganization.” Another horrific detail of the decade lies in the children of “subversive” pregnant mothers who were stolen and given to infertile couples involved in the military. The mothers would be tossed aside and disappeared after giving birth whilst “good,” Christian Argentine families adopted their babies. To this day very little light has been shed on this topic. I once met someone whose family friend had unknowingly grown up under such circumstances. But after 30 years of growing up in what she deemed to be her legitimate family it seemed better to spare her of the truth of her origins. Is it better to keep such a massive secret from someone close to you or destroy their self-identity and family relationships – their anchors in life? It’s an impossible conundrum.

A short walk to the north from the memorial takes you to the Estadio Monumental, the home of the River Plate football club, as well as Argentina’s national team. In 1978, two years into the so-called “Dirty War”, the World Cup was held in Argentina and the stadium served as the main grounds for most of the fixtures, including the final between Argentina and the Netherlands. Another short walk to the north will take you by ESMA, or the Navy School of Mechanics, a building that was transformed into a torture and detention facility during the military years. Those lucky enough to survive the inhumane brutalities that occurred at ESMA have told stories of darkness and silence being interrupted by the tremendous resonance of screaming and 71,348 feet jumping at the stadium, less than half a mile away, during the final.  US cooperation in the Dirty War is a story worthy of its own annex.  US Secretary of State at the time, Henry Kissinger, is quoted as having told the military junta that "the quicker you succeed the better...if you can finish before Congress gets back, the better."

Let mankind remember and memorize its errors, so that we aren’t forced to spend time and resources building such somber memorials to our follies in the future.