June 14, 1982
In its attempt to restore military honor and the regime’s authority, and divert attention from the failing economy and their inexhaustible list of human rights violations, Argentina’s government tried and failed to invade the Falkland Islands. What it made many of its citizens believe would be a success through one of its preferred methods–misinformation–turned out to be a poorly considered political move driven by false ego. Well, suffice it to say, I’m pleased with the outcome for no reason other than that it is further proof of the regime’s incompetence. We can only hope this means free elections are in the near future. The regime is beating itself down, and we will be there to step in and make sure that it falls.
If it isn’t clear, I’ve been feeling a lot more confident in my opposition. Hopeful, even. You should’ve seen the crowd at the Plaza de Mayo today. I gathered with five thousand other angry Argentines to curse the military and that idiot Galtieri. It’s so cool to witness my fellow citizens reclaiming public space. It’s like a “fuck you” to the regime, to fear and pain, as well as a demand that we be heard, that our true history be acknowledged. I’m less scared, I can sense change is coming, the people are rising again. The disappearances seem to be slowing down, although I still hear of someone else being taken every week or so. Jesus, isn’t that crazy? That one disappearance a week–and that only includes people within my extended circle of contacts, friends of friends, acquaintances of acquaintances–is a hopeful number. That’s one of the most terrifying parts of this all; that disappearances are no longer surprising.
Well, my mother called the other day. She seemed distressed, like she always is, and said she wanted to come visit me. I told her I didn’t think it would be a good idea. I haven’t seen her, or my father, or Luis or Emile, in three years. I’m not yet ready to rekindle any kind of relationship with them. I don’t know if I ever will be. I can’t forgive them for disowning Fabricio, nor for pretending to their silence doesn’t make them complicit in his death.