As this regime enters a new decade, I can only wonder at how much longer this can possibly go on. People are no longer smiling at one another on the street; heads are kept down or straight forward to avoid standing out in any way. As the insurgents strike, the regime cracks down, and who is caught in the crossfire? Citizens. We have become disposable, an inconvenience or obstacle in the real war between the government and the guerillas, who both claim to be fighting on our behalf.
Just two years ago, when that bomb exploded in an apartment building (an apartment building), it was intended for the assassination of one individual, an admiral. I don’t know whether he deserved to die or not, but I also don’t know why those who lived in the apartment building were disposable. It seems that under this savage regime, a new kind of law exists, a law in which the true goal of repression is itself repression, and violence for the sake of terror and pain.
My father passed away last month; mama and I have been discussing his history, the history I told myself I couldn’t let tarnish the image of my father. She explained his role in the GI camps, where he directed the deaths of his charges with the calmness that can come only with the rational of following orders; I was devastated. True, I do believe my father was a good man, but he could be himself only when the savagery around him allowed his humanity to return.
What happened in Europe under Nazism is happening to Argentina (and Latin America) under the junta. But the Nazis were defeated after the nadir of the war; so what is our lowest point? How is it that things continue to go so wrong when it feels like our lowest point happened so long ago? Hope for change is a precious commodity these days, yet still, it exists.