Las Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo

Abuela means 'grandmother' in Spanish.
It's hard to know where to begin this sad story. Well, as you probably already know, Argentina has been on the cusp of first world status for, oh, about a hundred years now. Yet, every time the country gets close to getting its act together, political instability ends up eating up much of the progress made and plunges the country into chaos again. Amazingly, Argentina's GDP per capita is not much higher today than it was in the year 1900 and, though the country produces and exports approximately ten times as much food as is necessary to feed its population, it continues to teeter between prosperity and poverty.
Today we went to visit a group called 'Las Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo' - the grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo (a big gathering place within the city). In 1976 Argentina experienced a military coup whereby the elected Peronist government was forced out by the military. During the succeeding years up until 1982 (I think) the government conducted one of the most barbaric and repressive campaigns to supress dissident thought. Interestingly, most believe that it was Argentina's decision to go to war against the British (and its US ally) that eventually brought down the regime. Anyway, back to the abuelas.
During the military government, approximately 30,000 people 'disappeared'. Think about that - 30 THOUSAND. Some were student leaders, leaders of opposition parties, etc., but a great number were simply abducted due to the fact that they had associations with a person who was viewed as against the government. My spanish teacher described it as though they would disappear a 'person of interest' and then disappear everyone in his or her phonebook. Techniques for murder varied, but apparently a favored tactic was to drug the prisoners up and then toss them from aircraft over water. Today, the 'desaperacados' (the disappeared) remain unforgotten in Argentina.
The regime faced the challenge of what to do with the children (born and unborn) of the abductees. In many cases, people had young families or were embarazada (pregnant) at the time of abduction. When these people were 'disappeared' their families were taken and, those not killed, were given to the military elite, many of whom could not (or could not be bothered to) have children of their own. Unknown numbers of children were essentially stolen and grew up not knowing their true identity.
The Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo get their name for a protest that they have been carrying on since the early days of the regime each week in Plaza de Mayo. Imagine the courage of these women who had lost their sons, daughters and grandchildren to stand up and essentially 'dare' the military junta (group) to take them out. Today we had the opportunity to visit their office and to meet with one of the original abuelas.
The woman that we met with spoke extremely rapid spanish (is there any other kind?!), but I was able to understand some points. She lost two daughters to the regime, one of which was 8 months pregnant. To this day she does not know what happened to any of them.
There have been successes, however. Of more than 500 children that the abuelas have been searching for, they have found more than 80. A current controversy relates to whether DNA testing should be made mandatory for children and parents of this era. Many believe that a large number of 'stolen' children still do not truly know their identity.
Well, that was a bit of a long-winded post. I apologize, but I wanted to give the context. For anyone who's read the book (or seen the opera, as I did) of the Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood, this lamentable episode in Argentinian history has some eerie parallels.
The above picture illustrates the abuelas main source of funding. They receive no government funding (which I guess is typical) but depend on artists from around the world to undertake works on their behalf which they then sell to keep the organization going.
This concludes my somewhat informed writing on Argentine history for the day.
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