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Abuelas grandchildren a right to an identity

During Videla’s dictatorship which lasted from 1976 - 1978, 30 000 Argentineans disappeared. The government “derrotaron con secuestros de personas de todas las edades y condiciones sociales, políticas, religiosas.” (Vieira 2005: De Carlota) who opposed Videla’s dictatorship. “The victims, a third of whom were women, had belonged to all social classes and many were plainly innocent of any subversive links with guerrilla organisations.” (Rock 1986: 395) However it was not only those who were imprisoned who suffered, but the resulting damage impacted upon their entire families, and lead to a devastating grief which spread across three generations of Argentina’s population.

Some of those killed and ‘disappeared’ by the military either had young children or were pregnant at the time. “Between 1976 and 1978…(groups including) pregnant woman had all been hauled off to dungeons and torture chambers.” (Rock 1986: 395) Following the capture of these pregnant women, “nacieron los niños, a pesar de las condiciones inhumanas en que estaban sus mamas; mal-alimentadas, torturadas, violadas…” (Estela de Carlota), (Blaustein 1999) As for those babies, along with the young children taken when their parents were kidnapped, “It was widely rumoured, and in some cases later proved that many of the infants had been adopted by families connected with the government or the armed forces.” (Rock 1986: 386)

We must now consider the consequences that this must have had on the parents of those imprisoned under Videla’s regime; not only did they lose their middle-aged children, but they also lost their young grandchildren, and in some cases were never given the opportunity to see them even once. On top of this, the idea that their grandchildren could be growing up under the care of their own parents’ murderers without realising it was even more horrifying. These grandmothers came together, naming themselves Las Abuelas de La Plaza de Mayo, and with the aim of restoring the right to an identity of their missing grandchildren. One way in which their struggle has been demonstrated to the world is through the creation of documentaries, in particular Botín de Guerra, directed by David Blaustein. And Nietos, directed by Benjamin Ávila: Both of which had key roles to play in bringing the Abuela’s story to public attention.

In Botín de Guerra, I believe that Blaustein makes use of a number of elements to demonstrate the Abuela’s demand for their missing grandchildren’s right to an identity. The first role of the documentary is to demonstrate the severity of the situation and so to shock the viewer and evoke a sense of sympathy towards the Abuelas and their cause. The Abuelas are introduced through the testimonies of their experiences during the dictatorship. Blaustein uses the juxtaposition of images, whereby the audience sees screens alternating between present day screens of the Abuelas sitting in their homes, and screens showing older footage of the way in which prisoners were treated by the military at the time of the regime. Thus we see a harmless elderly woman sitting peacefully and comfortably in her home, and although each of the Abuelas appear to be in secure surroundings, the stories that they tell along with the footage of the violence experienced by their children, are of a completely contrasting nature to the image of serenity which now surrounds them. Although we know that the voice of each Abuela is coming from the safety of her own home, the shocking and cruel realities told by each voice belongs to the flashback images of the forceful brutality carried out by the military upon their victims. One such testimony tells of the kind of fear that no person should have to experience, let alone a defenceless grandmother; “Me pusieron revolveres en la cabeza, exigiendo a mi que diga dónde esta mi hijo” (Berta Shubaroff), (Blaustein 1999). This first major role of Botín de Guerra is realised effectively and the viewer is filled with a sense of injustice and shock at the treatment of the Abuelas. This is initiated from the very beginning of the film by referring to past atrocities of the brutal conquest of Argentina. Paintings by Enrique Beccia are shown, depicting the time “cuando este ejército intenta exterminar a los aborígenes de aquella época, se apropian de sus nietos, se apropian de esos hijos” and this parallels the way in which the military “lo iban a hacer después de la dictadura a partir de 1976” explains Blaustein (Vieira 2005: Blaustein).

Botín de Guerra leaves its audience with a portrait of the abuelas suffering, and this in turn allows us to sympathise with them and their cause. This is a fundamental aspect of the documentary because it leaves us with the kind of understanding of their situation and reasons for fighting for the rights of their grandchildren to a true identity, which could not be obtained from reading a text book or through viewing a commercial film. What we observe is true emotion and through this, a viewer from any part of the world is enabled to comprehend a circumstance that, before seeing the documentary, would be very difficult to imagine, as the Abuelas’ story is something that very few people have ever had to experience.

However I believe that one of the most impressive aspects of the documentary, and its second main role, is the way in which each Abuela converts her initial feelings of negativity into a positive determination to find her missing grandchildren and to make a difference. We learn how the Abuelas had to face patronising reactions from the government and the police, who refused to give them any answers and yet still carried on with their fight for justice. No fue fácil instalar este tema en la sociedad porque ésta estaba muy influenciada por el discurso oficial. En ese entonces, nosotras éramos mujeres raras buscando unos hijos que eran terroristas o subversivos, y toda la culpa de todos los males era de ellos porque eso decía la dictadura. Tuvimos que cambiar la mentalidad social – nos marginaban, nos trataban como locas – para poder instalar en la sociedad el lenguaje y la consigna clara de que la dictadura nos afectó a todos. (Vieira 2005: De Carlota) As we can see, the Abuelas certainly had a fight on their hands; but the documentary reveals how they came from being viewed as a group of ‘crazy old ladies’ to being seen today a collective of strong and determined women who let nothing come in their way. Botín de Guerra reveals the intelligence of the Abuelas, who used the fact that they were not seen as a threat by the government. They held meetings in public places in which the communicated using a coded language; “simulábamos cumpleaños…y por debajo de la mesa, nos alcanzábamos el papel para firmar.” (Elsa Pavón), (Blaustein 1999)

When it came to the search for their grandchildren, the Abuelas all pulled together and planned strategies; “Las abuelas hemos hecho de empleada doméstica, de vendedores de libros, hemos hecho encuestas, hemos hecho de todo.” (Matilde “Sacha” Artés Company, Botín de Guerra). This was certainly not the work of a group of “locas”, but the well planned and successfully executed arrangement of an intelligent unit. This fact comes through clearly and effectively to the audience and is another important role of the documentary; it dismisses any negative preconception that anyone may have held of the Abuelas, and gives a personal portrait of each one of them fighting together for a common goal.

Botín de Guerra shows not only the goals of these women, but also the way in which they fought against the odds to achieve so much. The audience learns that the Abuelas have “encontrado 81 nietos hasta ahora, falta.” (Vieira 2005: De Carlota) and on top of this, their work “abrió caminos muy novedosos en la ciencia de la genética porque, para identificar a los nietos, necesitamos el aporte de la sangre que se hereda del papá y de la mamá. Pero ellos no están y las abuelas servimos la sangre necesaria para lo que se llama “índice de abuelidad”.” (Vieira 2005: De Carlota). Politically, Botín de Guerra demonstrates how the Abuelas protested to see justice done to those who kidnapped their grandchildren. When “the military regime decreed its long-awaited amnesty, the Law of National Pacification” (Rock 1986: 386) which served to bring about the “reconciliation and super session of past tragedies,” (Rubio: 473) the Abuelas among other groups “flatly denounced the measure and pledged to annul it.” (Rock 1986: 386). This pardoning was frustrating for them, but the audience sees their drive to bring about justice; “no nos impidío seguir adelante, al contrario, parece que nos daba más fuerza.” (Berta Shubaroff), (Blaustein 1999)

The third and final main role of Botín de Guerra was to also represent the stories of those grandchildren that have been found. The viewer sees young adults who, through the work of the Abuelas, were finally allowed to understand their true identity. Some were living with those who killed their biological parents and suffered domestic abuse, forbidden to ask questions about their true identity. The inclusion of truly touching testimonies of the grandchildren is another important aspect of both Botín de Guerra and Nietos. They describe the way in which they always doubted their identity from a young age, and some experienced nightmares. “Yo sabía que había algo raro, yo sabía que yo no era igual a todo el resto de la gente…me sentía que mi vida no era normal.” (Juan Pablo Moyano) (Ávila 2004).

The audience also sees the great sense of relief and peace experienced by all concerned following reconciliation in both documentaries. “Es muy importante, creo yo, para mí tener mi fecha de nacimiento real o saber la edad que tengo realmente.” (María de las Victorias Ruiz), (Ávila 2004) This is an extremely vital role of the documentary because it not only allows all viewers a personal insight into their lives, but also means that anyone watching who may have similar experiences of uncertainty about their identity is opened to the possibility that they could also be one of the many grandchildren who are still missing. “Inevitablemente, cuando ellos se enteran que puede ser que no sean quienes son, esa semilla de la oruga ya esta plantada. Si no es hoy, será dentro de 10 o 15 años, pero en algún momento será. Ellos solos se van a buscar, inevitablemente” (Vieira 2005: Ávila)

Both documentaries demonstrate both the negative impacts felt by grandchildren from not knowing their true identity, but also the positive impact that they experienced after having their identity restored to them. Thus the importance of the Abuelas demand for a right to an identity for their grandchildren is effectively shown to the viewer. As Ávila states, the fact that a seed of doubt will be planted into the minds of those who are possibly unfound grandchildren is fundamental. Nietos ends by providing information of what to do “Si tienes dudas sobre tu identidad o crees ser hijo de desaparecidos” (Ávila 2004). This makes one role of the documentary clear; to play a part in publicising the Abuelas search, and to hopefully reach out to more grandchildren.

Another important role of Nietos is to expose the government’s and the military’s corruption to the viewer. We see the mass-excavation of the graves of desaparecidos, which “renewed public outrage over” their “fate”. “Mass graves containing hundreds of unidentified…corpses were discovered...The pressure to render accounts for the past and to exact retribution were mounting.” (Rock; 1986, pg. 393) Thus a demonstration of the remains of desaparecidos in Nietos evokes a sense of reality to the viewer; we are not only observing people as they give testimonies, but we are seeing the remains of what could easily be their loved ones. The immensity of the government’s genocide is exposed, and as well as this we observe their deception. The audience learns how some families were falsely informed that the children of their disappeared relatives had died, and even held a funeral for them, burying an empty coffin. One grandmother commented that “Si se tomaran el moleste de enterrar un cajón solo, con unas ropitas, eso quiere decir que la nena se habrían llevado porque” if they truly did have a corpse to bury, “le hubiera puesto allí” (Ávila 2004). As with Botín de Guerra, the role of shocking the audience is used here: If they had had any doubts before as to the justification the Abuela’s fight, they should be effectively dispelled by this shocking reality.

Therefore both documentaries present the audience with a group of women who are firstly justified in their fight, who are secondly determined and intelligent, having already seen many personal, political and scientific achievements, and who thirdly truly bring positive change into the lives of their grandchildren. Ávila explains that Nietos shows “que, en realidad, los hijos de estos nietos que recuperaron su identidad están creciendo por primera vez en la verdad, no como los nietos que crecieron en la mentira y en algún momento se enteraron de la verdad.” (Vieira 2005: Ávila) In conclusion, although both documentaries go about this in different ways, both have one main role; this is to give its audience a true and personal insight into the struggle of Argentina’s Abuelas de la Plaza de Mayo. It is effectively proven that these women are not only vindicated in their demand for justice, but that they have already made and continue to make many positive advances in this demand.

. Bibliography Blaustein, David (1999), Botín de Guerra/ Spoils of War Ávila, Benjamin (2004), Nietos Vieira, Else R. P and Olivera, Guillermo (2005), ‘Interviews by Else R. P. Vieira with David Blaustein, Estela De Carlota, Benjamin Ávila’, in Screening Exclusion: Brazilian and Argentine Documentary (2001 – 2005), (Argentina: Preliminary transcription) Rock, David (1986), Argentina 1516 – 1987; From Spanish Colonisation to the Falklands War and Alfonsín (London: I.B Taurus & Co. LTD)

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