The Hamilton Spectator

Fight for Justice Is Not Just a Film

- By NATALIE ALCOBA

BUENOS AIRES — The bones of a man had spoken.

For years, he was kept in a blue plastic box, one of hundreds of boxes containing unidentifi­ed remains believed to belong to victims of the brutal military dictatorsh­ip that ruled Argentina from 1976 to 1983.

Lying on a laboratory table in the Buenos Aires headquarte­rs of the Argentine Forensic Anthropolo­gy Team, his skeleton told a story: He was about 25 years old and stood 172 to 182 centimeter­s tall. Five gunshot wounds — one to the head, four to the pelvis — had killed him.

And now, more than 30 years since his discovery in a mass grave, he is on the verge of being identified.

“When they pass from having a number to having a name, it’s wonderful,” said Patricia Bernardi, a forensic anthropolo­gist and a founder of the team, a nonprofit that works on cases related to abuses committed under military rule.

The identifica­tion of victims is part of a broader effort to deliver justice and accountabi­lity 40 years after the end of the dictatorsh­ip, which is in the spotlight again because of “Argentina, 1985,” a film that earned an Academy Award nomination for best internatio­nal feature.

A historical drama, it depicts a real landmark trial that ended with the conviction­s of five members of the military junta, including the dictators Jorge Videla and Emilio Massera, who received life sentences. Four others were acquitted.

The military unleashed a wave of repression to eliminate so-called subversive­s: political dissidents, student activists, labor organizers, journalist­s, intellectu­als and clergy members. Human rights groups estimate that as many as 30,000 people were killed or disappeare­d during the dictatorsh­ip.

In the movie, a character based on a real-life prosecutor tells judges that the trial can help forge a peace based on justice and memorializ­ing the atrocities.

“This is our opportunit­y,” he says. “It may be our last.”

Rather than an end, those words, taken from the real closing arguments, were a beginning. Now, roughly 180 former military officials, police officers and civilians are being prosecuted for crimes against humanity. Some investigat­ions are focused on crimes committed in clandestin­e detention centers where hundreds were tortured and killed.

More than 1,100 military personnel, police officers and civilians have been convicted of crimes against humanity since 2006, including 58 last year.

The pursuit of justice has not been easy. After the 1985 trial, the government enacted laws that blocked most other prosecutio­ns. A former president also pardoned the convicted military commanders.

But in 2003, the Argentine Congress, responding to mounting public pressure, abolished those laws. In 2006, a court handed down the first sentence under a relaunched prosecutio­n process.

The forensic team’s work has been a key part of trials. More than 1,400 bodies have been recovered, with around 800 identified.

The team is keeping details about the man confidenti­al until his identifica­tion is confirmed, but he is believed to have been a prisoner of one of the detention centers. Evidence that emerged in trials involving people he was buried with helped to piece together a hypothesis about his identity.

Time is a looming enemy in the fight for justice: More than 1,000 people under investigat­ion have died, and so have victims and their relatives.

At one trial, Laura Treviño recalled the events of September 11, 1976, when she was 18. Six men in civilian clothes claiming to be part of the army arrived at her family’s home near Buenos Aires and took away her brother, Victor Treviño, 17, a left-wing activist agitating for lower student transit fares.

As the men led him out, his mother asked where he was being taken.

“‘You’ll find out soon,’ they told her,” Ms. Treviño testified. But they never did.

“That’s what we all want: to know what happened to him,” she testified. “To all of them.”

 ?? ANITA POUCHARD SERRA FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES ?? Pictures of missing people at the Naval Mechanics School in Buenos Aires. During Argentina’s dictatorsh­ip, the building was a center for detention, torture and killings.
ANITA POUCHARD SERRA FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES Pictures of missing people at the Naval Mechanics School in Buenos Aires. During Argentina’s dictatorsh­ip, the building was a center for detention, torture and killings.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada