The end of Pinochet

I promised my thoughts on Pinochet, and so here they are.

Pinochet and his supporters were adamant that he was different, that he did not take power for power’s sake, but rather to save the country from civil war and a Soviet/Cuban-backed takeover of the country. As a graduate student interviewing Chilean military officers in the 1990s I learned the importance of language. It was a “pronunciamiento,” not a “golpe.” It was a “regimen militar,” not a “dictadura.” This was true not only of the army, but the navy and air force as well.

Then and later I always got the clear impression that they respected Pinochet, not in a messianic sense, but rather from a respect for leadership and leading by example. Unlike the Somozas, Stroessners, and myriad others, Pinochet worked for the nation, not for his own selfish interests. Chile had faced a dire situation, and Pinochet had been forthright in addressing it. Plus, he had respected the results of the 1988 plebiscite and stepped down.

The Riggs Bank scandal punctured the image of selflessness, as we now know he stole over $20 million and funneled it into personal bank accounts. Continued work on Operation Condor (I am almost finished with an excellent book by Patrice McSherry on that topic, which is definitive, and I will review it on the blog in due time) shows he led an international effort not only to murder, but also to institutionalize murder. This makes it difficult to keep up the simple “he saved the country” argument, because no matter what you thought of Chilean politics on September 10, 1973, the next day he got a system going to terrorize the population, and even to kill many innocent people. It was done consciously, bureaucratically, and efficiently.

Therefore, his only “accomplishment” would be the restructuring of the Chilean economy, which began several years after the coup. This is the trickiest of his legacies. Chile now has the most dynamic and successful economy in Latin America. A reminder—we are talking in comparative terms. This does not mean Chile has solved the problems of poverty and inequality, or that it is a model that can be followed within the rules of democracy. But it did happen under his rule.

It also happened on the backs of workers, who were mercilessly crushed. It happened on the backs of the poor, as low income neighborhoods were commonly targeted for security sweeps. It created deep wounds that are not healed, and won’t ever be healed. No one can deny the economic stability, but neither can you deny the heavy costs associated with it.

Chileans pride themselves on being exceptions to Latin American rules. Chilean political history has Portales, Balmaceda, Arturo Alessandri (and Jorge, also a president but far less notable), Grove, Allende, Aylwin, among many more, and even Bachelet will fill those ranks of key political figures. They all had their weaknesses (some more extreme than others) but none were an embarrassment to the country. Pinochet is different. For all the rhetoric, he was not much different from other Latin American dictators who died in ignominy. He ruled by fiat (here I will note Robert Barros’ well-researched book on the ways in which the junta blocked him from time to time) he ordered people to be killed only because he did not like their politics, he enriched himself at the expense of the country, and put simply, he was a brute (while putting other brutes in positions of authority) and did considerable damage to Chile.

He will always be prominent in Chilean history, but I think almost entirely in a negative light. There isn’t much to mourn.

For LASA 2007, I am writing a paper on Chilean civil-military relations as part of a Chile panel I helped organize, so in particular I’ll be following the army to see how his death affects its relationship with the government and with society (which I think will improve, though not without complication). It’s a topic worthy of its own discussion.