Patio 29. Tras la Cruz de Fierro

Abstract

First is the history of the grounds of Patio 29, which was used as a silent grave for unknown victims of the military dictatorship in the seventies, and then became the object of legal investigations and exhumations in the nineties; it was left a barren lot until it was finally recognized as a National Historical Monument in 2006. [...]it is the story of the family members who never left off their search, and their long road of hope, desperation and unyielding dedication, as they faced the disappearance of their loved ones during the dictatorship; and then their re-disappearance under democracy as the bodies they received from the responsible governmental institution turned out to be wrongly identified. [...]it is the factual account of how government institutions piled error upon doubt in the exhumation and identification process of the detained disappeared of Patio 29, revealing the difficulty of the democratic government to address what had happened under the military dictatorship. In six short chapters, each dedicated to a different period in time (1973-2009), the book sets out to acquaint the reader with the historical facts of the Patio 29 case and to let him empathize with the experience of Patio 29 by looking at the photographs and reading the testimonies of the family members, two of which have been reproduced integrally at the end of the book.

- Patio 29. Tras la Cruz de Fierro, by Javiera Bustamante and Stephan Ruderer; photos by Mara Daruich (+ DVD). Santiago de Chile: Ocholibros Editores, 2009.1

The General Cemetery of Santiago de Chile is a beautiful place. It is also a stunning mirror image of the 'city of the living'. Its extensive grounds are crossed by broad shady lanes and its quiet family mausoleums stand behind the majestic Recoleta entrance. From the metro station, you can enter the side entrance through a gallery of flower stalls and food sellers and walk the straight little streets of the colourful pavilions and graveyards with simple crosses and football flags. At this side entrance you will find the Memorial del Detenido Desaparecido y Ejecutado Político, and walking some ten minutes from there you will arrive at an empty 'patio' full of old iron crosses: Patio 29. A sign will tell you that the empty lot you are looking at is 'an emblematic place of the human rights violations that took place between 1973 and 1990 as it was used to cover up the bodies and identities of the detained disappeared and politically executed during the military regime'. Today the Memorial and the 'mythical Patio 29' form part of the 'popular route' set out by the Cemetery for visitors. They are not part of the 'patrimonial route' which runs along the graves of 'those leaders of Chile who marked our history' (brochure Circuitos Turísticos of the General Cemetery).

The story of Patio 29 related in the book Patio 29 Tras la Cruz de Fierro has three themes. First is the history of the grounds of Patio 29, which was used as a silent grave for unknown victims of the military dictatorship in the seventies, and then became the object of legal investigations and exhumations in the nineties; it was left a barren lot until it was finally recognized as a National Historical Monument in 2006. Second, it is the story of the family members who never left off their search, and their long road of hope, desperation and unyielding dedication, as they faced the disappearance of their loved ones during the dictatorship; and then their re-disappearance under democracy as the bodies they received from the responsible governmental institution turned out to be wrongly identified. And third, it is the factual account of how government institutions piled error upon doubt in the exhumation and identification process of the detained disappeared of Patio 29, revealing the difficulty of the democratic government to address what had happened under the military dictatorship.

The book Patio 29 Tras la Cruz de Fierro must be placed in a series of recent publications of (photo)books and academic writings on monuments, memorials, and 'lugares de memoria' of the Southern Cone. There is also a growing fascination in the international human rights community with 'memorialization' and its relation to the highly desired reconciliation of divided societies. In the human rights policy of the Bachelet government 'symbolic reparation' and 'patrimony of human rights' became buzz words and generated both attention and (modest) funds for monuments and 'places of memory'. This book combines the well written and thorough historical analysis of Patio 29 together with the personal stories of family members of the detained disappeared. In six short chapters, each dedicated to a different period in time (1973-2009), the book sets out to acquaint the reader with the historical facts of the Patio 29 case and to let him empathize with the experience of Patio 29 by looking at the photographs and reading the testimonies of the family members, two of which have been reproduced integrally at the end of the book. The book is not only a tribute to the courage of the family members; it is also a window on the struggle of Chilean society in the aftermath of the military dictatorship.

Visually Patio 29 Tras la Cruz de Fierro is an attractive book. There is a subtle interplay between the abundant colour photos of Patio 29 and the black and white photos of the interviewees during the interviews. The DVD that also comes with the book contains a short film made by Javiera Bustamante. It gives the reader the opportunity to virtually visit Patio 29 led by the voices of three family members, with snippets taken from interviews for the book, and the solemn music of Jorge Muñoz.

I would have liked to read more on the authors' analysis of Patio 29 as a site of contestation of memory of the military dictatorship, and of demands for truth and justice. Over the years I have visited Patio 29 many times, especially on September 11, the day of the coup in 1973. The yearly protest march that departs from La Moneda, the presidential palace in the centre of Santiago, winds itself through the city until it arrives at the General Cemetery. The Memorial, Patio 29 and the tomb of Victor Jara are part of this itinerary of protest, an element that is little touched upon in the book. I also missed historical pictures of both the Memorial and Patio 29, which could have visually underpinned the chapters on the history of Patio 29.

The two young authors Javiera Bustamante (anthropologist) and Stephan Ruderer (historian) are fresh voices in the debate on memory and the military dictatorship in Chile. The combination of their expertise has resulted in an important historical book written with empathy, feeling, and clear analysis. Patio 29 Tras la Cruz de Fierro tells the story of ordinary people, who marked the history of Chile.

Footnote

Note

1. The book can be ordered through the publisher's website: www.ocholibros.cl.