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WSWS : Arts
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Reviews
The Battle for Chile: a heartfelt testament to Pinochet's
victims
By Paul Bond
13 March 1999
The Human Rights Watch Film Festival offered London audiences
a rare chance to see one part of Patricio Guzman's documentary
trilogy about the Allende government in Chile and the Pinochet
coup of 1973. Part Two of The Battle for Chile, The
Coup, was shown alongside Guzman's 1997 documentary Chile:
Obstinate Memory. Extra screenings had to be arranged to cope
with the demand for tickets for a film not seen in Britain for
20 years.
As Guzman acknowledges, much of The Battle for Chile
was filmed almost at random. His crew filmed widely around Santiago
during the election of Allende's Popular Unity government and
then through the coup. There is footage of demonstrations, debates,
occupations and military searches. The crew interviewed workers,
as well as incorporating televised interviews with government
leaders and political activists. The result is a powerful collage
of the political turmoil of the period, out of which emerges a
clear picture of some of the political debate taking place within
Chile at the time.
Part One of the trilogy details the far right's attempts to
organise against Allende, while Part Three deals with local anti-fascist
organisations. The Coup itself covers the period between
late June 1973 and the coming to power of the generals in September.
It is perhaps best known for the footage of the aerial bombardment
of La Moneda presidential palace, during which Allende was killed.
The film opens on June 29, when one battalion of the army prematurely
moved against the presidential palace. The military were stepping
up their attacks and there was a mass presence on the streets.
One of the most moving sequences in the film is that of an Argentinian
cameraman filming his own death, as soldiers fire into the crowd.
The tanks were unsupported by the rest of the army and were eventually
withdrawn. Most of the generals (Pinochet included), although
in favour of a coup, did not support one at this stage.
Something that the voice-over narration emphasises from the
outset is the willingness of the Chilean workers to come out onto
the streets to defend Allende. What it does not state, but which
still emerges from the juxtaposition of footage and narration,
is the extent to which Allende's actions were often hostile to
those workers prepared to fight in his defence. While workers
were coming out against the military and taking over factories,
Allende is seen constantly manoeuvring within parliament.
Guzman described the trilogy at a question and answer session
after the screening as a tribute to the Popular Unity government
period and Allende particularly. This was clearly the intention
of The Coup, but because of the way the film was made,
a more critical picture of the situation in Chile still emerges.
It is clear, for example, that the workers were a huge and potent
force. In the middle of July workers took the streets of the Vicuna
McKenna district. In the ensuing stand-off the mayor of Santiago
had to be called in to move the police two blocks away. Workers
are repeatedly seen demanding arms to defend Allende, arms which
Allende was denying them. An old member of the Communist Party
is seen warning that if the workers lose it will be like Spain
after the civil war.
The issue of arms crops up repeatedly. Allende, who refused
to create a workers militia, dismissed his police from La Moneda
before the bombardment began, leaving only 40 bodyguards. As the
coup approached, the military stepped up weapons searches in order
to gauge the strength of the workers. At the question session,
Guzman expressly disagreed that the refusal to arm the workers
had been a mistake. It would have been impossible, he said, because
the military would have known it was happening. In any case, it
was already known that the military were preparing a coup. In
other words, once it began the coup was inevitably going to be
a success. Yet even in the last few days before the coup, the
streets of Santiago were filled with mass demonstrations in defence
of Allende.
One of the most illuminating sequences shows a meeting of the
CUT (the Committee of Organised Workers, Chile's largest trade
union organisation). Here a worker demands the expropriation of
factories. A harassed union official makes it clear that factory
seizures are seen only as emergency measures against fascism and
suggests that expropriation would alienate Swiss investors. The
worker makes it clear that he does not share this concern for
the international banks. The evidence is clear that the desires
of the workers were thwarted by their leaders.
It is in such exchanges that the film is at its strongest.
Here is the real human stuff of a political crisis. A mother watches
the military search a graveyard for weapons and demands arms "to
protect those who cannot protect themselves". This film,
which wants to idolise Allende, gives a voice to those who were
becoming critical of him and were betrayed by him. In its clumsy,
painful way the film presents an honest picture of events as they
unfolded. Its deficiencies are offset by the raw truth of its
images. Smuggled out of Santiago in the boot of a Swedish embassy
car while Guzman was facing probable death in Santiago Stadium,
The Battle for Chile stands as a heartfelt testament to
the victims of the coup.
The limitations of Guzman's political outlook become more pronounced
in Chile: Obstinate Memory. Made in 1997, the film charts
both Guzman's visits to Chilean schools with The Battle for
Chile and the question of how memory works in relation to
1973. Where the earlier film was an attempt to film anything and
everything of interest happening around him, Obstinate Memory
has a much more leisurely and reflective pace. In discussion,
Guzman made clear that he is hostile to "journalism"
in documentaries, even though that is the greatest strength of
The Battle for Chile. He said that a documentary must contain
poetry in order to convey its truth. In Obstinate Memory
it is memory itself that is used as a poetic concept. To this
end artists, academics, and Guzman's uncle Ignacio (who smuggled
the film out) discuss both their own memories and their own conceptions
of memory. It is stressed that without the full information, no
attempt can be made to confront the past. Memory was taboo under
the dictatorship and Guzman is part of a movement towards reliving
the past cinematically.
The point is made several times that the youth of Chile today,
having grown up under the dictatorship, have no idea at all of
what actually happened in 1973. Guzman speaks of the need to defend
Allende's reputation against those who describe him as a madman,
a drunk, a womaniser, etc. But the real problem is actually explaining
to the schoolchildren that the economic miracle of Pinochet's
rule was not what they were told it was. There is some astonishing
footage of pupils repeating in good faith the lies of the ruling
elite--for example, that only 2,000 people were killed during
the whole 17 years of the dictatorship--which is then contrasted
with their appalled faces as they watch the trilogy.
The film is an awkward patchwork of a number of Guzman's favoured
motifs. In order to glorify Allende he interviews several of the
president's domestic staff, as well as some of his bodyguards
who try to identify themselves on photos and film clips. (He explained
later that he wants to make a documentary about the guards who
stayed and fought at La Moneda, one of whom we see revisiting
the palace for the first time since he was wounded at the gates
after Allende's death). He was trying to find some of the people
he filmed during The Battle for Chile and we see several
audiences who remember 1973, weeping as they watch that film.
It is clear that Guzman is facing his own memories too. Part
of the film is devoted to his cameraman on The Battle for Chile,
Jorge Muller Silva, who was later arrested, tortured and killed.
There is some discussion of Guzman's own experiences in Santiago
Stadium with a doctor who treated him there, and some eerie footage
of the stadium both empty and full of a riotous football crowd.
The moving moments here are more dignified in the aftermath
of defeat, but less potent. Allende's widow, Hortensia Bussi,
talks of still waiting to have his personal belongings returned
to her. A youth band play "Venceremos" in the streets
of Santiago for the first time since 1973. It is the younger faces
that look enthusiastic, the older faces look stunned. A school
teacher, almost unable to face her students, reveals for the first
time her belated sympathies with Popular Unity.
Guzman spoke of his desire to take a travelling exhibition
of films from the Allende period up and down Chile in order to
have a dialogue, especially with the young. He denounced talk
of a "transition" to democracy in Chile, pointing out
that many of the figures behind the coup are still behind the
military today. Clearly this makes it difficult for anyone attempting
to discuss the past. The difficulty is compounded in Guzman's
case because he idealises those who ultimately bear political
responsibility for opening the door to the military dictatorship.
His portrayal of Allende does not serve to illuminate the political
lessons that need to be learned from both the coup and the history
of the Popular Unity government itself.
See Also:
The significance
of Pinochet's arrest and the lessons of the 1973 coup
[5 December 1998]
"There
is no process of peace and reconciliation in Chile"
Chilean exiles in Britain speak to the WSWS
[2 December 1998]
Political lessons
of the Chilean coup
Statement issued by the Fourth International on September 18,
1973
[24 October 1998]
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