| An
Interview with Viviana Diaz
Chile Has Not Forgotten By Chris
Ney
met Viviana Diaz in 1991 while researching a master’s thesis on Chile’s Sebástian
Acevedo Movement Against Torture, a human rights movement that used direct action
to protest torture under the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet. It was the second
time I had been in Chile; the first was in 1988, when I was a human rights observer
during the plebiscite that ended the junta and restored democracy to Chile. Last
November, when I came back to Santiago as a visitor, I saw Díaz again and conducted
the following interview with her (in Spanish).

In the Peace Park where the Villa Grimaldi concentration camp used to be, a wall
of remembrance for the camp’s victims. Photo by Allison Ney.
That
was a few months after Díaz had become president of the Agrupación de Familiares
de los Detenidos-Desaparecidos—the Association of Families of the Detained and
Disappeared—following the sudden death of its former president, Sola Sierra, from
complications after surgery. The AFDD had long been viewed as one of the most
daring components of Chile’s human rights community; since the 1998 arrest of
former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet in London, the organization—and Díaz
in particular—had become international spokespeople for the effort to extradite
Pinochet to stand trial for torture and crimes against humanity. This conversation
took place while Díaz , the AFDD and the world waited for a final decision about
the extradition from British Home Secretary Jack Straw. On March 2, Straw ruled
Pinochet unfit to stand trial and allowed him to return to Chile, where he faces
dozens of charges in the Chilean courts. To begin,
tell me a little of your own story and how you became involved in the Agrupación.
Well, my father, Victor Díaz López, has been detained-disappeared since May
12, 1976, the date on which security agents of the Pinochet regime found him after
searching for 32 months. At the time of the military coup on September 11, 1973,
my father was Subsecretary General of the Communist Party and National Director
of the Central Unica de Trabajadores de Chile [Chile’s central labor union], so
he was sought immediately and had to begin living clandestinely. We did not see
him during those 32 months, but we knew through third parties that he was well,
that he was in Chile, and that he relied on us not to do anything that would lead
the authorities to him.
 |
‘Imagine
that! I have spent half my life looking for my father.’ Viviana Díaz tells her
story. Photo by Allison Ney. | Until that
time in May when someone advised us by telephone that he had been detained by
an operative of the DINA [the junta’s intelligence service]. Someone who knew
where he could be found communicated with agents of the DINA, and about 25 agents
arrived. According to the testimony of people who witnessed the event, the agents
interrogated him and beat him in that house where they found him. From there they
said they were going to take him to a detention camp known as Cuatro Alamos, but
he did not arrive there. People who were detained at another camp, Villa Grimaldi,
reported that [he arrived there] and remained in solitary confinement for many
months in a place inside Villa Grimaldi which was known as the Tower. That was
the place for the prisoners the regime considered most dangerous, most subversive;
the treatment that those prisoners received was the most horrific. A witness who
saw him at the end of the first month said he was in very bad condition. He had
been brutally tortured—they hung him by his wrists for many days, and they burned
his chest with a blowtorch. We went to the Tribunals of Justice and asked
for an interview with the president of the Supreme Court, who at that time was
José Maria Izaguirre. We told him everything related to the tortures. He said
to us, “What an imagination you have. These things don’t occur in Chile. You are
lying.” We went to the Vicaría de la Solidaridad [the human rights arm of Chile’s
Catholic church, established after the coup], and they offered us legal assistance.
Through them we submitted the first recurso de amparo [analogous to a writ of
habeas corpus] but it was rejected [as were subsequent recursos] with the response
that the Ministry of the Interior gave to the Tribunals of Justice at that time:
That the person on whose behalf the petition had been filed had not been arrested,
nor did there exist an arrest order against him. Yet my house had been raided
many times by the military forces looking for my father, and on more than one
occasion I had been shown the arrest order for him. So when they said that the
order did not exist we knew they were lying to us. That had such an impact
on me. When I left the Tribunals I promised myself at that moment that I would
struggle and do everything within my reach to get justice in Chile someday. In
some parts there are still people who do not believe us, or they act like they
don’t believe us, when we talk about [places like] Villa Grimaldi. They say that
such a place did not exist and that these things don’t happen in Chile. Little
By Little How did you get involved with the AFDD? At
the Vicaría we were greeted by other families who had also lost one or more of
their loved ones. During the first months, my mother and I resisted joining them
because we could not accept that prisoners could disappear after being arrested.
It took a lot of time for me to accept the reality. We went running from the hospital,
to the police stations, to the jails, to the concentration camps that existed;
we made the same rounds that many other families had made before us. And little
by little, we began to incorporate ourselves into this organization, the Organization
of Family Members of the Detained-Disappeared. We acted together in hunger strikes
and street demonstrations. Today it is easy to go into the street and do any kind
of demonstration, but before, it was a genuine risk, a true audacity. When
did the demonstrations start? We began to go into the street in 1977.
In that year we did the first hunger strike in the office of CEPAL [the Economic
Commission for Latin America, a U.N. agency based in Santiago]. In ’78 there was
a much larger strike in response to Decreed Law of Amnesty 2191 that was Pinochet’s
law of self-pardon—during all these years it has been the principle obstacle to
justice. Our hunger strike lasted 17 days and received international solidarity.
After the coup many Chileans went into exile. The doors of Europe opened for Chileans,
so in about 100 cities of Europe and Asia and Africa there were Chileans who went
on the hunger strike in solidarity with us. All of the mobilizations that we did
helped our country because until that moment they doubted the existence of the
problem. They said that we were the supposed families of the people who supposedly
disappeared in strange circumstances. How old were you when all this
happened? When my father was detained I was 23 years old. Imagine that!
I have spent half of my life looking [for my father]. Given this very
sad story, how do you maintain hope and the energy you need to give to the Agrupación?
When you search for a loved one, a person who was arrested, tortured, murdered
and disappeared, who never committed any crime, that gives you the strength to
continue searching. I believe that nothing justifies what they did to him or to
so many other opponents of the military regime, because a person has the right
to dissent. No one can steal that right and take away the life of another. They
committed very grave violations of human rights, things so terrible that they
cannot remain amnestied. They have to be investigated and punished because these
crimes were committed by human beings, by Chileans against Chileans. I have heard
so many stories about the detained—for example, the pregnant mothers who gave
birth in captivity and no one knows now where the children born in captivity are.
What happened to them? When one sees the other families here, whose children
have grown and who now have grandchildren, we realize that much time has passed.
Many members of the Agrupación have died; many mothers of the detained have died
with the pain of never knowing what happened [to their children], and some of
the wives of the detained-disappeared died at the early age of 40 or 50. It is
not good for the society, for this country that so many crimes go unpunished because
in this way we are permitting the same thing to occur again in the future. So
I feel that it is our duty to continue working. And so the resolution adopted
by Judge Ronald Bartle in England is very important to us. He ruled that Pinochet
is extraditable and that he can go to Spain and the case of each one of the disappearances
of the relatives of the Family Members of the Detained-Disappeared will be investigated.
What is the agenda of the Agrupación now? The Agrupación has
to struggle until there is complete truth and justice in Chile. We want to establish
a House of Memory for the future generations so that they know what happened in
our country—a center of documentation, a place where students can come and we
can exhibit videos, slides, photographs. Because none of what happened is written
in the history books of our country. We should leave memories so that they will
not be forgotten. The worst that could happen to us is forgetting. 
At the site of the ‘Tower,’ a memorial plaque reads, ‘the place of torture and
extermination.’ Photo by Allison Ney.
Since the detention
of Pinochet in London you have become the international spokesperson for those
who want to see him face justice. Is it true that you’ve been threatened again?
Yes. There were always death threats during the dictatorship—more than once
I was threatened with death, together with other members of the Agrupación. Despite
all of our petitions for [police] protection, we never saw any. But now in the
transition [when we’re threatened] we receive protection, a fact which has produced
very complicated feelings for me because I cannot believe that in a transition
to democracy I have to go everywhere with a carabinero [a member of Chile’s national
police force] who accompanies me. At times it’s funny, because before the carabineros
detained us and did not walk guarding us. [Recently] they sent me a letter
[that said they would kill me], then they turned the telephone in my house and
on and off every 10 minutes. Here at the Agrupación we have new security procedures
in place. So the detention of Pinochet has provoked a strong reaction
from the right, but does it seem that Chile has changed much? For us
[Pinochet’s] arrest marked a historic milestone and the greatest achievement of
our struggle because we feel that all of the Chilean people have contributed to
what the lawyers in Spain accomplished for us. Although Pinochet will return one
day, the simple fact of having him under arrest for more than a year in London
will be an enormous advance because it serves not only us as Chileans but for
all of humanity. It will be an example for the other dictators of Latin America
that are accustomed to traveling to Europe without anyone holding them to account.
Arresting
the Generals And after the arrest of Pinochet, justice here in
Chile changed a little. There are generals who are under arrest, and so are the
former directors of the Central Nacional de Informaciones [which replaced the
DINA] and the chief of the Dirección Nacional de Intelligencia del Ejercito [the
Army Intelligence Service under the junta] who have been forced to submit to the
legal process. The Armed Forces must assume institutional responsibility for their
acts and not continue to justify the crimes. At the same time, [they must] stop
exerting improper pressure on the government—Chile, as a government, asked that
Pinochet be freed for humanitarian reasons when they could no longer claim sovereignty
nor territoriality as they had claimed initially when they were not directly defending
Pinochet himself. For us it is sorrowful and shameful, that while the world condemns
him, the Chilean government defends him. We want him to go to Spain—it is our
wish—and in that way we will have advanced. Have you received support
from the people? The reaction of the people has been very different from
when we began. When we began in the street we were very alone. Today we see that
the people identify with us, salute us, support us and demonstrate in one way
or another their bond with us. They say to us, “We are with you,” and this is
very important for us because we have achieved a change in consciousness without
ever having had access to significant resources. Television had always been inaccessible
for us before Pinochet’s arrest. When they arrested him, the foreign press came
here to interview us and then our national television saw that they had an obligation
to interview us also. The people began to know us, and when we organized a march,
thousands came out into the street. So when they say that Chile has forgotten,
it is not true. WRL’s Disarmament Coordinator, Chris Ney, has visited
Chile three times and relishes any opportunity to drink Chilean wine, eat empanadas
and listen to the music of Victor Jara. |