They can never sleep in peace

 

By Florence Saintout
 Reconciliation, that call to peace that only brings hell in their mouth, is nothing more than the need of the executioners to put a blanket at night on crime. They have no history. They do not have centuries of struggle to move the dead weight of injustice. If they look back, they only have the crimes they also need to hide because they can not live supporting the idea of ​​evil as their own. I want to believe that they can not sleep at night, because even in the nights come the cold nightmares of the pain caused in torture, in the humiliations, in the force applied to stifle the breath of life. So that's why they talk about reconciliation, because the demons of their humanities do not let them sleep, and they let us live. As General Valle wrote hours before his execution: "Between my luck and yours, I'll take mine. My wife and daughter, through their tears, will see in me an idealist sacrificed for the cause of the people. Your women, even they, will see their souls of assassins through their eyes. And if they smile and kiss them, it will be to disguise the terror they cause them. Even if they live a hundred years their victims will follow them to any corner of the world where they try to hide. "

But they are not only their consciences: they also need to forget to justify with the idea of ​​the demons the repression of the popular will, which will increase if they continue advancing with policies against the common people, of flesh and blood, who want to work, meet , retire, live in freedom. The past time that torments them, and that they will never be able to calm down, is that of the horror caused that they have to justify to justify their crimes now above all.

Who are they asked to reconcile? To hundreds of babies who were robbed in the torture rooms of twenty-year-old mothers who at this time are adults without knowing who they are; with children maybe they do not know who they are; with a shrunken soul of a pain that is denied the truth? The mothers who left no children? To the parents, brothers, grandchildren of those who one day saw how their loved ones had been murdered, bombed in a square and never had justice? Who do we want to reconcile Argentines and Argentines in good faith that for centuries we have been subjected to shootings, persecution, death, looting and pain for booty as despicable as property before life, power before freedom?

Could it be that they think we can reconcile with Etchecolatz, today at home as the great majority of genocides live? On the other hand, we remember the words of Julio López, when he gave testimony in the trials about the torture sessions that Etchecolatz practiced on his own body, demanding that he be called "Señor Comisario". Lopez also told how a girl, Patricia Dell'orto, begged Etchecolatz not to kill her, that she wanted to raise her one-month-old son, and how they shot her in the head.In that same trial, Etchecolatz manipulated in his fingers a small paper that said "Jorge Julio López" in view of the victims, their families and television. Then Julio Lopez disappeared for the second time and continues missing. Last year his lifelong partner died, and his son Ruben, in the midst of pain, had to do special procedures for cremation because the closest relative does not have a death certificate.

What do they ask? That we reconcile with the executioners? In whose name do they ask? Of those who inaugurated the crime in Argentina? They ask for those who carry their names and claim the murderous power. (Or sometimes they claim it, because it is always good to remember that in adverse moments they are able to deny even the mother, or to blame them, as did Vicente Massot, uncle of Nicolás Massot, when he declared as the first journalist charged with crimes of He was accused of three things: a) of having concealed thirty-five crimes committed during the dictatorship and presented in what was the diary of the family as "clashes" between the military and armed organizations; b) to be co-author for the distribution of roles in the homicide of graphic workers Enrique Heinrich and Miguel Angel Loyola, trade union leaders of the New Province; c) to integrate a machinery of psychological action that had as its objective to defend State terrorism. Vicente Massot declared: "it was not me, it was my mother", that he had died towards very little. He said in his statement before federal justice when he said that his mother and brother "handled everything." He said it again in two newspaper interviews: that he had not been, that he had been his mother).

The facts show that reconciliation is not possible in terms of hatred. Oblivion is not possible. Although a thousand years pass, infinite years, what happened is a living animal that breathes and continues to happen. Let's think about this: the ancestors of those who govern us more than a hundred years ago undertook one of the most opprobrious killings in the history of humanity, was the so-called Desert Campaign. Infernal way towards the other, naming it desert. More than fourteen thousand murdered; equal number of prisoners; children stolen from their families, handed over as servants and slaves even after slavery was abolished in these lands. I'm from La Plata, so I know the history of Inacayal well, persecuted, "invited" in his defeat to take care of the remains of his ancestors taken as prisoners of science in a museum named after Perito Moreno and who exhibited the bodies of those who were supposed to have neither people nor history nor names (like that of that Ache girl, whom they named as the saint of the day they murdered their parents, San Damiano, and who exhibited naked in the eyes of a white anthropologist; the one of Margarita Foyel, who died in the basement of the museum and was returned only in 2014 to his land where on January 17 they set fire to the house of Adelina Valle, of the community, Mapuche). Inacayal, dead of sadness and horror.They stole their lands, which belonged to no one and belonged to everyone. After the genocide, millions of hectares were left in a few families, one of them was the first president of the rural society, Martínez de Hoz. You have to be part of humanity's trash can to kill by land.

And even so, since they possess the most sophisticated and powerful construction machines of the Tale of the Dominator to hide the ignominy, the names of Santiago, like Nahuel Rafael, young people assassinated by the current government, speak of the permanence of these ancestral struggles by Justice. Symptomatically: young people, in the south of the south, committing their lives in the lives of others; fighting for causes that they wanted for centuries to leave in oblivion and that they can not cover.

Perhaps it is time for us to be more forceful: conciliare in Latin means to agree, arrange, adapt opposing beliefs, harmonize spirits. That meaning has remained, so when they ask us to reconcile, they ask us for something that never happened in our Argentine and Latin American history. Simply because we were never reconciled: there was never a conciliation between the Cortez, the Pizarros and our native peoples. The shooters of the Tragic Patagonia were never reconciled with the revolutionary workers. There was no reconciliation between Evita and those who wished her cancer; nor between the Rojas and Aramburu shooters with the followers of Valle; nor among the workers and students of the Cordobazo and its dictatorial repressors. So from the bottom of our history. Therefore, when they ask us for reconciliation they ask us to return to a nonexistent situation. It is not possible to reconcile the ideas and actions of centuries of our peoples that seek well-being for all with the ideas and practices of genociders, torturers, book burners, destroyers of the beautiful and the free that life has. To reconcile we should deny history and ethically equate gross criminals and murderers.