"I remember seeing the tanks patrolling the city. At every corner you would see tanks with armed soldiers," says Oscar Cardenas, a Chilean filmmaker who was living in central Santiago during the military coup, and grew up during the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, which lasted 17 years until the country's return to democracy in 1990.
Nathalie Molina Altamirano, who arrived with her family in Australia in 1978, escaping the military government's relentless human rights abuses, also remembers the violence.
She says it's challenging to convey her lived experience to her own children who only know the joys of life in Australia.
"They can't imagine seeing the police with machine guns or tanks deployed the street. For them, it's like a movie."
And for many Chileans born after the end of the Pinochet regime, even those scenes felt distant.
But in October 2019, after decades of perceived peace and prosperity, the images of heavily armed security forces using armoured vehicles to neutralise protests returned to Santiago.
This time, it was to offset massive nationwide demonstrations known as the 'social explosion', to demand the transformation of a country that still seems unable to reconcile, let alone agree, on the course to achieve the wellbeing of its people, almost half a century after the 1973 coup d'état.
Old disagreements are seemingly being revived again in new acts of violence, bleeding a country which, in the 1990s and the first decade of this century, appeared to embody the model of South American progress, but now is once again debating its own destiny in the midst of a new crisis.
Miriam Villalobos junto a su padre. Source: Miriam Villalobos
Childhood memories of Chile in conflict
"We left Chile with my mother, four sisters, and crossed all the way north to Peru. There, we met up with my father and waited for some country to accept us as migrants," Miriam Villalobos recalls.
Miriam belongs to a group of families who fled the country right after the military coup, fearful of suffering the violence that the regime used against its opponents. Her story of exile began at the age of 11.
Miriam says they were fortunate that Australia soon accepted their request for political asylum shortly after they left.
The Chilean-Australian teacher told SBS Spanish that from the moment she received an interview request from us, she has begun to relive buried memories and feelings from the past, as part of a family living in exile. This has made her appreciate even more the great sacrifice that her parents made to their daughters a better future.
The total number of those who perished at the hands of Chilean state agents has not yet been fully established. Still, various national and international commissions and human rights organisations estimate that 3,226 people died in Chile during the military regime, between 1973 and 1990.
These include 1,102 “disappeared detainees” – victims whose bodies weren’t found.
An estimated 31,686 people suffered directly from political violence, of which 28,459 were tortured because of their ideology or their role in resisting the military government.
"When I arrived in Australia, I was four and a half years old. It was 1978," Nathalie Molina Altamirano recalls.
Her childhood memories of Chile are few and far between and are mixed with the stories told by her relatives. While she believes that her parents did not suffer direct violence from the military regime, some of her close relatives did suffer persecution and torture. She says it forced them to flee the country.
"Some suffered directly from the coup. My uncle was tortured in Chile because of his political beliefs. They had to uproot and move to Ireland, and then France."
The three years of former President Salvador Allende's government (1970-1973) were considered years of hope for many Chileans, especially the most dispossessed
They felt reforms like nationalisation of some enterprises and the deepening of the agrarian reform to the detriment of powerful landowners, symbolised the beginning of a path to social justice, more equitable redistribution of wealth and empowerment of the people who had hitherto been afflicted by poverty.
On the other hand, for Allende's detractors, his time in government represented a stagnation of the country's economy, high inflation and socialist policies that were harmful and brought Chile closer to the Soviet Union in the midst of the Cold War. These were reasons enough for them to support a military coup that had tragic consequences for most Chileans, including Allende who died on the day of the coup d'état against him.
Augusto Pinochet y la junta militar 1973 Source: AP
As a journalist who also shares the experience of growing up in Chile during the dictatorship, I believe the generations of Chilean children born in those turbulent times indeed perceived what was happening in the country as nuanced. The situation was internalised and mediated by our innocence.
And although we may not have fully understood what was happening during those years, the deep wound that was opened in the country due to violence and political hatred has remained seared in the fabric of our lives.
"We had a lot of fear and uncertainty as children," says Miriam Villalobos.
In order to protect their four daughters, Miriam's parents constantly struggled to hide their emotions, in the midst of the unstable situation they were living in during their first years of exile.
"We had anxieties that perhaps only now, as an adult woman, I can translate and identify," Miriam continues, acknowledging that this exercise of introspection has not been easy.
Coming to terms with painful memories does not allow for shortcuts.
In Chile, many children were directly and indirectly victimised by the regime. The children of disappeared detainees, for example, to this day cannot go to a grave to mourn their parents, nor can they sit in front of a tombstone to perhaps rejoice in reliving the happy moments lived with them before the tragedy struck.
Oscar Cardenas says that as a child, he grew up thinking that the only possible government for a country was a dictatorship since there was no talk of democracy in schools. Adults publicly avoided talking about ideas that could identify them as political dissidents, because of the dire consequences that could bring. But as years went by, it became increasingly clear to him that the country was living through unprecedented upheaval.
Oscar remembers a childhood ridden with what he recognises now as anomalies. His primary school headmaster was an army general, not a teacher - something that would be inconceivable in most countries.
"You grow up with the idea that this is the norm, but at the same time, at home, I was told there was another type of normal. So there was this contradiction."
For her part, Nathalie Molina Altamirano, says that she began to gain a better understanding of what was happening in Chile as a teenager.
"An understanding of social justice, the deaths, the torture, the disappearances. I began to understand more at the age of twelve," she says.
For Miriam Villalobos, it was somewhat different. Although she too began to understand what was happening in Chile between the ages of eleven and twelve, exile made her awareness more experiential.
"During the time we were in Lima, Peru, we were protected under a United Nations plan, and all the people there shared exactly our same experience. It was like an education campaign for the children," she explains.
Chileans who fled the country took refuge in countries as diverse as Mexico, Sweden, France, Italy and Australia, among others. Exile groups showed the children images and documentaries of what was happening in Chile to create awareness.
Nathalie Molina Altamirano junto a sus tres hijos. Source: N. Molina Altamirano
In Australia, Chilean refugees banded together in the late 70s and early 80s for mutual support, in a country that seemed totally alien to what they had previously known.
Upon her arrival in Australia, Miriam's family immediately joined a solidarity committee that sought to restore democracy in Chile.
As he entered adolescence, Oscar Cardenas also gradually began to realise that, like many others, his own family had also suffered the violence of the military regime. Although he says, he quickly learned that talking about these issues was never to be done in public.
Oscar still remembers the advice of his elders on the importance of silence and trust, to shield oneself against the brutal reprisals against anyone perceived to pose a threat to the military regime.
"The dramatic cases of people who had disappeared after being arrested and tortured began to reappear. People in my family had gone through the same thing. One could see that it was a subject that could not be talked about, only inside our houses," he remembers.
Destination Australia
For Miriam and Nathalie's parents, arriving in Australia meant regaining a sense of security and harmony that they had been longing for, above all, for the wellbeing of their children.
Democracy, ample choices of opportunities in a prosperous country, coupled with the absence of social conflict and its associated violence, convinced them that they could be happy in Australia.
"I have no memory of having lived through difficult situations [in Australia] where I felt there was no empathy," Miriam explains, as she empathises, she proudly feels both Chilean and Australian after 46 years living here.
Nathalie, on the other hand, struggled a little more to integrate entirely with the Australian culture, despite first arriving when she was four years old.
It was only when Natalie resettled in Australia a second time as a teenager after a family trip to Chile that she felt she belonged.
The trials of adolescence, a life of uprooting and growing up between two diverse cultures, forced her to struggle to find her identity, something that makes her feel happy and proud today.
"It took me many years to feel truly Australian. Now I feel Australian, and I am very proud to be in this country. I thank my parents and Australia for the opportunities they have given us," Nathalie says with conviction.
Just like Miriam, despite the geographical and cultural distance, and the years living in Australia, she also says she feels a deep affection and belonging to Chile, feelings that both of them have passed on to their children as well.
Conveying a history of conflict and tragedy
Oscar's, Nathalie's and Miriam's children have all grown up in Australia. Both as parents and migrant children, they all agree that an important part of their education includes explaining, from their point of view, what happened in Chile during the time of the dictatorship, while also elucidating what the country is going through now in this new turbulent chapter of its history.
"[My children] felt the urge to ask what my childhood had been like. And they found it unimaginable to have to leave a country as a child," Miriam says.
"I always explained to them everything that happened in Chile — the social changes that marked our history, so they have a fairly clear concept, at least from their parents' point of view, of course."
Miriam, who is a teacher in Victoria, says her daughters have already had the opportunity to visit Chile, and have realised that some societies have fewer privileges than others.
Oscar says he has gradually been telling his pre-teen children what happened in Chile. Although he acknowledges that it is not an easy subject for him to broach, he always tries to emphasise the importance of human rights, regardless of ideology.
"I can now explain more complex things to them, like that the government engaged in torture, repeatedly violated our human rights, or tell about the disappearances, and how they silenced opposition."
Nathalie says she talks a lot to her children about the past, and what is happening today in Chile. Even though they haven't been there, she is surprised her children feel affected by what she tells them, even though she believes it is difficult for them to assimilate because the scenarios are so different to life in Australia.
It's not easy to portray the experience of living under a military siege following a coup d'état, constantly under curfew, growing up under the grip of a military dictatorship or in exile.
For those who have not lived through these extreme experiences, it's easy to take democratic liberties for granted, and near impossible to fully understand what these events mean for the people who grew up marked by them.
Oscar, Miriam and Nathalie all agree on the difficulty of adequately relaying these experiences to those Australians who have not had to confront them directly.
"There are experiences that cannot be translated into words; it goes beyond what a story or words can say. I have tried to translate my experience, and sometimes I think it is almost impossible to do so, regardless of the level of empathy people may show," Miriam explains.
She believes there are communication gaps between people like her, who have lived through diverse experiences in a different culture, and other Australians or expats.
Thousands of demonstrator protest in the center of the coastal city of Viña del Mar, Chile, 23 February 2020. AEfe Source: AAP
"If they haven't been through something like that in their home countries, I don't think they can understand it, how it really affects people, not one hundred per cent at least," Nathalie says.
While Natalie respects many feel constrained by the current lockdowns in Melbourne, and the restrictions in place in Australia to prevent the spread of COVID-19, she believes this reflects the lack of understanding by people from industrialised countries of the harsh conditions experienced by others in less fortunate countries.
"When I hear politicians saying we are living in a 'health dictatorship', using those words, I think, 'they don't know what a dictator is!'
"They throw those words around to scare people, but that's not what it really means," Nathalie emphasises, while trying to understand and respect those who think differently and can only analyse the world from their own limited point of view.
However, Nathalie cannot help but feel angry at what she considers to be a manipulative political message stemmed in ignorance.
She also warns it's important for Australian politicians to be more careful in their use of language as it's hurtful to those who have really suffered the strong grip of real a military regime.
A new country or the same Chile marked by its past?
Forty-seven years since the military coup in Chile, and 30 years after the end of the dictatorship, the massive social protests that rocked Chile in October 2019 show that the country still seems to be struggling to find harmony.
Today's protesters are demanding a fairer distribution of wealth, an end to privileges for the economic and political elite, justice for victims of crimes against humanity and recognition for those who have always been neglected.
Those who oppose these demands, however, are calling for order, security and the continuation of an economic and political system, which they believe has brought Chile to the threshold of industrial development, when compared to its less powerful neighbours.
Chile is currently governed by President Sebastian Piñera, a right-wing millionaire who belongs to the generation that defends the neo-liberal economic policies subscribed to by the Pinochet government, particularly in the 1980s.
However, the discontent of hundreds of thousands of Chileans that took to the streets does not appear to be only against one specific political party but extends to the whole prevailing political and economic system, which is why this crisis has taken such a deep root in the country.
Considering the circumstances and the time that has elapsed between one event and another, today's grievances and conflicts do not appear to differ significantly from those of the time when Pinochet removed Salvador Allende as president.
Has Chile succeeded in healing its past wounds, or is this new social uprising a repercussion of our unresolved past struggles?
For Miriam, "deep wounds eventually heal, but the scars remain". The Chilean teacher says she has "very much healed", and considers the current social upheaval linked to the military coup of 1973 and the 1983 protests against the dictatorship and the deep inequalities that still remain.
"What is happening now is a logical consequence of a system that has not changed. That is why the 'social explosion' occurred, a certain percentage of people have said, 'no more'."
Oscar believes "Chile has an open wound" due to a lack of justice and decades of impunity. Pinochet, despite being "the head of a bloodthirsty government" did not spend a single day in prison, Oscar explains.
"The wound is so huge… and the country has not wanted to face it. And that is part of the outburst, although it is not the crux of the outburst, it is a very important element on top of the social demands," he adds.
Nathalie confesses the situation causes her much pain. She thought Chile was better, and that people were more united now. However, when she saw the government's reaction, deploying police and military forces to suppress the protests, she changed her mind.
"It hurts because I thought that we were past it and that Chile was healing its wounds. It was like we went back to how it was before because of the way the military attacked the people who were protesting. [The violence] was quite serious".
The memories and tensions of yesteryear seen to have interwoven with the experiences of today, creating a sense in many Chileans that the lessons of history stubbornly refuse to stay in the memory of the collective, as the many injustices have not yet been resolved.
On 25 October, Chile will go to the polls for a historic vote on the possibility of reforming its Constitution, which was extensively modified during the government of Augusto Pinochet to serve the ideology and interests of those who governed the country during the dictatorship.
The plebiscite is one of the demands of those who took to the streets and protested from October to March this year urging for change in the country.
For many, the fact that 'Pinochet's Constitution' was never revised after his demise speaks volumes about the unyielding power structures that continue to prevail in Chile today.
It remains to be seen whether this is the first step towards a significant transformation and the beginning of the healing of the wounds of the past or another stage of an ordeal that has already extended for almost half a century.
