Chilean Protests for Dummies:
Part One of a Two-Part Series
Listen, I’m not calling any of you dummies. In fact, if you’re here, you’re likely pretty informed citizens. But there are a lot of conflicts going on across the globe and they’re not all covered extensively — or accurately — by the traditional media. I happen to have some working knowledge of Chile and how its political and social history has led to this moment in time, so consider this a brief (though long enough to be split into two parts) overview of what’s happening there.
I wish someone would do the same for me with a Hong Kong Protests for Dummies or Situation in Ecuador for Dummies. But first, Chile . . .
Wait, remind me which one Chile is again…
A nation of 18 million people, Chile hugs the west coast of South America, stretching from its northern deserts near Peru, through the lush mountainous region of Patagonia, to the southernmost tip of Tierra del Fuego, the world’s launch pad for Antarctica. The country is widely seen as having one of the most prosperous economies and most stable democracies in Latin America.
Of course, that distinction bears the smudge of the 17-year long dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet who ruled the country through repression and fear following the CIA-backed military coup of September 11, 1973. More on Pinochet and his legacy later.
So, what is happening in Chile?
Massive anti-government protests have swept the nation, from the capital of Santiago to nearly every city, town, and village. They’ve been going steady since mid-October and, while they’ve slowed in frequency and intensity, they show few signs of stopping.
How — or why — did they start?
The easy answer is that protests broke out following a proposed hike in the rush hour metro fare. University, high school, and even middle school students were the first to react, jumping turnstiles in the subway stations and leading an “evasion” of the new fare, which represented a 30-peso or 3.5-cent increase per ride, leading to the Spanish word evadé or evasion being used as shorthand for the uprising.
The more complicated — and truer — answer is that the 3.5-cent increase was untenable to the majority of the population because Chile, despite its high overall GDP, has the third worst income inequality on earth. Wealth and power are concentrated in the hands of very few, with only eleven billionaires in the nation of almost 19 million. Widespread poverty, inequality, a corrupt and ineffective network of social services, and an inability to truly participate in their country’s democracy are the actual causes of the anger and frustration that finally boiled over.
When a government official suggested that subway riders simply get up a little earlier to avoid the rush hour fare hike, people heard, “Let them eat cake.”
How did this all come to be?
The popular refrain “It’s not 30 pesos; it’s 30 years” points the finger of blame at General Augusto Pinochet’s 17-year long military dictatorship. Of course, Chile had widespread poverty and inequality before Pinochet came to power, but Socialist President Salvador Allende, who was elected in 1970, was trying to alleviate that through both successful and unsuccessful policies when his government was ousted from power and he lost his life.
While official numbers are hard to agree on, Pinochet’s regime killed or disappeared over 3,000 political opponents, detained and/or tortured 40,000, and exiled anywhere from 400,000 to 2 million of its own citizens. More relevant to the discussion at hand is that Pinochet relied on the neo-liberal, free market economic philosophy of American economist Milton Friedman, establishing policies in the 1980s that would exacerbate existing inequality, directly leading to today’s unrest. The so-called “Chilean miracle” led to vast and fast economic growth for the already-wealthy and the corporations, including those owned by foreign entities, while leaving out millions of regular citizens.
Those citizens are out in the streets today.
What do the protestors want?
The initial metro fare hike was reversed within weeks of the first protest, but the loosely organized movement has other demands, including improved public education, reducing or eliminating college debt, access to quality health care, a halt to the rising costs and collusion among utility providers, livable wages, a complete overhaul of the pension system, and a rewrite of the nation’s constitution which dates back to the Pinochet years.
Changing the pension system has been a rallying cry for many, as the mostly 20 to 40-year old protestors claim they’re out on the streets for their parents and grandparents. This is a dramatic shift from so many other global protests where people are motivated to fight for their future children and grandchildren.
Quality of life for the elderly in Chile is dismal, with an average monthly pension only of $295 for women and $495 for men. This is less than the national minimum salary and considerably less than they were promised by the government during their working years. Meanwhile, the privatized pension system is making billions off the backs of working Chileans. According to 28-year old protester Josefina Cardenas, “Old people prefer suicide” to the current system. “They cannot live with dignity.”
The health care system is similarly dysfunctional, with only the wealthy having access to high quality care while poor Chileans often die before ever receiving treatment for their curable illnesses due to excessive wait times and a shortage of care providers.
What is the government doing about all this?
Billionaire right-wing President Sebastián Piñera appeared to have been caught off guard by the depth of anger that has welled against his government. Days before the protests began, he described Chile as “an oasis within the chaos of Latin America.”
His initial response to the protests — to declare a state of emergency and send the military into the streets to restore order — backfired. People were openly resentful and suspicious of his aggressive tactics and sensitive to the shadow of Pinochet’s early days, especially when Santiago and eight other cities were placed under curfew. On October 21, he declared in a television address, “We are at war against a powerful enemy … relentless … which doesn’t respect anyone or anything and which is ready to use violence and crime to no limit.”
Most protesters on the ground found this ludicrous considering they had little more than rocks, signs, and their voices while facing literal tanks in the street. Of course, as in all protest movements, there were people taking advantage of the chaos, looting stores and leaving a path of destruction through the city. More on that in Part Two. Also, more on what happens when the protesters come face-to-face with the military and the national police, the carabineros.
Piñera has made some concessions, including forcing the resignation of eight ministers in his cabinet and, most importantly, agreeing to hold a national vote in April 2020 to determine if the country should rewrite its Pinochet-era constitution and, if so, who should be charged with that responsibility. More on that in Part Two.
Who are the protesters?
Everyone and no one, it seems. The movement was started by students, some as young as middle school, but people of all ages and backgrounds have since joined in. The most consistent protesters and certainly those on the front lines have been young, between the ages of 16 and 40. As 68-year old Rancagua resident Pedro Quintana said, “It’s their turn now. We’ve paid our dues.” He is referring, of course, to the heavy price paid by opponents of the military regime who lost their freedom, their homeland, or their lives during the Pinochet years.
Support for and participation in the current uprising has spread in a way that the student-led protests of 2006 and 2011 did not. “¡Chile despertó!” (“Chile woke up!”) is emblazoned on signs and graffiti across Santiago. People who’ve kept their heads down and moved from their first to their second to their third daily job, never convinced that they had the power to effect change, are now engaged in creating that very change.
Thousands of disparate groups have come together, including trade unions (long banned in Chile), social groups, students, peasants, workers, intellectuals, and immigrants. But there has yet to be a clear leader, which makes organizing — and especially negotiating with the government — difficult. Ricardo Morales, 68, described going to a Santiago demonstration in November that had no stage, no speakers, no sound system. “No one was in charge!”
But, in some ways, that may be the point. Instead of placing power in the hands of the few, these protests have spread that power around, to everyone and anyone who steps up to take it. That is the very definition of changing a system from its roots. People have been gathering on street corners and in parks for spontaneous town hall meetings called cabildos. They are discussing big issues, proposing solutions, planning events, and building trust.
These might just be the leaders needed to see this thing through.
Until next time . . .
Okay, that’s it for Part One. Part Two will go into greater detail about the role of women and the indigenous Mapuche in the protests, lay out the options for the April plebiscite (and answer the question of whether a plebsicite can actually change a nation — spoiler alert, it has), dig deeper into the abuse protesters are suffering at the hands of security forces, and look at what this all means to the rest of the region and the world.
