198 Sundays: Mothers Of The Plaza De Mayo

I decided to take a slightly different tack with today's post.  Instead of choosing a method to cover and then giving examples, I thought I'd start with a real world case and then reverse engineer it to figure out what methods it entails.

For me one of the most compelling stories of action by ordinary people is that of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina.  From Sharp's Waging Nonviolent Struggle:

Between 1976 and 1983, tens of thousands of people "disappeared" in Argentina.  After the military conducted a coup d'etat in 1976, it implemented a "Process of National Reorganization" with the goal of eradicating all sectors of possible "subversion" from Argentine society.

The strategy was perhaps best defined by General Videla, the coup leader and president of the first military junta: "In order to guarantee the security of the state, all necessary people will die."  He went on to define a "subversive" as "anyone who opposes the Argentine way of life."  Rather than simply detaining left-wing activists or publicly assassinating them (thus turning them into martyrs), the plan was to kidnap, torture, and then execute them extra-officially, all the while disavowing knowledge of their whereabouts.  The victims would simply "disappear."

At the beginning, resistance to military rule was almost non-existent.  Indeed, many sectors of the population had actively campaigned for a military takeover due to the corruption and apparent stagnation of the civilian government.

In 1977, after thousands had already disappeared and the so-called dirty war against left-wing activities was at its height, a small group of women grew desperate.  Their children were missing, and there was strong evidence to suggest that they had been kidnapped by military or paramilitary death squads.  The women had spent months inquiring at government offices, military headquarters, and police stations.  They were always told that no one knew anything about the fate of their children.  A few of the mothers then decided to take their campaign to the prominent Plaza de Mayo, outside the presidential palace in the center of Buenos Aires.

Their first "meeting" was held at the plaza on April 30, 1977.  It was attended by 14 women whose sons or daughters had "disappeared."  The mothers could not simply stand together, as this would have been tantamount to holding an illegal demonstration.  So they began to walk slowly in a counterclockwise circle around the center of the square.  They attracted little attention at first, as there were few people around to observe the protest.  Nevertheless, they were emboldened by their action.  They decided to speak with other mothers and then plan a weekly walk around the plaza each Thursday afternoon, when the plaza was typically more crowded.

They usually did not carry signs or placards, but rather wore the names of their missing children embroidered on white head scarves.  The head scarves would soon become the mothers' most visible symbol and trademark.

The military was caught off-guard by this most unlikely sector of the opposition.  The junta's moral authority was based on an avowed defense of the Argentine family and Christian values.  Now, after having physically eliminated political opposition groups and thousands of potential "subversives," the military regime was being publicly challenged by a small but growing group of Argentine housewives and mothers.

The mothers themselves came from diverse religious and political backgrounds, and many had nothing in common other than the fact that their children had been kidnapped and probably murdered by the military regime.  Most had no previous political involvement, yet they were determined not to let the government take their children with impunity.

At the end of 1977, the military finally cracked down.  Following a meeting of mothers and supporters, nine women were detained by a paramilitary squad.  Three more were taken two days later, and none was ever heard from again.  Nevertheless, the protests continued, although in smaller numbers...

By the end of 1978, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, as they were then known, faced their most difficult period.  The plaza was completely sealed off by metal barriers and squadrons of military police.  No longer able to march in the plaze, they resorted to "ligtning actions," gathering on one side of the square and running across to the other side before being caught by police.  Such actions continued throughout most of 1979, although the number of participants dwindled due to constant repression.

At the end of 1979, the Mothers agreed that they needed to go on the offensive again.  They decided they would return to the Plaza de Mayo on the first Thursday of 1980, then return every Thursday thereafter until they were either killed or the truth about all the "disappeared" was revealed and those who had tortured and killed them had been punished.
...
By this time, the regime itself was showing signs of decay.  Throughout the most severe years of the dictatorship, the Mothers were the only open, public sign of resistance to the military regime.  Now, however...workers and the middle class took to the streets as well.  On December 10, 1982, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo held a 24-hour "March of Resistance" on the avenue leading off the plaza.  For the first time, thousands joined the Mothers, emboldened by their example and the persistent weakening of the regime.
...
Although such relatively small actions of a small group of mothers did not directly bring an end to the dictatorship, "it was the willingness of the Mothers to take action that kept the flame of opposition burning in the public view during the worst years...They successfully countered the military's calculation that if the terror was absolute enough, no one would dare to complain."

In a sense the Mothers were picking up where the Rosenstrasse wives left off, and until recently Cindy Sheehan had followed in their footsteps.  Mothers and wives are very powerful in such actions because it appears most regimes base their legitimacy in part on the notion that they're protecting their people's families and guaranteeing a future for their children.  When they attack that very justification by arresting, torturing and/or killing those children, all it takes is a few women to upset the whole foundation in a way that perhaps fathers and husbands can't quite do.  Womanhood seems to have a unique power in that regard.

That's partly why I think Cindy Sheehan attracted so much attention.  Not because she wanted to consciously become a symbol or spokesperson for the anti-war "movement" (such as it is), but because her loss, her son whom she carried for 9 months and gave birth to and instilled with her values, is so profoundly resonant in an intrinsic way.  Of course, this is precisely why she needed to be attacked and denigrated by Bush apologists, lest her message reach too many people who would then realize how wrong (this) war is.

Notice what happened with the Mothers and with Cindy Sheehan: they were flying pretty much solo for a while, were slowly joined by others who were similarly grieving, and then other people who didn't have their credentials of loss got involved.  But all those involved were essentially regular folk, not saints or superheroes.  Just ordinary people in extraordinary times who took an extra step or two to restore sanity to their political environment.

I'd like to think that Cindy Sheehan, even though she's bowed out after a few years of sacrifice and hard work, has blazed a trail the rest of us can now follow.  Her vigil and other efforts probably required that Gold Star to first gain attention, and now that we and the media have started paying attention to her message we can more easily follow up on it.

Persistence is the key.  The Mothers protested every Thursday.  Cindy was out there in Crawford everyday it seems forever.  Yet when you look at how we've protested this war overall it only amounts to a few marches here and there, then back to our daily lives.  Demonstrations aren't the only type of action necessary, but they can be an important component to a comprehensive strategy to put pressure on our government (local, state and national) so long as they aren't isolated events.

So back to the Mothers.  I guess three methods they used were:

19. Wearing of symbols
38. Marches
137. Refusal of an assemblage or meeting to disperse

Perhaps there are others arguably involved, but these are the most clear in my mind.  The first two are methods of nonviolent protest and persuasion, and the last falls under the heading of political noncooperation.  Even under the most dire repression, regular people engaged in action that helped return Argentina to civilian rule and held tyrants accountable in the end.  Could we not do the same every Thursday in America?

ntodd

Comments

[Mr.Murder]

Symbols are indeed the most powerful items we can use.

Their use in disobedience as ammunition to win hearts and minds is what makes it most effective.

What did the effect of such purges result?

Most likely it insulates the leaders from effective command in policy formulation.

Yes men become the standard, mistakes capitulate and mount, implosion is the final ending.

All the result of ruling from a polemic standard, and its effect in charging the sphere of policy and the body politic.

[Echidne]

There is a candlelight march here every week against the war. It's not in the right place. It should be in front of the White House or at least in front of the State House.

I'm sure the place to choose is one of the methods you have discussed. I will now read more.

[Piera]

Well said.