💾 Archived View for library.inu.red › file › crimethinc-the-student-movement-in-chile.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 08:51:41. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
➡️ Next capture (2024-06-20)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Title: The Student Movement in Chile Author: CrimethInc. Date: September 11, 2017 Language: en Topics: student movement, Chile, history, interview Source: Retrieved on 23rd April 2021 from https://crimethinc.com/2017/09/11/the-student-movement-in-chile-from-dictatorship-to-democracy-the-flame-of-revolt Notes: Answers courtesy of Samuel Cactus.
Forty-four years ago today, on September 11, 1973, a military
dictatorship seized power in Chile via a CIA-sponsored coup. They
murdered thousands of people without trial, tortured tens of thousands,
and forced hundreds of thousands into exile in a series of atrocities
that some Trump supporters openly fantasize about carrying out in the
US. Today, the legacy of the dictatorship persists in the laws it passed
and the cutthroat neoliberal policies it introduced, but also in the
repressive policing apparatus that serves democracy the same way it
served a dictator. And something else persists: a powerful resistance
movement. In the latest installment of our series on student organizing,
we interviewed an anarchist participant in the Chilean student movement,
in hopes of offering a little perspective on what student struggles look
like outside the US.
Please trace the origins of anarchist participation in the contemporary
student movement in Chile.
Anarchism boomed in Chile during the first two decades of the 20^(th)
century. In large part, the workers’ movement spread this ideological
current through strikes such as the longshoremen’s strike in 1903, the
meatpackers’ strike in 1905, and the famous miners’ strike of 1907 in
Iquique. Anarchism began to decline during the 1930s due to the rise of
Marxism on one hand and the rise of fascism on the other, while parts of
the Left became more and more institutionalized and integrated into the
bourgeois electoral system. Over the following decades, anarchism
diminished in the workers’ movement until, by the time of the
dictatorship (1973–1990), it had become a minority position, more
readily found in small circles of intellectuals.
In the 1990s, anarchism began its rebirth in Chile alongside the
emerging punk scene and the participation of encapuchados (masked ones)
in university protests and street demonstrations. By this time,
anarchism was no longer anchored to the workers’ movement; it was being
reborn as a part of the counterculture in the streets, squats, high
schools, universities, and other informal spaces, among the generations
that came of age during the dictatorship while listening to bands like
La Polla Records, Los Miserables, Fiskales Ad-Hok, Ska-P, and the like.
There was also the influence of the latter generations of combatant
youth during the 1980s. By that time, young people had learned a lot
about street combat in the course of resisting the dictatorship,
although ideologically this often did not extend beyond opposition to
the police. The influence of the heterodox Marxist guerrilla
organization MAPU-Lautaro, for example, and the decline of more
traditional armed Marxist groups like the FPMR (Manuel Rodriguez
Patriotic Front, the guerrilla wing of the Communist Party) and the MIR
(the Revolutionary Left Movement) created a situation in which armed
struggle was no longer centralized in the hands of groups that aspired
to seize state power. As centralized groups declined, minoritarian
groups and positions appeared that organized horizontally and practiced
a low level of defensive violence.
This set the stage for the new generation of encapuchados that had been
born in the 1990s to advance a new position and new kinds of action in
the massive explosion of protest in high schools in 2006.
The first protests against university tuition hikes under President
Ricardo Lagos (2000–2006) had begun to pick up steam in 2004. In 2006,
the so-called “Penguin Revolution” broke out. This was the first
awakening of students on a massive scale since the protests that took
place in the 1980s under the dictatorship. This time, it was a
generation that hadn’t lived under the dictatorship, a generation that
grew up under democracy yet realized that the ghost of Pinochet was
still present—that we were living under the normative framework imposed
by Pinochet’s military government and their civil technocrats. We still
are today.
At that time, in 2006, the Organic Constitutional Law on Education
(LOCE) created under the dictatorship was still in place. It secured a
precarious education for the poor and a luxury education for the rich,
creating a brutal class divide that manifested itself in the scores on
university selection exams. At the same time, Santiago was wracked by
generalized discontent generated by the introduction of a new urban bus
system (“transantiago”)—a total disaster that had grave consequences for
those who had to commute through the modern and bourgeois parts of
Santiago.
Throughout the whole process of student rebellion, the question of the
legitimacy of violence as a means of political expression came to the
fore. The different responses to that question capture all the different
positions you could find in this ideologically heterogeneous movement. A
new generation of anarchist and Marxist youth differentiated themselves
in those debates, emerging in the student protests and the traditional
annual demonstrations of May 1 and September 11.
Violence has always been controversial as a method of struggle, but the
contradictions within the current student movement center around this
question. To put this in historical context, we can contrast these
contradictions to the debates of the 1960s, ’70s, and ’80s. In the
1970s, the chief conflict in both the workers’ and students’ movements
was about the dichotomy of reform versus revolution—for example, the MIR
invoking the need for armed struggle versus the democratic reformism of
the Community Party (PC). In 21^(st) century protests in Chile, by
contrast, the groups that utilize violence don’t just confront the
police—they oppose every structure that centralizes political,
religious, economic, or social power. This is why demonstrators
sometimes target banks, pharmacies, governmental buildings, churches,
fast food chains, and the like.
This is the consequence of the transformation from the dictatorship to
the current model of Chilean society. Demonstrators are no longer simply
arguing over whether reform or revolution is the best way to abolish the
dictatorship. The tension between those who utilize violence against
state power and property and those who seek to express themselves
through the established legal channels is much more complicated.
One of the reasons for this is that social protest in Chile in the
21^(st) century is heterogeneous and diverse. Many political tendencies
cannot even agree on what it is they are disagreeing about. You have
reformist sectors like the Communist Party, Revolucion Democratica,
older groups like the MIR, and the whole institutionalized Left involved
in the game of bourgeois electoralism; then there are Trotskyists of all
kinds—Guevarists, old school Marxist-Leninists, neo-Marxists; and
finally, there are all kinds of anarchists, including insurrectionary
anarchists, individualists, anarcho-communists, anarcho-syndicalists,
anarcho-punks, and nihilists. This makes contemporary social protest in
Chile complex. Yet with respect to violence, certain polarities emerge.
In the moments of confrontation, two positions arise concerning these
acts: those who support encapuchado violence against the social order
(be they Marxist, anarchist, or otherwise) and those who react against
it. For the institutional sector of the student movement, for example,
encapuchado violence (what would be referred to as “black bloc” in North
America) is an obstacle because it does not focus on “public opinion”
and erodes confidence in the powers that the reformist groups seek
dialogue with.
In and of itself, the student movement is a social-democratic and
reformist movement that doesn’t seek to abolish the state, social
classes, property, the capitalist mode of production, or patriarchal
domination. Based in bourgeois institutions, it presents violence as
counterproductive because rather than rupture, the student movement as a
whole seeks an accord with power.
On the other hand, anarchists (who make up a large part of the
encapuchados) do not seek a dialogue with power. Anarchists seek direct
confrontation; they aren’t petitioning for free education from the
state. These differences explain why disputes between institutionally
coopted organizations and insurrectionary anarchists often escalate into
physical confrontations.
In 2011, when the demand for “free education” became widespread, protest
marches drew unprecedented numbers. Consequently, encapuchado violence,
police repression, reformist organizing, and all of the tensions between
these phenomena reached a peak, as did the student movement itself. The
result was recurring physical confrontations involving “pacifists,”
reformist students, and militants from institutional left parties over
the question of violence and their different goals and positions.
The events of 2011 were a sort of climax resulting from all the
accumulating lessons people had been learning since the 1990s. The scale
of school occupations and student strikes was something new, but
anarchists were hardly the only ones involved. For the most part, the
occupations and strikes were intended to press for reformist demands,
rather than to take power or as a step towards generalized insurrection.
Anarchists made the most of the situation to propagate our ideas,
address the newly mobilized students, and carry out actions. No doubt,
this was a period of time in which anarchism grew—both in terms of
encapuchado paticipation as well as the number of collectives, squats,
books published, workshops, dinners, discussions, benefit shows,
prisoners, and so on.
Of course, there are plenty of students who are neither Marxist nor
anarchist, who simply adhere to the cause of public, free education yet
nonetheless don the mask in order to confront repression. In 2011, just
as in 2006, the police repression was so intense that reformist students
and students who were not ideologically aligned also confronted the
police—not with the intention of taking the offensive, but rather from
the position of believing in rights, that is to say, reacting against
what they considered to be “illegitimate” violence towards a legal
movement that shouldn’t be repressed because it was democratic.
On the other hand, certain Marxist tendencies like Guevarists,
Leninists, and Trotskyists legitimize encapuchado violence, but only in
the service of their agendas—only in certain contexts, only as long as
it is “approved of by the masses,” only as long as it’s not “individual
action,” only when it is framed within the class struggle. One can
identify many anarchists, even within anarchist organizations, who have
more individualist positions and who believe in war against society in
general (social war), beyond the class struggle. Other anarchists, such
as those aligned with libertarian communism or more collectivist
currents, also understand encapuchado violence as an expression of class
struggle, but without as many conditions as Marxists. They don’t have as
many problems with individual action if it is situated in a context of
collective protest.
The debate around violence has even produced violence between the
student demonstrators. Many times in many marches, in the middle of the
confrontations between encapuchados and the police, anarchists and
encapuchados have had to face legalist, reactionary tendencies trying to
stop them, which almost always ended in phsyical confrontations between
these two kinds of demonstrators.
What are the different anarchist tactics and strategies for
participating in student movements?
Anarchists are involved in the student movement, but without making
demands of the state. They participate with the goals of radicalizing
the student struggle, propagating anti-authoritarian ideas, and joining
in street confrontations. Many anarchists try to politicize their social
surroundings at their high schools and universities, above all the
comrades more identified with Bakuninism and libertarian communism. The
more nihilist, insurrectionary, and individualist tendencies focus more
on participating in street violence in the context of mass marches.
Right now, confrontational tactics are used wholly in the service of
institutional petitioning, to put pressure on the government. They have
no revolutionary goal, because the student movement itself doesn’t have
any revolutionary goals.
Regardless, they were important because within the school occupations
there were relations of solidarity, activities to benefit the strikes,
benefits for prisoners, political forums and discussions, and the like.
Lots of kids whose politics didn’t go beyond “free education” or “an end
to education for profit” became radicalized by taking part in those
activities. Furthermore, although the school occupations and strikes
were directed towards a reformist goal, they were expressions of
rebellion that defied the authorities and exceeded traditional forms of
protest.
This was pretty interesting, especially in 2011. The occupations of
universities and high schools served as spaces for libertarian book
fairs, punk shows, and discussions; for the months that they existed,
they were liberated spaces, where solidarities and horizontal
relationships developed outside the dictates of capitalism and
convenience. There were potlucks, collective mural-painting projects,
books, fanzines, communiqués. There were also instances of resistance
and confrontation when the police finally evicted the occupations.
How does the cost of education affect students in Chile? Does it shape
who can go to school? Does it shape the politics and priorities of
students? Is there anything that anarchist organizing can do about this?
In Chile, education is the driving force that reproduces and perpetuates
class inequality and the domination of one class over the others. Beyond
the economic aspect, there’s also the way that education serves as a
form of domestication—being made to memorize things rather than think
for oneself. There’s more math than anything else, with little time for
history, and the history that they do teach you is a linear history
comprised of events and dates that don’t require any actual thinking or
questioning. All classes are indoctrinated to place blind faith in
capitalism and authority.
What can anarchists do about this? Not much. The truth is that the
demand for free education from the state is an institutional struggle of
reformists, even though some more radicalized sectors take on this
demand because they see it as a preliminary step toward a generalized
struggle against capitalism. However, anarchists focus more on
generating spaces of conflict and radicalization. The objective is
revolt, not reform.
Talk about the cultural element of student resistance.
This can include murals, book and propaganda fairs, literature
distribution (feria), art shows, and workshops. All of this takes place
often, but it reached a high point in 2011. For example, there were
workshops about subjects indirectly connected to the student
movement—such as the laws that endure from Pinochet’s dictatorship, the
logic of market-based education, and the solutions that the movement
proposed, like establishing new educational laws that would eliminate
the privatization of education.
Anarchists hosted workshops that went beyond demanding access to
bourgeois jobs and a more “just” education. They proposed a libertarian
notion of education outside the relations of authority and domination.
The dynamics in these spaces were different than the dynamics inside
squatted social centers, for example. The occupations of universities
and high schools are almost universally anti-capitalist but diverse in
terms of particular ideologies.
Anarchists were always a minority, both in the occupations and in the
streets. Yet the marches were so massive—involving 300,000 people by
August 2011—that although they were a minority, there were still A LOT
of encapuchados. In terms of quantitative damage, they were genuinely a
thorn in the side of the authorities, and the police were often
overwhelmed.
Do you want to close with any stories from student struggles in Chile?
The first mass march of 2011 took place as a protest against
hydroelectric dams in the south, in Patagonia, a project of the
corporation HidroAysen. The government approved the controversial
project; in response, there was an enormous, spontaneously organized
march in front of the presidential palace, La Moneda. It ended in a big
riot.
The pacifist and conciliatory sectors tried in vain to restrain the
encapuchados. They ended up just leaving the march. By about 10 pm,
almost all the reactionaries had left and only insurrectionary people
remained on the streets. Looking down Alameda, the main boulevard
through downtown Santiago, one could see various banks in ruins and hear
the sounds of glass breaking from the storefronts of companies and
institutions. A McDonalds was left in flames. It was beautiful.
The “encapuchado bike rides” (think: “black bloc bike rides”) were also
beautiful. I believe three occurred between 2011 and 2013. They were
promoted through social networks and by word of mouth. The police didn’t
dare try to enter the bloc. The first two of those bike rides drew lots
of people—I would venture a guess at 500 or 600 people in bloc, on
bikes, destroying political and commercial advertisements and
confronting luxury cars. The bloc started at Plaza Italia and, instead
of heading downtown towards the presidential palace like every other
march does, took off the other direction, towards Providencia, the
center of bourgeois high society in Santiago, and finally arrived at the
enormous Costanera Center mall—the tallest skyscraper in Latin America,
a symbol of capitalist wealth. In the first two bike rides, they managed
to enter the mall with their bicycles, chanting “Death to the state!
Viva la anarquĂa!” and writing graffiti on the walls and windows of
luxury stores.
But above all, the days of August 2011 were unforgettable. First, there
was the day of double protests (day and night) on August 4, then the
two-day strike of the CUT (Workers’ United Center of Chile), supported
by the students and by labor unions.
On August 4, it was just students taking action, but with an enormous
attendance. Starting at 7 in the morning, barricades went up in various
parts of Santiago. During the afternoon, people confronted the police
throughout the center of the city. In the end, there was no march—the
government didn’t authorize it. Yet it was a day of massive, generalized
protest, with caseroleos (people banging pots and pans) from their
patios or out of their windows. This was unusual, having the support
from the majority of ordinary citizens. Even hippies who reject violence
were throwing stones at the police in response to the context of
indiscriminate repression and authoritarianism.
The days of August were some of the few protests during that period in
which violence was regarded as a legitimate tactic by wide sectors of
the student movement. On all the street corners downtown, enormous
groups of encapuchados were waiting for police cars to pass in order to
attack them. There were barricades everywhere, and millions of pesos
were lost as a result of the destruction of property. Those were the
most generalized instances of revolt I have seen in my lifetime.