Book review: The Ministry of Special Cases

Nathan Englander, The Ministry of Special Cases (Knopf)

I’m a member of a book-swapping website, so when a book popped up that I’d never heard of and it turned out to be about “Dirty War”-era Argentina, I was intrigued and of course I ordered it right away – although not without a slight feeling of trepidation, because the book was by a non-Argentine, US writer Nathan Englander. Could a foreigner really capture the feeling of the time, I wondered?

The Ministry of Special Cases focuses on a dysfunctional, bleakly comic, urban Jewish family in 1970s Buenos Aires. Kaddish Poznan earns his living desecrating graves by night at the request of their family owners and struggles with his own disreputable inheritance, while his wife Lillian does her boss’s job as well as her own and, of course, the housework. When their son is abducted by the military regime, the couple is drawn into a nightmare of bureaucracy and fear as they struggle to get him back, or indeed hear anything of him at all.

It’s clear from that start – at least for anyone with the most rudimentary knowledge of Argentina – that Pato is going to be disappeared, but Englander prolongs the tension before the ultimate abduction. It’s almost painful to wait for the fateful moment, and truly painful to read on as the Poznans attempt, in their very different styles, to save him. I read with a pit in my stomach as Lillian joins interminable queues and scrapes together money for bribes, as Kaddish seeks to mine his circle of acquaintances for possible sources of news, and as the terrible series of events nearly tears the family apart.

Kafkaesque – too glib? Can we avoid the word? I don’t think we can, as the couple come up against prevarication, untruths and a flurry of meaningless paperwork down every corridor of the “Ministry of Special Cases”. The style is not strictly realistic but the story is grounded in hard research. In Lillian, who refuses to contemplate the idea that her son may be dead, we can see some of the founding ideas of the Mother of the Plaza de Mayo, plus there is a guest appearance by a pilot of the death flights (see Adolfo Scilingo). We might also recall that Jews were disproportionately represented among the disappeared, and that there was an anti-Semitic aspect to their torture. The plot spirals down and down the rabbit hole into the darkness. And yet the Poznans’ unfortunate experiences with plastic surgery add a streak of humour to the book.

My doubts about Englander’s ability to draw us in to a novel about Argentina were misplaced, and I was left comparing his work to that of Carlos Gamerro – both take carefully researched stories about the country’s recent history and add a heavy dose of fantasy, violence and black comedy. This novel can stand up against “The Islands” and give the English-speaking reader a great deal to chew on.

Argentina: The ESMA then and now

I enjoy looking at those photos where they juxtapose old and new images to highlight where past events took place. There's been a flurry of them to coincide with European anniversaries of the Second World War, and I previously noted these of Chile.

Now it's the turn of the ESMA. These photomontages are not quite like the other ones I've seen, as there is little attempt to join up the old and new scenes, but they are still interesting.

See more:

La ESMA en 13 fotos: del horror a la memoria (Infojus Noticias)

Book review: The Adventure of the Busts of Eva Perón

The Adventure of the Busts of Eva Perón, by Carlos Gamerro, translated by Ian Barnett in collaboration with the author, published 2015 by And Other Stories

I told someone recently that - no matter how dull it makes me sound - I have to admit I'm not a fan of humorous books. It's hard to explain - I can recognise the humour, even enjoy it, but I'm rarely drawn in to the story as well. I got The Rosie Project for Christmas, started it and some bits made me laugh out loud... but did I finish it? Nope.

All of which is a way of saying that I make an exception for Carlos Gamerro. After having read The Islands, I knew I'd have to pick up The Adventure of the Busts of Eva Perón as well, and as I tweeted shortly after starting it, it made me chuckle and cringe in turn.

The novel's hero/anti-hero is junior executive Ernesto Marroné, whose boss - the vile Fausto Tamerlán - has been abducted by left-wing guerrillas in Argentina of the mid-1970s. Marroné is distracted from the various preoccupations presented by his bowel problems, his sexual inadequacies, and his family woes, as he embarks on a wild quest to save his superior and bag himself a promotion into the bargain.

The abductors have demanded a ransom including a bust of Evita in every one of the company's offices. Visiting the plasterworks to order the 92 busts required, Marroné is caught up in a factory takeover by the workers and ends up going to unimagined lengths to procure the necessary Evas.

Gamerro's prose, ably translated by Ian Barnett, is as dark and twisted as the plot, as we and the protagonist lurch from misadventure to misadventure, fuelled by Marroné's trusty executive self-help books. The novel presents a capitalist nightmare - and its equally bad alternative. I laughed out loud, but in horror as well as amusement, because the story is teetering on the brink of the "Dirty War", and if it contains corruption, violence and crime, we know there is worse to come.

I loved this satirical take on 1970s Argentina - although, as with The Islands, I wondered if the average English-speaking reader had enough information to appreciate it all. Perhaps a few judicious footnotes (Montoneros? Triple A? López Rega? Is the reader just supposed to Wikipedia them?) wouldn't have gone amiss. For that reason I would be a little hesitant to recommend it generally. But for me - well, I guess I'm the target audience - and for others prepared to take a little time to absorb the history of the period, this novel pays off.

Argentina: Human rights achievements of 2014

Infojus Noticias provides us with a look back at Argentina's year in human rights, so here's a translation of the main points.

Found grandchildren:
The recovery of the identity of Ignacio Guido Montoya Carlotto on August 5 was the biggest media event of the year, but he was not the first grandchild to be found. On February 6, a young woman was confirmed as the daughter of Oscar Rómulo Gutiérrez and Liliana Isabel Acuña. Later, the forensic anthropology team found the remains of three pregnant woman who had been murdered before giving birth. In August, Ana Libertad Baratti de la Cuadra was found, and at the end of the this year grandchild number 116, the child of Ana Rubel and Hugo Castro, regained his true identity.

Trials for appropriations:
There were four trials linked to found grandchildren. On September 9, the appropriators (i.e. the illegal adopters) of Pablo Gaona Miranda (found grandchild no. 106), plus the person accused of handing over the child to them, were sentenced to between six and eight years in jail. Medical personnel linked to the births of disappeared children and the falsification of their documentations also received prison sentences.

Trials for state terrorism:
14 trials relating to clandestine detention centres drew to a close. In October, the trial over crimes in La Cacha concluded. Six human rights abusers were convicted of the murder of Osvaldo Tordo Sigfrido de Benedetti, six more for the Metán case, and ten for crimes in Rosario. 

The number of perpetrators convicted since the return to democracy is, therefore, 559.

Ongoing trials
There are currently 17 oral trials ongoing, 11 of which started this year. In these, 279 people are accused of over 2,220 crimes. These include the mega-trials for the detention centres of La Perla and ESMA, people accused of crimes under Plan Condor, and of the systematic stealing of babies.

Legal investigations
62 new legal investigations were initiated up to October.

Fugitives
49 alleged human rights abusers are currently on the run; this is down from 73 at the end of last year. Three were caught in early December.

Identifications
Finally, the EAAF managed to identify ten disappeared people this year, in addition to the three pregnant woman mentioned above. This brings the total it has identified in Argentina to 651.

2014: 4 nietos, 17 juicios en marcha y otros 40 represores condenados (Infojus Noticias)

Most-read posts of 2014

2014 is drawing to a close and it's been a mixed one for the blog, with life getting in the way quite frequently. Nevertheless, there have been a few highlights in Latin America and in my posts. There's no question about the stand-out LatAm event of the year for me: it was Estela de Carlotto of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo discovering her own grandchild in August. A truly amazing moment, the kind that you didn't dare think would happen. There was a massive outpouring of emotion from Argentina, and indeed the world, in response.

These are my top five posts of the year:

"Escrache" is word of the year for Fundéu BBVA - 1 January

Book review: Carmen Castillo's Un día de octubre en Santiago - 8 March

Argentina: Grandmothers' president finds her grandson - 6 August


Peru: Exhibition of victims' clothing - 10 September

Response to "Memory is not history"- 15 September

Argentina: Revenge is a dish best served cold

Here's a fantastic radio documentary about Victor Basterra, who worked as a photographer while detained in the ESMA (Spanish only). "Revenge is a dish best served cold", he comments as he explains how he smuggled images of military personnel out of the detention centre, which were later used to convict human rights abusers in court.



El fotógrafo (Radio Ambulante)

Thanks to Steven for drawing my attention to it.

Argentina: Photos of 1930 coup

When I write about a coup in Argentina, it's almost invariably the 1976 one - but in fact, this was the sixth coup of the 20th century in the country. Infojus Noticias has some amazing photos from the national archive of the one that kicked them all off, in 1930.

See more here:
Quince fotos inéditas del primer golpe de Estado argentino (Infojus Noticias)

Argentina: The Madre with the camera

Infojus Noticias has a great piece on Adelina Dematti, a member of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo who photographed the group's struggle using a Kodak hidden under her clothes. She said she did it so that her disappeared son Carlos "would know he was not alone, that we were looking for him". She never found out what happened to him.

Her act of recording meetings and demonstrations was extremely dangerous under the dictatorship and provides us with a record of the Madres movement from an insider's perspective. The Madres are now active on social media and I think we can be sure if those options had been available to them in the 1970s and 80s, they would have used them, but as it is, Dematti's photos are unusual.

She photographed the Mothers' gatherings, the participation in the large Marches of Resistence, meetings with Nobel peace prize winner Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, writer Julio Cortázar and, later, president Néstor Kirchner. I particularly like the picture of the 1983 Marcha de la resistencia showing the silhouette cutouts of the disappeared - the "silouetazo".

See more here:
Las fotos de Adelina, la Madre que documentó la búsqueda de su hijo (Infojus Noticias)

Argentina: Appeals for those with doubts about their identities to come forward

Infojus Noticias has done a nice piece featuring several of the TV ads the Abuelas have used over the years to encourage people who think they might be children of the disappeared to come forward. This is my favourite:

Chile: Priest involved in irregular adoptions

While Argentina is well known for the stolen babies during its dictatorship, there have been allegations of irregular adoptions in other countries, such as Spain and now Chile.

The Catholic Church in Chile has confirmed that priest Gerardo Joannon was involved in the adoption of two babies without the knowledge of their mothers in the 1970s or 1980s, and also that he had an "inappropriate relationship" with one of the women. He apparently even conducted masses for "dead" babies whom he in fact knew to be alive.

The pattern seems to be that single pregnant women were pressured to give up their children for adoption, and if they refused, they were told that they had died during childbirth and the children were given up anyway.

The Church wanted Joannon to go to Spain on retreat but Chile has now said he cannot leave the country while police investigations are ongoing (good!).

The situation in Argentina was even more brutal and also less ambiguously linked to the military junta. There, "subversive" prisoners who were found to be pregnant were deliberately kept alive in detention centres until they gave birth and then murdered, while their babies were sold or given away, usually to families regarded as "good" or with military connections.

In Chile, it remains to be seen whether the practice of taking babies from women deemed "inappropriate" mothers was widespread; I think this certainly can't be ruled out. I'm sure it would be more convenient for the Church and the State if Joannon turned out to have been acting more or less alone, but this may not be the full story. Even without an organised "baby-stealing" plan, it is also possible that the atmosphere in Chile at the time - conservative, authoritarian - made it extremely difficult for vulnerable people to question or stand up to representatives of the Church, who judged that they had the intervene in the children's future.

Investigación por adopciones irregulares confirma participación de Gerardo Joannon en dos casos (La Tercera)
Chile's Catholic Church Says Priest Stole Babies for Adoption (Newsweek)
Chilean priest probed after 'stolen babies' scandal (BBC)

Argentina: 20 years since the AMIA attack

I missed the actual anniversary, which was 20 July, but just wanted to share this Youtube video from Memoria Activa on 20 years of impunity for the terrorist attack on the AMIA in Buenos Aires (Spanish only).

Argentina round-up

Here's a bit of a round-up from Argentina over the past few days.

See here for the text of the press conference at the Abuelas offices.

IPS examines the response to the discovery of Guido Montoya Carlotto (Ignacio Hurban). Interesting stuff as always, although I have to say "speechless" doesn't seem that appropriate given the rate my Twitter feed has been moving the past week ;-)

The BBC looks at the "Guido effect", with a jump in calls to the Grandmothers - in Spanish or English. 

English-speakers can read about the press conference with Guido and Estela here, and check out the piece by Uki Goñi in Time; I like his description of Argentina as "exploding with joy".

...And wait, there's a non-Guido story! Bolivia has extradited an Argentine ex-officer, Jorge Horacio Paez Senestrari, accused of crimes against humanity.

Update: Carlotto family meet found grandson

The story of the discovery of Estela Carlotto's grandson has been moving fast, and yesterday the family got to meet their missing member in person. This will have come at the instigation of the man himself, as the Grandmothers said yesterday that he would choose when the time was right. The private meeting took place in La Plata.

Estela and her children Claudia, Remo and Kibo are reported to have spoken with Guido for more than six hours. Claudia told Pagina/12 that when they were saying goodbye, Guido said "Chau, Abu" ("Bye, grandma") "and my mother nearly fainted". She also said he looks like this father and is a very warm yet determined person.

All three of Estela's surviving children work in the human rights field, incidentally: Claudia heads the commission for the right to identity (Conadi), Remo is president of the human rights commission in the Argentine chamber of deputies, and Kibo is the human rights secretary of the province of Buenos Aires.

The Grandmothers have also called for Guido and his family to be given privacy to get to know each other, and criticized some of the reporting on the story, including the publication of the name by which he is known. It was noticeable yesterday that they had not given the name but it was quickly picked up on by the media. Apparently some details were revealed by the court involved in the case. Now, no matter how fascinating the story, it is time to give those involved some space.




“Estamos felices, hablamos de todo y nos superentendimos” (Pagina/12)
Argentina Plaza de Mayo activist meets 'stolen grandson' (BBC)
Guido Montoya Carlotto ya conoció a su verdadera familia (official statement from the Abuelas)

Reaction to discovery of Estela Carlotto's grandson

Just a few highlights:

Here's the cover of Pagina/12, which also runs a wonderful interview with Estela Carlotto describing how she found out that her grandson had been discovered (via a DNA test).

Here's La Nación, which also reminds us that Guida has not just one grandmother, but two.

Here's the Buenos Aires Herald with an editorial from Robert Cox, talking of "a shining moment in a long struggle" and recalling his personal memories of the Grandmothers.

In English, see also the BBC and on the Guardian you can see a video of Carlotto with subtitles.

Argentina: Grandmothers' president finds her grandson

I am genuinely so pleased that I get to write this post; I think there can hardly have been a happier one since I started blogging.

Estela Carlotto, president of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo, has found her own disappeared grandchild after over 35 years of searching.

Guido Montoya Carlotto, as his parents wanted to call him, is the son of Laura Carlotto and Walmir Oscar Montoya. Laura was abducted in November 1977, when she was two and a half months pregnant, and kept in captivity until she gave birth on 26 June 1978. A few weeks later, she was murdered. Both her remains and those of her partner have been identified.

Guido, or Ignacio Urban as he has been named, came forward himself to the Grandmothers with doubts about his identity which he had apparently had for some time. DNA testing confirmed his true parentage.

For decades, Estela Carlotto has stood at the head of the Grandmothers' group with dignity and determination as they fought for truth and justice. For decades, she has also watched while others were reunited with their relatives. Now it's her turn. That is just truly amazing.

Carlotto said, "I wanted to be able to hug him before I died, and now soon I will be able to do that."

There has been an absolute outpouring of emotion in Argentina and across the world on social media and in the news, and I will try to deal with some of those images separately.

Of course, there is always media attention when a grandchild is found, but it is much greater this time and that will surely make an already delicate situation for those concerned more pressured. Since the grandson's job puts him at least partly in the public sphere - he's a musician - it will be relatively easy to find out more about him and I have to wonder whether his "appropriators" might not be publicly identified soon.

Just to note, since questions about this sometimes arise among readers outside Argentina, the Grandmothers are well-equipped and have access to professional assistance, including psychologists. No one expects Guido to simply shrug off decades of upbringing in a moment. He was not present the press conference; they never are. Nor has he met his famous relative yet; that will have to wait until he is ready. For more on what it's like to find out your parents are not your parents and your real parents were, in fact, murdered by a military dictatorship, see my posts here and here.

But before all the questions and challenges that will have to be faced, let's just take a moment to reflect that truth has prevailed, the struggle was fought and won, and the junta's attempt to wipe people from the face of the earth spectacularly failed. Congratulations Guido, and Estela.

Official statement from the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo
Argentina's campaigning grandmother finds grandson born to death camp mother (Guardian)
Estela de Carlotto encontró a su nieto, Guido, tras 36 años de búsqueda (La Nación)
Al final, Guido también buscó a Estela (Pagina/12)

Argentina: Mothers' headscarf recognised as national symbol

The white headscarf worn by the Madres de Plaza de Mayo has been declared an Argentina national symbol by the country's chamber of deputies.

A little bit of background: the mothers looking for their children in the early, and extremely dangerous, years of the dictatorship needed a way of identifying each other. They chose a white cloth nappy (diaper) to wear on their heads, but this soon developed into the proper headscarf, often with the name of their child embroidered on it. The mothers of the Linea Fundadora group (see image above) still wear these, but the Asociación Madres do not single out any one of the disappeared over the others. The headscarves are now painted on the square in the front of the Casa Rosada where the mothers have been gathering for over 30 years.

The initiative of Leonardo Grosso (FPV) was backed by 176 deputies, while seven voted against and four abstained. 

There has been some opposition to the move on social media, however, with users drawing attention to the links between the Madres group and the Kirchner regime, and the allegations of corruption the Madres have been linked with.

An editorial in La Nación also criticises the decision as one of "political correctness" and accuses it of fostering division in the country rather than reconciliation.

I do see the headscarf as an important symbol for Argentina, but I cannot deny that the reputation of the Madres (by which I am referring to the Asociación Madres led by Hebe Bonafini) has suffered in recent years. The group has broadened its mandate very significantly from a focus on justice for the disappeared to education and explicit political aims. It has also been linked with a shady housing scheme. It's hardly surprising if these things stick in people's minds more than, or alongside, the original uses of the iconic headscarf.

El pañuelo blanco de las Madres (Pagina/12)
Siete diputadas opositoras rechazaron declarar “emblema nacional” al pañuelo de las Madres (Telam)
Los pañuelos de las Madres de Plaza de Mayo serán símbolos patrios (La Gaceta)
Un nuevo e inaceptable emblema oficial de la Nación (La Nación)

Argentina: RIP Clyde Snow

Forensic anthropologist Clyde Snow died just over a month ago aged 86. Sometimes known as the "Sherlock Holmes of bones", he played a key role in training Argentine forensic anthropologists to identify victims of the country's dictatorship. He also worked with remains in El Salvador, Guatemala, Chile, Brazil and other countries outside Latin America. One of his major achievements was helping to identify fugitive Nazi war criminal Josef Mengele.

“Witnesses may forget throughout the years, but the dead, those skeletons, they don’t forget,” he told The Times in 2002. “Their testimony is silent, but it is also very eloquent.”

 Argentine human rights defenders expressed their gratitude to Snow.

Chicha Mariani, founder of Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo, told the Herald last week how grateful she was to him for his work: “He was such a good man, he dedicated so much of his time to us.”

The Argentine forensic team went on to advise others, including those from Peru, so Snow's pioneering work continues to contribute to clearing up atrocities all around the world.

Clyde Snow, Sleuth Who Read Bones From King Tut’s to Kennedy’s, Dies at 86 (NY Times)
Clyde Snow - obituary (Telegraph)
Stories in bones (The Economist)
Farewell to the Sherlock Holmes of bones (The Buenos Aires Herald)
Un hombre que hizo justicia con la ciencia (Pagina/12)

Chile: The Year I was Born

A couple of years ago, I wrote briefly about Lola Arias' play My Life After (Mi vida despues) in which the Argentine characters discuss their parents and their involvement in the dictatorship. Now, Arias has turned to Chile with a piece called The Year I was Born (El Año en que nací), which also uses material like photos, letters and old clothing in the performance.

As the name suggests, the cast were all born during the Pinochet dictatorship.

"To be part of this show was a big decision for all of those involved and not always an easy one," explains Arias. "Those whose family history includes relatives who were killed or suffered badly under Pinochet stand side by side on stage with those whose family members worked for the regime. Some come from families who chose to stay and resist, and others from those who went into exile."
[...]
While Viviana Hernandez was researching her history for the show, she discovered that the father she had been told was dead is serving a prison sentence for his part in the murder of two opponents of the Pinochet regime.

Pinochet generation draw on real-life tensions to play out Chile's dark days (Guardian)

For more on Hernandez' amazing story, see: The Father I Never Knew

Argentine footballers' visit to Abuelas

Here's the video of the visit of Argentine national football players, including Lionel Messi, to the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. They encourage those with doubts about their identities to approach the Grandmothers as "we've been looking for you for ten World Cups".

Argentina: Elisabeth Kaesemann (2)

See also my first post on this issue here.

I've just watched the documentary on German broadcaster Das Erste "Was geschah mit Elisabeth K?" (dir: Eric Friedler) and I must say, it was excellent. German-speakers can watch it here and I really recommend it.

Elisabeth Käsemann was a German citizen who was disappeared, tortured and murdered by the military regime in 1977.

The story presented in the documentary is of diplomats and sports officials who, firstly, had little or no interest in intervening in the disappearance of a young woman who was perceived as possibly having extremist views or of being "mixed up in something", and secondly, who conspired to cover up her eventual death until after a friendly match between Germany and Argentina so that there was no chance of it overshadowing the game.

In contrast to the British and French governments, Germany was noticeably relucant to protest at the mistreatment of one of its citizens. Not so incidentally, Germany was also the major supplier of armaments to the Argentine state.

The documentary interviews several former German national footballers about their visit to the country in 1977, a year before the start of the World Cup hosted by Argentina. Listening to them was very interesting; while it is disappointing they were not more outspoken at the time, their comments now were considered and self-critical, especially those of Paul Breitner.

Truly jawdropping, and not in a good way, were the views of Jörg Kastl, who was German ambassador to Argentina during the early part of the dictatorship and who died after filming was completed earlier this year. He openly explains directly to the camera how it was Elisabeth's own fault she was murdered. "She would have been prepared to throw bombs," he said. An odd tense, forced upon him by the inconvenient fact that she never threw any bombs, but paid with her life anyway. And most brazenly, "She was shot and buried, and not entirely without reason, because, as I said, she came to Argentina with really explosive thoughts". Yes, thoughts.

All in all, a disturbing look at how human rights and respect for life are subordinated to business and sport in the context of international diplomacy.

ARD-Doku über Argentiniens Junta: Fußball und Verbrechen (Spiegel Online)
Wie das Auswärtige Amt und der DFB in Argentinien versagten (Der Tagesspiegel)