LAW AND ORDER IN CHILE

• Document Type: CREST
• Collection: General CIA Records
• Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): CIA-RDP88-01314R000300450018-5
• Release Decision: RIPPUB
• Original Classification: K
• Document Page Count: 1
• Document Creation Date: December 16, 2016
• Document Release Date: October 6, 2004
• Sequence Number: 18
• Publication Date: April 13, 1975
• Content Type: MAGAZINE

NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE
Approved For ReleaseVgQ JlQ1j 8I.?g4-RDP88-01314R00030
3y Victor Perera
- SANTIAGO. I had come to Chile not long ago as
in admitted opponent of the military junta that
mseated Marxist President Salvador Allende Gos-
ens on Sept. 11, 1973, in one of the, bloodiest
.ilitary take-overs 'in Latin America's history.
would find that the military junta's policies have
rippled the country's long-standing democratic
_stitutions in ways that go far beyond the damage
-ready suffered during Allende's three years in
fice.
I entered as a tourist, to forestall the harassment
acountered by two fellow journalists' after they
id written -articles critical of the Government.
?seph Novitski of The Washington Post had been
-aced under house arrest for several hours, and
tipped at Piudahuel Airport and placed on the next
ane to Lima.
- Tensions then were heightened by the assassina-
.n of. exiled Army Gen. Carlos Prats Gonzales,
ho had been Allende's Commander. In Chief. The
neral and his wife were blown up in their car,
Argentina, by unknown assailants,'and his body
as flown back to Santiago for a politically
-arged funeral. General Prats, who had still com-
ended the respect and loyalty of many younger
ricers and enlisted men despite his promise to
ap a "correct" silence while in exile, had remained.
-e of the few men. considered strong enough to
ark an internal rebellion against Gen. Augusto
zochet Ugarte and :his ruling junta. Another source
added tension was a holdup of the Bank of Chile,
act that embarrassed the junta and led to
ssive roundups of suspected leftists.
soon after my arrival, I walk around. Santiago's
:er city, which is outwardly- calm and orderly.
L, streets are spotlessly clean and the air is so
ar that distant Andean snow peaks seem to
ig in air, just above the city's rooftops: The der
-tment stores seem scantily. stocked, and de-
d of chic; even the store-window mannequins
k dowdy and outmoded.. Bookstore windows
_minently display Piers Paul Read's account of
Uruguayan Andean survivors, "Alive," in
snish translation. Other favorite titles are
e Little Prince" and Richard -Bach's
Ivador Gaviota" ("`Jonathan Livingston Seagull").
university bookstores, student journals contain
Iles on archeology, the stiff new grading system
pre-20th-century literature and history. There is
:onspicuous vacuum on politics and current
n ts.
n uneasy stillness pervades Santiago's restau-
ts and cafes, particularly in the evening; the
_in. of speaking in hushed voices is felt like a
Approved For R
cold ' draft. As I sit in the Waldorf Cafe. I hear
the radio a Government spokesman expressing "th
people's great admiration for the' men who guar
us.' -He calls for closer relations between
grateful citizenry and the military. "On the Da
of the Fatherland write your local garrison and
share with a soldier some anecdotes of his life .. .
and you, women citizens, partake with a soldier's
wife her valorous experiences while. he is in the
guardhouse performing his duty...
The huge central post office is empty, as deso-
late as a mausoleum. The sullen clerk refuses to!
sell me stamps and'. insists on machine-stamping
my letter so that I cannot. mail ' it from outside.!
A hand-lettered sign in front of another window
reads, "Do not inquire except for urgent reasons,
and then be brief." The clerk sits thumbing.desultor-
ily through a sheaf of papers. '
At the rear of the post office a large red and blue
o
t
b
as
i
s
u
o
"
s
p
er
o
ts w
th
pecio
s l
gic,
In Every Chilean
There Is a Soldier. In. Every Soldier There Is a
Chilean." The small copyright below-belongs to a
United States advertising agency.
The oppressiveness in the city lets up briefly at
dusk, in that charged interval between day and
night when the blood quickens and strangers smile
and brush shoulders in the street. At twilight, a
schoolgirl smiles and lifts her shoulder at me. This I
innocent flirtation startles me out of a deepening
numbness. I realize that during my stay in Chile
my senses have been closing up; r am becoming
anesthetized. The absence of gesture has been so
prevalent that even the simplest transactions ac-
quire a lucid distinctness.
By around 10 at night, three hours before the
curfew, restless crowds mill about the parklike
Plaza de Armas. Under state-of-siege provisions,
organized public assembly is prohibited, but ten-
sions build during the day, and the plaza is one of
the few places where they can be released without
attracting the attention of the military police.
' As I enter' the square a ragpicker is screaming
that his sack of old clothes has been stolen. "They
have robbed me," he shouts, flailing his arms at the
crowd that has gathered to jeer him. "They have .
beaten me on the head. I am not a bad man." A
policeman tries to calm the ragpicker but he
keeps breaking loose and flailing his arms at the
spectators who taunt him and squeal aloud as they
dodge his blows. A second policeman starts to beat
him.
"They are all the same, these filthy police," a
woman, in provincial dress mutters aloud. A bent'
old man standing nearby reproaches her: :"One doesn't speak that way any more."
The woman wheels around and turns on the old
man. t"~Wgho are you to tell me how to speak, you
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