CHILE

Allow me to reflect a little

 

Heraldo Povea Pacci posted this on Facebook on 15th August and gave us permission to translate and post it to Labour Hub.

Half a century ago…

One 15th August 50 years ago, I was detained by the Chilean Navy Secret Service and then taken by the DINA [Chilean secret police] to Villa Grimaldi [a notorious torture centre].

That was five difficult weeks.

Last 23rd July I was confronted with Krassnoff [the man convicted of crimes against humanity for his involvement in Villa Grimaldi] and laughed in his face. After all the violence, all the resources he had to wipe out our consciousness, I left Grimaldi whole, and ready to keep resisting. 

My anti-capitalist convictions and determination are intact. I will continue to work to change the system. I do not believe in reforms that simply strengthen those in control, as history has shown many times.

This 15th August 2025 I will celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Revolutionary Left Movement, MIR, my party that no longer exists, but which brought together and marked the lives of so many exceptional men and women. 

My membership of the MIR built my ethics and my ideological conviction.

I will die deeply proud to have been in the trenches and in struggle with them. I will die a MIRista, with red and black in my heart.

The only thing that hurts was the weeping of my mother when the repressive forces dragged me out of my home and put me in their car, just like it says in the song.  Apart from that, I am happy.

The song referred to is El viejo comunista [The old communist] by Manuel García, available here. Above text and lyrics below translated by Sue Lukes.

The  old communist

Lyrics by Manuel Garcia

Un viejo que fuera comunista
Se sienta a fumar la tarde entera
Mientras buena lluvia cae afuera
Con voz desnuda, el viejo piensa

Porque coinciden en su ventana
Palomas grises con la pena que fumara
Palomas grises con la pena que fumara

Torna sus ojos a un día lejos
Cuando a un libro un verso, a una muchacha un pensamiento
Cuando a un libro un verso, a una muchacha un pensamiento
Cree que ya nada lo sorprende
Que se curó de espanto, desgastó el llanto
Se curó de espanto, desgastó el llanto

Recordó canciones que cantaba
Y conversaciones con amigos hasta el alba
Y conversaciones con amigos hasta el alba
Recordó la esquina de su casa
Cuando dijo adiós y vio a su madre que lloraba
Cuando dijo adiós y vio a su madre que lloraba

Y ahora en sus ojos también llueve
Pues le sorprende que aún le duele
Los años, la vida, su amor
Los años, la vida, su amor

Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh aún le duele
Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh aún le duele
Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh aún le duele
Oh, oh-oh aún le duele

An old man who was a communist

Sits, smoking, the whole afternoon

While the good rain falls outside

With his unarmed voice the old man thinks

Because in his window, grey pigeons

Join the sorrows he smokes away.

He turns his eyes to a long gone day

When a verse, a book,

A girl a thought, when a verse a book

A girl a thought..

He believes that nothing now surprises him

He has healed from the terror, the tears are all gone

He remembered the songs they sang

Talking with friends until the dawn,

talking with friends until the dawn

he remembers the corner of his home

when he said goodbye and saw his mother crying

when he said goodbye and saw his mother crying

and now his eyes cry too

because he is surprised that that still hurts

the years, life, his love

the years, life, his love

oh, it still hurts

it still hurts

Image: : https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Movimiento_de_Izquierda_Revolucionaria_(Chile).svg Logo of the Revolutionary Left Movement. Author: HapHaxion, licensed under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.