Te recuerdo Victor

Crossing the great divide from North to South London on a rainy night in February to attend a lecture in a chilly old Victorian hall might not sound like a dream date. Well, it was. Philippe Sands is an expert in international law, human rights and our collective and judicial response to historical and contemporary acts of genocide. His talk was on impunity and the calling to account of the powerful. Sands’s latest book “38 Londres Street” is about General Pinochet and his arrest and trial in the UK for committing international crimes after stepping down as President of Chile.

The overthrow of the Allende government and the murder, torture and disappearance of tens of thousands of Chileans is shocking even after fifty years. But it is hard to remain shocked today in the face of continuing war, genocide, and human rights offenses across the world. Sands is not the only one to compare the growth of fascism in Europe in the 1930’s to what’s happening now. Minneapolis, which as a sunbelt American I had always associated with ice hockey and beer, is now inextricably linked with murder and fear on the streets of hometown America. Back to being shocked, Philippe Sands counsels us to take the long view, to keep our moral purpose and our belief in the necessity and endurance of international law. And when asked by a young woman in the audience what steps an individual can take when the bad guys have all the good cards (she didn’t say that, but I do.) Do what you can, he replied. And don’t give up.

Victor Jara was a beloved singer, theater director and political activist in Chile, cruelly tortured and murdered by the Pinochet regime in 1973. He wrote one of the most beautiful songs I know, “Te recuerdo Amanda”, in memory of his mother.