I have never been close to death except in
my imagination or during nightmares. The only time I considered my possible
death was in Buenos Aires
in the beginning of June 1966.
I was in the Argentine Navy as a conscript
but because of my English I had a cushy desk job as aide and translator to the
Senior US Naval Advisor, Captain, USN, Onofrio Salvia.
Much has not changed since then with the
idea that the United States
of America might allegedly interfere in the
internal running of other nations that are part of its sphere of influence. By
the beginning of June we knew (at least we in the Office of the Senior US Naval
Advisor knew) that there was something that was going to transpire soon that would
involve a military takeover of the government. At the time Argentina had
an old country docto, Arturo Illíá as its freely elected president. The press liked to bill
him (with many political cartoons) as a slow turtle. His opponent the head of
the army, General Juan Carlos Onganía, who because of his prominent moustache
was drawn as a sea lion, was eying the possibility of an extra star on his
shoulders. This star, the presidency of Argentina, has often been the
ambition of many Argentine senior officers.
The six of us who worked at the Senior US
Naval Advisor’s office knowing what was inevitable decided to have a meeting in
a nearby café. We discussed that during a possible coup d'état we might either
be ordered to shoot some of our fellow conscripts in the army or that it might
just happen the other way. We decided in the end to follow our internal
judgment. This internal judgment was never taxed as the coup d'état was a bloodless
one.
Since then only an occasional near mishap
while driving my car has ever given me the idea that my death might be
forthcoming at that precise instant.
A couple of months ago Argentine artist
Nora Patrich and I flagged a cab near a train station. We were going to the
former Escuela de Mecánica de la Armada (ESMA) the notorious place where many
Argentine political activists and many more who were simply arrested by mistake
were tortured and killed during the military government that plagued Argentina
between 1976 and 1982.
Instead of telling our taxi driver the name
of the place she gave him a corner and the street of the place. I thought this
funny and came out with it and told the driver that we were going to the ESMA. The
driver was youngish and I started a conversation with him. Patrich kept gesticulating to
me to shut up. When we got out of the cab she was livid and explained to me that in her
experience taxi drivers were not to be trusted and that many if not most were
all fachos (an Argentine expression used to denote that someone may have fascist
tendencies).
I protested and tried to have my way and that she was just being paranoid. But I
later thought about it.
In March of 1977, Nora Patrich’s first
husband Horacio Roberto Machi, a young political activist in the city of Rosario, found himself
surrounded by the authorities. The shot at his house and finally the house
began to flood as the mains had been destroyed. Machi kept a few bullets in his
gun but just to make sure he bit into a cyanide pill.
Patrich managed to save their young son and two-year-old daughter and escaped Argentina to Israel.
Now Patrich is Jewish. The Jewish people in
their history of persecution have a logical tendency to watch for their backs
and to exercise all caution. I had forgotten this when Patrich became angry in
the cab. I accused her of paranoia. I was wrong to do this as a white, Roman
Catholic old man with an English name I have no need to fear authorities of any
kind except perhaps and over-zealous American border agent at Blaine!
I am enclosing this photograph here, which
I took outside of that terrible place (and yet so beautiful) ESMA. It is
obviously a portrait of some man who disappeared or at least if one is to
believe the poster was a member of clandestine activity who went into exile in
1976. Who he is or was I have no idea. The poster was plastered over another
announcing the elections that were going to happen on October 26, 2013. I can
discern in the bottom left Cristina Kirchner who is currently the president of Argentina. The
woman on the right behind the posters is Nora Patrich on her cell phone.