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This year marks 49 years since the beginning of Argentina’s last civil-military dictatorship. The military regime that lasted from 1976 to 1983 can be summarized by stark figures: 30,000 people detained and disappeared, 3,824 individuals investigated in criminal cases for crimes against humanity, 1,197 convicted, over 800 clandestine detention, torture, and extermination centers scattered across the country, and more than 500 babies abducted– with over 300 of whom still do not know their true identity.
However, the dictatorship cannot be reduced to statistics. When reflecting on that time, I often recall one memory from my teenage years that powerfully exemplifies its cruelty. Every day, as I walked through the corridors of my high school, I passed by a mural-sized photograph in one of the underground classrooms. “The Class” by Marcelo Brodsky, featured a cohort of his classmates in the classroom where I had music classes, and alongside it, he annotated the fates of each of the 31 members during the dictatorship. At first glance, the black-and-white image seemed neutral, but a closer inspection revealed poignant notes: “Erik had enough; he lives in Madrid,” “Leonor got away and recently returned to Buenos Aires,” “Etel married her high school boyfriend, and her children are now students again.”
What truly shocked me, however, were the crossed-out faces, marked with colored crayons. These were the classmates who had been disappeared or killed. In my school alone, 108 students, teachers, and former students suffered the same fate.
Amidst such cruelty, a powerful, female-led movement emerged: the Madres de Plaza de Mayo. These brave mothers, whose children and grandchildren had been abducted, began their search for justice. They scoured courthouses, police stations, hospitals, and churches, but received nothing but silence in return. In the face of this, 14 Madres staged the first protest on April 30, 1977, walking in circles around the Plaza de Mayo, defiantly challenging the military dictatorship. Wearing white headscarves—symbolizing the diapers of their lost children—and holding photos and names of the disappeared, they created a public and enduring symbol of resistance to the regime’s repression. Within this group of women emerged the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo (Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo), those who searched for their abducted grandchildren.
The enduring legacy from the Madres and Abuelas of Plaza de Mayo goes well beyond the end of the dictatorship. Over the years, they have developed various strategies and tools to search for children who were forcibly taken during Argentina’s military dictatorship—children who are now adults. They built alliances with scientists, journalists, teachers, lawyers, athletes, and artists who contributed their expertise.
Through campaigns, they shaped public understanding of the crime of child appropriation, distinguishing it from lawful adoptions. They played a key role in advancing genetic science, particularly developing the “Abuelidad Index,” which allowed them to identify grandchildren even in the absence of their parents.
Legally, they contributed to international human rights protections by advocating for the inclusion of a new right in the Convention on the Rights of the Child: the right to identity. They also boosted and participated in the trials against those responsible for the crimes against humanity in Argentina. Up to this day, their search continues, as many still do not know their true identity. As recently as January of this year, they found the 139th abducted grandchild.
Transnational activism: the role of Europe in Argentina’s human rights resistance
An important axis during Argentina’s last civil-military dictatorship is the role of European transnational activism in the cause of human rights. On June 1, 1978, Dutch sports journalist Frits Barend, sent to cover the football World Cup in Argentina, witnessed the Madres marching in the Plaza de Mayo. He approached them and asked what they needed and how he could help. Later that day, Barend confronted the dictator Jorge Rafael Videla in an interview, asking him bluntly, “Where are the desaparecidos?” Similarly, Jan Van der Putten, another Dutch journalist, was the first to conduct a televised interview with the Madres, bringing their fight for justice to the Dutch public and making their struggle known to the world.
These actions by Dutch journalists are just two examples of a continuum of actions of transnational solidarity and human rights activism that characterized Europe’s civil society response, extending well beyond the dictatorship. The reception and protection of thousands of Argentine exiles across European countries, the French-based Committee for the Boycott of Argentina’s World Cup (COBA) movement, and the International Association for the Defense of Artist Victims of Repression in the World (AIDA) protest in Paris in 1981, and the Dutch Parliament banning the Queen’s father from attending the Royal Wedding due to his ties to the Argentine junta, demonstrated Europe’s civil society’s commitment to standing with the human rights cause in Argentine.
More recently, in 2024, the homage of French President Emmanuel Macron to the French victims of the dictatorship before meeting with current president Javier Milei, who has been vocal about his criticism towards the human rights movements. This continued attention over time underscores the power of transnational activism as complementary to the local cause of the Madres and Abuelas of the Plaza de Mayo of Memoria, Verdad y Justicia (Memory, Truth, and Justice).
With this in mind, the Florence School of Transnational Governance has chosen to honor the longstanding and enduring human rights work of the Madres and Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo from Argentina by naming its cafeteria after them. To mark this occasion, the STG will host a panel on March 28th to present diverse perspectives on the role of the Madres and Abuelas and its relation and how it resonates with the democratic challenges we face today—not only the global decline in democratic regimes, but also the weakening of democratic institutions and principles. By reflecting on historical struggles for truth, justice, and memory, the discussion will explore how past experiences can inform and strengthen current efforts to defend democracy.