MOTHERS' CRUSADE IN MEMORY OF THE DISAPPEARED

San Jose Mercury News (CA)

ARGENTINES CONTINUE 22-YEAR QUEST FOR JUSTICE

Author: BATIA RABEC, Mercury News Staff Writer

Dateline: BUENOS AIRES, Argentina

White scarves bright under the warm springtime sun, the mothers begin their march around the Plaza de Mayo, the spot in Buenos Aires that symbolizes 188 years of Argentine freedom and independence.

Every week for 22 years, the women have walked the same heartbreaking procession with slow and halting steps, some aided by canes.

More than a protest march, the sad circuit of these elderly women is a means to keep alive the memories of their missing children, victims of the ''dirty war'' the former Argentine junta conducted to eliminate its opponents.

''We are not dumb; we know we won't find them. But we'll keep fighting until we find out who gave the orders, where, when and why,'' says Lidia Tati Almeida, whose 20-year-old son disappeared in 1975 on his way to the university.

Today the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo -- known simply as Las Madres -- are joined by ''the Grandmothers'' and ''the Children,'' two other organizations that search for those unaccounted for.

Though in many cases their loved ones will never return, these three generations search for justice and demand accountability. Their hopes have been lifted by the recent arrests of one of the three Argentine junta leaders and Gen. Augusto Pinochet, the former Chilean dictator facing charges of genocide, murder and torture.

A Spanish judge is investigating whether junta leaders -- along with the militaries of Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay and Bolivia -- collaborated with Pinochet to kidnap Chilean exiles and return them to Chile for execution.

''We won't stop until everyone who was responsible is detained, tried and jailed,'' says Nair Amuedo, whose daughter, son-in-law and brother remain unaccounted for. ''We won't allow our children to be anonymous. They should have a name! We'll keep marching until we drop!''

Argentines endured years of terror, silence, kidnappings and disappearances after a military coup headed by Jorge Videla, Emilio Massera and Orlando Agosti put an end to democracy in 1976.

The military government started the ''dirty war,'' a systematic persecution of what it called ''subversives and guerrilla people.'' They were often students active in the leftist movements popular in those days. In many cases, siblings, friends and relatives were kidnapped when the secret services raided the homes of the alleged ''suspicious ones.''

To Argentines, they became ''the disappeared ones.''

The military government, in power until 1983, denied all involvement. But there were persistent rumors of killings, torture and concentration camps run by the military.

Adolfo Perez Esquivel, recipient of the 1980 Nobel Peace Prize, was one of the victims of that political war.

''They tortured me and subjected me to the 'flight of death,' where I was chained for two hours. They threatened me all the while that I'd be thrown out into the water,'' he says about the notorious flights over the Atlantic Ocean and the Rio de la Plata.

While Perez Esquivel survived to tell his story, 10,000 others did not.

Founded in 1983 with the restoration of democracy in Argentina, the National Commission for the Disappeared Ones received 10,000 claims.

''In fact there were 30,000 people who disappeared. Entire families were wiped out and there was no one alive to make any claims,'' says Amuedo.

Between 1983 and 1986 the junta and other military commanders were prosecuted. Massera, an admiral, served five years of a life sentence for his involvement in several kidnappings, tortures and disappearances, until he and other officers involved in the ''dirty war'' were pardoned by President Carlos Saul Menem in 1990.

But the pardon did not cover the military's kidnapping of scores of babies born in prison camps. The children were taken from their mothers at birth and adopted by childless military families.

Massera, 73, was arrested Tuesday and charged with ''appropriating children.'' He has denied any involvement and responsibility in the kidnapping of two children born in the Navy Mechanics School in Buenos Aires, which he supervised as naval commander.

Two weeks ago he told the Argentine radio journalist Carlos Varela: ''I don't remember (the facts) because in all honesty, I never knew about them.''

Among the thousands of disappeared ones were the daughter, son-in-law and grandson of 79-year-old Rosa Roisinblit. Massera now stands accused of kidnapping her grandson.

When her eight-months-pregnant daughter, Patricia, was kidnapped Oct. 6, 1978, Roisinblit began her search.

''In the beginning I went to all the hospitals, orphanages and foster homes looking for my grandson. During my search I would bump into all the grandmothers who were doing exactly the same: looking for their children,'' says Roisinblit, whose daughter was active in the guerrilla movement Montoneros.

She and these other grandmothers founded Abuelas, the Grandmothers, whose mission is to find the missing grandchildren. ''We have the double burden of being mothers and grandmothers,'' says Roisinblit, the group's vice president.

Though the Grandmothers do not know where their grandchildren are today, they are certain those babies were born in captivity and separated from their mothers at birth.

Roisinblit learned about her daughter's fate years later: ''Witnesses came to me and told me how my daughter was tortured and murdered at the ESMA,'' the Naval Mechanics School, she says. ''My grandson was born there.''

Many of the disappeared were executed at the ESMA. The Grandmothers are looking for the children who were born in captivity. They want to reunite them with their biological families, and are determined to fight Massera's claim that these stories are in the past and ''have already been tried and closed.''

According to the Grandmothers' records, more than 200 children were taken from their mothers and given up for adoption to police officers, militaryofficers or accomplices of the government.

So far they have found 59 grandchildren who had been counted among the disappeared.

''I don't hope to find my daughter alive, but I hope to find my grandson,'' says Roisinblit. ''The day I find him I can die in peace.''

Daniel Schapira, 20, is looking for his parents and his brother. ''My father disappeared in 1977; my mother in 1978. My mother was pregnant, and I was too young to remember the moment when they came to the house and kidnapped them,'' he says.

Schapira is not alone in his search. He joined the Children -- known by its Spanish acronym, HIJOS -- an organization founded in 1996 to look for parents and siblings who disappeared.

The Children, headquartered in Buenos Aires, has a Web page (www.hijos.org) and joins youth from around the world whose parents disappeared or lived in exile, or were kidnapped, tortured or murdered.

In many cases the Children were not told the horror stories of what happened to their parents. Even so, ''you can still feel the ghosts running inside you,'' says Carla Andreani, 17, whose parents lived in exile during the dictatorship.

The Children meet in Buenos Aires for camaraderie and political activity. ''We look for the assassins, we demonstrate in front of their homes and we let their neighbors know who they are,'' says Guadalupe Lungo Fernandez, 23, who returned from exile five years ago. ''Last week we demonstrated in front of an assassin's home and he threw eggs and flour at us.''

On June 9, Videla was detained and put under house arrest for having kidnapped children during the dirty war, the same charge leveled last week against Massera.

Their prosecutions, along with Pinochet's Oct. 16 arrest in London, have given new impetus to the march of the Mothers, the Grandmothers and the Children. Wednesday, the British House of Lords ruled that Pinochet was not immune from prosecution and that he could be extradited to Spain, where prosecutors are holding him responsible in the deaths of Spanish citizens.

''This gives us hope. It's an enormous step forward because it shows that no matter where the murderers are, they will be found and they must be tried,'' says Almeida.

Hebe de Bonafini, 70, president of the Association of Mothers of Plaza de Mayo, flew to Spain on an emergency trip upon Pinochet's arrest.

Bonafini, known around the world for her relentless fight on behalf of the disappeared, says, ''Today it's Pinochet; tomorrow it will be Videla.''

The mothers insist their march is not in vain. They will keep marching for the disappeared ones and fighting for accountability ''as long as we are alive and with our last breath,'' says Bonafini.

And every Thursday at 3:30 p.m., rain or shine, they gather around the Plaza de Mayo in hope of finding justice on behalf of their children.

''They may take away your children, your entire family, but they will never take away your hope,'' says Bonafini. ''Hope is the only thing they'll never be able to take away.''

Caption:

PHOTO: MARTIN IRIGOYEN -- SPECIAL TO THE MERCURY NEWS

Rosa Roisinblit's daughter was pregnant when she disappeared in 1978. Roisinblit is still searching for her grandson.

PHOTO: MARTIN IRIGOYEN -- SPECIAL TO THE MERCURY NEWS

Nair Amuedo wants justice in the disappearance of her daughter, son-in-law and brother. ''We'll keep marching until we drop!'' she said.