I'm sure there are people today that have never heard of Argentina's Dirty War, perhaps there are even some Argentine's today that don't really know who the Disappeared are. They just know what they might have seen- a group of aging grandmothers placing themselves in front of the Casa Rosada (the presidential palace) demanding that the government answer the one question they've been trying to get answered for over three decades: where is my grandchild?
The military war machine of the 70s launched a sweeping campaign to 'disappear' anyone who spoke in opposition against the standing government. While many of those people were killed, the question remained for many, what happened to the children born to the women held in captivity?
The Washington Post provided a bit of insight into this today with a
story highlighting the plight of Alejandro Rei. The dedication of the group of aging grandmothers helped bring to light that Alejandro Rei, a well-adjusted man in his 30s, was not in fact the son of the parents he'd known all his life- Victor and Alicia Rei- but rather that of Liliana Fontana, one of the disappeared who was never seen again.
The Post story does an amazing job of tracing the life of Alejandro Rei, who's own stand-in father, Victor, confessed the truth to him after decades of secrecy. Alejandro knew the police and the grandmothers were closing in on him and he wanted to appeal to Alejandro's heart strings to help him evade prosecution. But more importantly, the article raises to light some more pressing- and not so obvious- questions. Do these children want to be found? Is it in their best interest to have the truth revealed? Who does the truth hunt actually benefit?
Alejandro Rei struggled with the news that he was adopted and that his mother was a disappeared (and probably tortured and killed). He had a wonderful childhood full of happy memories and all the opportunities of a well-to-do child. He loved his parents and thought fondly of them. His initial reaction was to protect his father but was then launched into an emotional turmoil, as can only be imagined after learning ones life was a complete lie. In the end, Alejandro helped put the father he knew in jail, disowned his mother Alicia and reconnected with his biological family. But at what emotional cost to him?
He was lucky to have enjoyed such a good upbringing and even luckier to have reconnected well with his family. But after thirty years of being disappeared, one has to question whether the truth is always a good thing. What are your thoughts? Alejandro's story brought happiness and closure to his long lost family, but will this always be the case? And is the emotional cost worth bearing for the truth?
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Online Source:
Washington Post