ROB SCHMITZ, HOST:
Five years have passed since Chile erupted into protest. During those months of nationwide unrest, millions of people spilled out into the streets, voicing for a desire for economic and social change. But that revolutionary fervor has now been replaced with disillusion, as John Bartlett reports from Santiago.
(SOUNDBITE OF PROTEST)
JOHN BARTLETT, BYLINE: On the 18 of October 2019, Chile, the free market oasis of Latin America, exploded into nationwide social unrest. Overnight, metro stations were torched and supermarkets looted while bewildered commentators struggled to make sense of what was happening in the most stable corner of the region.
(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: (Non-English language spoken).
BARTLETT: Ostensibly, high school students' protests over a small rise in the rush hour metro fare in Santiago had sparked the unrest, but protesters were quick to hit back.
I'm standing on an open concourse at the heart of Chile's capital, Santiago, as the traffic rumbles by. As spring turned to summer here in 2019, this wide intersection became the setting for a visceral social uprising. Chileans from all walks of life converged on the statue in the center of this square across months of unrest. They took aim at pitiful pensions, poor public services and a disconnected political elite who had little idea how the vast majority lived.
Millions of people protested as Chile teetered on the brink of revolution. But that all feels a long time ago now. The statue of General Manuel Baquedano has been removed and placed in storage. The plinth has been painted white, and there is frequently a police riot van parked surreptitiously in front of the lavender bushes planted on the island of turf.
GABRIELA MARDONES: (Speaking Spanish).
BARTLETT: Gabriela Mardones is a 23-year-old political science graduate from Punta Arenas, the blustery Patagonian city in the far south of Chile. She arrived in Santiago in 2019 to study and was quickly absorbed into the protests.
MARDONES: (Speaking Spanish).
BARTLETT: "We risked a lot with our resistance," Gabriela remembers as we stand on the fringes of the square. "But Chile is a nation of reforms. We aren't revolutionary here."
(SOUNDBITE OF VEHICLE PASSING)
BARTLETT: We walk down the Alameda, the main thoroughfare running east to west in Santiago, and sit down in the long shadow cast by the shell of a church, which was gutted by arson attacks during the course of the protests.
MARDONES: (Speaking Spanish).
BARTLETT: "I realized that this was a very fast outburst of emotion and feeling which had accumulated nationwide. But Chileans were not ready for these changes." With the country shattered by protest, Chile embarked on an ambitious and divisive path to change its constitution, which is still the 1980 document written and ratified by General Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship. But two attempts to draft a new constitution failed, the most recent last year. But Chileans had risked a great deal to raise their voices. Among those in that first wave of protests, was a 21-year-old psychology student from Santiago, Gustavo Gatica.
GUSTAVO GATICA: (Speaking Spanish).
BARTLETT: "I went out to protest because there was and still is structural inequality and injustice in Chile. Access to education and health care is unequal, and pensions are bad. There was this general feeling that we should be doing things differently and a deep desire for change."
(SOUNDBITE OF PROTEST)
BARTLETT: On the 9 of November, Gustavo attended a protest on another evening of unrest in Santiago. That night, he was hit in the face by two rubber-coated bullets fired by a police captain, Claudio Crespo, which blinded him permanently. As the Carabineros police force brutally cracked down the protests, 440 Chileans suffered eye injuries, and 34 people lost their lives.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARTLETT: Five years on, little remains of the sentiment that drew millions of people onto the street. In recent days, a few thousand people gathered in the square to mark the fifth anniversary of the protests. But according to one poll, half of Chileans believed that the protests were bad for the country, compared to just 17% who think they were good. And even as Gustavo Gatica rebuilds his life in darkness, he has no doubts that the protests were significant.
GATICA: (Speaking Spanish).
BARTLETT: "It's always worth expressing yourself," he says. "But I never thought that the politicians were capable of responding to our demands. It's an eternal process. If we are going to build something better, we will need to do it ourselves."
Time will tell if the country can harness the energy released in 2019 and incorporate it into a new social pact. Elections next year will set Chile's course, but optimism is dwindling, even amongst those who choose not to forget 2019's uprising. For NPR News, I'm John Bartlett in Santiago, Chile. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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