




|
Landmines:
A Deadly
Reminder of Chile’s Military Past
| Although
the fighting is long over, a number of anti-personnel landmines
still remain in Chile, posing a threat to civilians even today. With
casualties increasing, the people are calling on the government to
take action. |
by Louise
Egan,
Journalist
A
Killer in Disguise
Like
many Chileans, Gustavo Soto always thought the snowcapped Andean mountains
that tower ominously over the eastern fringe of this long, narrow country
were the most peaceful place on earth. But a nightmarish experience two
years ago taught him that the majestic Andes, except for patches of the Atacama
Desert in the north, and the picturesque islands of Patagonia in the south,
are riddled with one of the world’s cruelest weapons.
During
a roadside stop on a remote mountain pass in northern Chile, Soto spotted
a green plastic disc "a little bigger than a wristwatch" that he
mistook for a lid from a water container. He carelessly picked it up and
plunked it onto the dashboard of the pickup truck he was traveling in. As
he and his friends set off again, the truck lurched into gear and the
"lid" began to slide. Soto instinctively slammed his hands down
on it.
"The
truck just tore apart. The floor blew off, the roof was ripped right
through. All I felt was the explosion, but I realized right away that I
had lost my hands," Soto said, holding up the two knobby stumps that
prevent him from pulling on his own socks or taking a bus by himself.
Police said the "lid" turned out to be a U.S.-built M14
anti-personnel landmine, one of 300,000 the United States exported to
Chile in the early years of Gen. Augusto Pinochet’s 1973-1990 military
dictatorship, according to U.S. Defense Department information cited by
Human Rights Watch.
Triggered
by downward pressure, the M14 is specially designed to maim but not kill,
a strategy military analysts say is based on the premise that a wounded
soldier is more liable to the enemy than a dead one. Yet Pinochet’s
anti-Communist regime did not deploy the weapon with an internal enemy in
mind, unlike other landmine-infested nations like Colombia and Nicaragua.
Mined
Borders
Between
1974 and 1978, Chile’s army and navy dotted the sparsely populated,
rugged terrain along its borders with Peru, Bolivia and Argentina with 293
minefields containing between 250,000 and 1 million anti-personnel and
anti-tank landmines. Relations with neighboring countries were at an
all-time low, and Pinochet wanted to protect frontier zones. After more
than 20 years, those conflicts are long forgotten, but the landmines
remain a rueful reminder of Chile’s murky military past.
"Chile
today is very different from then. Even at the time [the weapon] was used,
it was part of Chile’s defensive policy," said Undersecretary of
War Gabriel Gaspar. Gaspar insists the minefields are still safely fenced
off and marked, posing a danger only to daredevils. "If someone is
looking for high risk, they will find it," he said.
But
Soto, one of 26 reported cases of civilian landmine casualties in Chile,
takes offense at the government’s lack of concern and is suing for about
$800,000, the estimated cost of prostheses for his hands and the medical
costs of the accident, in which he also lost an eye and suffered burns.
"The state is supposed to be responsible for what happens to its
citizens," he said. Despite Defense Minister Mario Fernandez’s
personal promise to settle his case out of court, a disillusioned Soto
says he received "nothing but promises." Other landmine
survivors feel similarly abandoned. Elias Moscoso, a 15-year-old Aymara
Indian from a village in the Andean Highlands, lost part of his right hand
in 1996 after picking up a shiny object in the middle of the road. His
lawsuit against the state was thrown out of court.
Treaty
To End Government Secrecy
Calling
the information "reserved," government secrecy surrounding the
landmine problem means nobody really knows exactly how many mines there
are in Chile or where they are. The government has also resisted pressures
to demine the borders, arguing that its struggling economy cannot afford
the estimated $250 million cost. Many of the mines are plastic, making
detection by conventional metal detectors impossible, it says.
| But
that may change soon. May 3, the Chilean Congress ratified the
Ottawa Convention, coming a step closer to joining the 140 other
nations worldwide that have joined the 1997 pact. The treaty obliges
countries to clear their territory of all landmines, destroy
stockpiles and report to the United Nations secretary general the
total number, type and location of any remaining landmines. The
Defense Ministry says two local munitions factories churned out five
models in the 1970s and 1980s. One was an army facility and the
other was owned by Carlos Cardoen, an eccentric Chilean tycoon.
Cardoen figures in a U.S. Customs list, published on May 7, of the
ten most wanted fugitives in Latin America with a $500,000 reward
for information on his whereabouts.
The
U.S. Department of Justice’s Criminal Division issued a warrant
for Cardoen’s arrest in 1993 for the alleged illegal export of
U.S.-made zirconium and parts to make cluster bombs. The warrant
said Cardoen was a major supplier of cluster bombs to Saddam Hussein’s
regime in Iraq during the 1980s. Once the mine ban treaty goes into
effect for Chile, the government will have a maximum of 30 years to
clear their mine fields. Until then, Gustavo Soto’s advice is:
"watch your step." |
 |
| Protest
marches for land and better living conditions have been
carried out by Mapuche Indians in Chile’s capital. c/o AP |
|
Reprinted
courtesy of Reuters, copyright Reuters Limited 2001.
|