18 Sep Politics, Insurgency, and Counterinsurgency in Argentina, 1970–1973: The (Almost) Forgotten Period
By,
Fabián Calle, Senior Fellow, MSI²
Introduction
When addressing political violence in Argentina in past decades—and especially that which extended throughout the 1970s—it is common to view it as a clear example of messianic, “peopleless” terrorist violence by subversive armed organizations and of the existence of a methodical plan of state terrorism (readapting methodologies from the so-called “French method” applied in Vietnam and later in Algeria). To be sure, there are various arguments and grounds for that assertion to have support and wide circulation. Nevertheless, it would be worth undertaking a critical revision of that generalization and offering some tentative ideas for a deeper debate. We assume, of course, that this is a topic that still has—and will have for many years—a set of passions, ideological struggles, and crossed, irreconcilable positions. Likewise, there is no room to vindicate or surreptitiously relativize the abyss of violence and cruelty into which our nation fell almost four decades ago.
Although it is not among this paper’s objectives to provide a detailed, chronological description of the actions and confrontations that occurred in terms of political violence in Argentina from the late 1960s to the return of Peronism to power in 1973—and a few months later, of Perón himself—it is necessary to cite some fundamental test-case events:
- the so-called “Cordobazo” in 1969, which began to mark the beginning of the end for Onganía and his government “with objectives and without deadlines”;
- the kidnapping and assassination of General Aramburu (which in turn was another source of tension between the pro-Onganía and the pro-Lanusse camps) and the issuance in June of that same year of a decree establishing the death penalty for certain crimes;
- the murders of Alonso and Vandor;
- the attack on La Calera.
It should be recalled that General Lanusse himself would suffer, within his family circle and among his former collaborators, deaths at the hands of task forces of the Armed Forces (FF.AA.) during the National Reorganization Process established in 1976 (Lanusse, 1994). In this regard, during the Trials of the Military Juntas in 1985, once democracy had returned, former President Lanusse’s testimony was among the harshest and most forceful against his comrades in arms.
The Other ’70s
Faced with this escalation of violence, with forceful political objectives—as demonstrated by the cases of Aramburu, Alonso, and Vandor—General Lanusse stated in a speech in December 1970 that Argentina was at war due to terrorist actions, which were also a new form of armed conflict in which the key lay, and would continue to lie, in winning the hearts and minds of the people. In this sense, he warned that “the Army is in operations, but it will not resort to terrorism,” since “that would be a terrible error in political and moral terms.” A few months later, the then Army Chief would take charge of the Presidency of the Nation under a scheme of rotation every two years with the other branches of the Armed Forces. Simultaneously, from the Ministry of the Interior, Mor Roig promoted the so-called “Great National Accord” (GAN), based on the idea of the need for a four-year transition period before calling free elections. In that same year, 1971, the government would begin to activate talks and negotiations with Perón himself. At the same time, five subversive organizations operated in the country: two of Marxist orientation (ERP and FAL, the former being the most active) and three of Peronist orientation (Montoneros, FAP, and FAR).
In May 1971 one of the pillars of the counterinsurgency struggle was structured with the creation of a Federal Court with national jurisdiction over certain offenses specified in the Criminal and Military Justice Code (Potash, 1994). The National Criminal Chamber was composed of nine judges and three prosecutors and was in turn divided into three chambers (based in Buenos Aires). It offered court-appointed counsel to defendants; each party submitted a brief, witnesses, and experts; proceedings were oral and open to the public (with exceptions); and there was a time limit for the examining magistrate to prepare the charges and for the Chamber to issue its ruling (which was not subject to appeal). The specialist in Argentine military affairs, Robert Potash, praised its substantial effectiveness. Simultaneously—and returning to Max Manwaring’s line of argument—the Montoneros organization seemed to intelligently combine armed actions, recruitment among popular and student sectors, active grassroots social work, and the development of a discursive and ideological profile strongly linked to the return of democracy and of Perón. To that end, it counted on what this U.S. Army academic does not hesitate to define as an ideology and rhetoric more nationalist and populist than Marxist, and thus lacking systematic and massive support from the USSR and Cuba:
The Montoneros illustrate some important points regarding contemporary insurgency. First, they demonstrate the efficiency of mobilizing a mass support base within urban space. Second, they show that insurgents―either urban or rural-based―need not be Marxists or Maoists, or even religious fundamentalists. Populists and nationalists may also become major players on the insurgency stage. Third, the Montonero experience illustrates that once an insurgent movement achieves a certain momentum, its leadership is not likely to accept “peace” as a viable alternative to armed struggle (Manwaring, 2004).
In that same year, the Board of Commanders would issue a directive to the Armed Forces ordering a shift to the offensive in the fight against the guerrilla: (1) seize the initiative and destroy its political and administrative organizations, neutralize its elements, and regain the support of the population; (2) the Army would assume the central role in these actions. Almost simultaneously, Law 19,081 was approved, authorizing the Executive Branch to deploy the Armed Forces to combat subversion under the provisions of the Constitution during a state of siege. In this regard, civilians detained would remain under the jurisdiction of the courts. For its part, the Army General Staff recommended in a memo strengthening the role and capabilities of the police and lowering the profile of the military in counterinsurgency matters. From both the Ministry of the Interior and the Army itself, warnings were issued about the consequences this struggle would have for military institutions if there were systematic recourse to paramilitary and illegal groups. The watchword at the time, at least in the minds of decision-makers, was to avoid an uncontrolled escalation of violence that would end up alienating the military authorities from the citizenry and increasing supportive opinions or permissive indifference toward guerrilla actions.
The year 1972 would mark a new escalation with the assassination of General Sánchez and the kidnapping and subsequent death of the businessman Sallustro. In that same year, the paradigmatic Trelew case would occur, in which important subversive leaders managed to flee to Chile: Santucho, Osatinsky, Vaca Narvaja, Gorriarán Merlo, Menna, and Quieto. An almost perfect pincer movement further increased the growing impossibility of political dialogue between Peronism and the government.
What the Montoneros Were and Wanted to Be
As Gillespie—one of the leading specialists on the political and armed phenomenon represented by the Montoneros—argues, this organization became the most numerous and structured insurgent force in Latin America in the 1970s (Gillespie, 2008). This is complemented by—or perhaps partly explained by—their origins as basically neither Marxist-Leninist nor dependent on or aligned with Moscow and/or Cuba, as was generally the case with almost every self-respecting subversive group in the region since the 1960s. In other words, it is a fact that Montonero militants—especially after going underground in 1974—felt more comfortable or secure operating in Mexico, Venezuela, Paris, or Rome than in the Soviet bloc. Even in Cuba itself—both a refuge and the place where a substantial portion of the money obtained from the kidnapping of the Born brothers was deposited—relations were far from fluid and cooperative, as one might assume from a Manichean perspective. In this regard, broad sectors of the Cuban regime—though not so much those linked to the Armed Forces’ “special forces”—expressed their misgivings and distrust regarding the Peronist, Catholic, and in many cases quasi-fascist roots of several of the leading Montonero figures. To this must be added that, after the Argentine Military Junta came to power in March 1976, relations between that government and the Argentine Communist Party (PCA), closely linked to Moscow, were not a privileged target—far from it—of anti-subversive repression. Moreover, some of the most important communist leaders did not hesitate to describe the then de facto president, General R. Videla, as a “democratic general.” As if that were not enough, after the sanctions pushed by the United States in 1978 against the USSR for the invasion of Afghanistan, the Argentine Military Junta refused to join the embargo, which led to a strong increase in grain exports to the Soviet power. The then powerful Minister of Economy—and a key figure in the conservative-agrarian establishment—A. Martínez de Hoz, warned that “business goes one way and ideology another” (a phrase Chávez himself could use as a rhetorical umbrella for his oil exports to the United States…). In a context of poor relations between the Military Junta and President J. Carter’s administration over human rights violations, the Cuban regime refused to condemn Argentina in various international forums such as the United Nations. Argentine delegations returned the gesture in kind.
Returning now in greater detail to the ideological roots or systems of ideas of the Montoneros, there is no doubt that by the 1970s the Organization had become a synthesis and interweaving of nationalism, Catholic integralism (Bardini, 2002), Marxism-Leninism, Maoism, and Peronist populism. As we have seen throughout other parts of this essay, there are precedents of Peronist sectors with clear links to ideologies more akin to communism from the late 1950s and more concretely the early 1960s. The best-known case is that of J. W. Cooke and, later, figures such as R. Quieto, one of the founding fathers of the Montoneros. Even so—and without overlooking these leftist and liberation-theology influences—there is no doubt about the organization’s strong particularities. We should start from something fundamental and at the same time eloquent: its flag. Unlike the traditional revolutionary symbols in red, with five-pointed stars and the occasional AK worked into the design, it was a light-blue and white Argentine flag, with the center marked by a “federal star” (in Argentine symbology, a clear reminder of the conservative caudillos of the first half of the nineteenth century, and especially of an idol of Catholic-based Argentine nationalism such as General Juan Manuel de Rosas), crossed by the image of an FAL rifle (not an AK…) and a tacuara or lance (a traditional weapon of the federal “montoneras,” the open-field assault formations of the aforementioned federal caudillos in their fight against the “liberals,” the “savage unitarians,” and the “Frenchified,” as they were called at the time). The personal aesthetic of many historical Montonero leaders showed a military-style haircut—often a legacy of their time in military lyceums—hair gel or pomade, the absence of beards, and, on various occasions, the traditional black leather jacket. An image that, for some unsuspecting European tourist—especially Italian or Spanish—might suggest he was witnessing a neo-fascist or Falangist group. It is worth noting that in one of the last interviews granted by R. Galimberti—one of the top Montonero figures since the early 1970s—before his death in 2002, by then a businessman linked to the formerly kidnapped Born brothers (Larraquy & Caballero, 2000/2003) and involved in security ventures with former U.S. intelligence agents through the company “Universal Control,” the author of the piece noted how the former subversive always carried on his pants a keychain bearing a replica of the German Army’s “Iron Cross” from the First and Second World Wars (Página/12, 2002).
This hazy border between left and right that runs through the origins and development of the Montoneros harks back to interpretations by several books and specialists regarding their first major attack—namely, the kidnapping and assassination of General E. Aramburu in 1970. In this sense, the hypothesis has been recurrent of tactical and even strategic cooperation between some of the Montoneros’ leaders and founders and sectors more closely linked to the nationalist Catholic right within the Army’s intelligence services and civilian groups (Fraga & Pandolfi, 2005; Giussani, 1997). It should be remembered that Aramburu himself and Admiral Rojas were key figures in 1955 in the overthrow of Perón and, later, of General E. Lonardi. The latter was a faithful exponent of nationalist Catholic military groups who shared a substantial portion of certain social and foreign-policy agendas with Peronism. Lonardi’s motto of “neither victors nor vanquished” seemed compatible with the anger and spirit of revenge among civilian and uniformed groups of a liberal or conservative anti-Peronist bent.
Without delving into a field that requires a broader and more detailed study—and which is not the central topic of this essay—we should recall the political, ideological, and armed experience of Italian fascism during the interregnum of the “Republic of Salò” (1943–1945). It was a fascism that reclaimed—and in many cases radicalized—some of its original banners (1919–1922), which later had to be diluted so as not to be a source of fear for the economic establishment and the Italian monarchy. We refer to a rhetoric with a strong pro–working-class charge and with strong socializing or even socialist overtones. At this point, we should not forget Mussolini’s own socialist antecedents. In the case of Spanish Falangism, its influence in Argentina had a key moment in Perón’s rise as a key figure in the military government (1943–45) and in his first two presidencies (1946–1955), and in the adoption, among other things, of labor and union legislation strongly influenced by Falangist ideas from the 1920s and 1930s, as well as by the Italian fascists’ Carta del Lavoro.
As cited and developed in other sections of this paper, the political and social phenomenon of Peronism in Argentina from the first half of the 1940s radically weakened the possibility of the rise or advance of organizations and parties tied to communist and socialist—or social-democratic—matrices. This historical originality—possibly made viable by the country’s significant socioeconomic and productive development vis-à-vis the rest of Latin America at the time—is an inescapable factor for understanding and recognizing the basically non-Marxist and non-pro-Soviet character of the Montoneros organization.
In order to be fair to the reality of the facts, as Perón used to say—“the only truth is reality”—one should not overlook the dose of Marxist or left-wing influence that the Montoneros had. Authors such as P. H. Lewis highlight how later key figures in this organization—such as R. Quieto and M. Osatinsky—came from the Marxist left and had fluid contacts with Cuba. In this regard, the author recalls the January 1966 meeting in Cuba attended by figures of the Peronist resistance such as J. W. Cooke and the founders of what would later become the Montoneros, such as E. Maza, F. Abal Medina, N. Arrostito, and R. Quieto (Lewis, 2002). Later, in the early 1970s, a number of left-wing armed groups in Argentina would merge into (and be absorbed by) the Montoneros, all with the approval of Perón himself, who dubbed them “special formations.” This was not the case with the other major group in Argentina—albeit much more foco-oriented, elitist, and messianic—and of Trotskyist tendency, namely the ERP. The leaders of that armed group regarded the Montoneros as “Bonapartists” and “false revolutionaries.”
The Montoneros’ political and military structure left no doubt about the influence of military thinking and of “lyceum graduates” in its leadership: combat units were called “Commands” and had cells capable of combining to form larger units. Subsequently, groups of “militiamen” were formed, responsible for logistical and operational support tasks; they operated semi-clandestinely. Meanwhile, the organization’s legal-political apparatus was divided into eight regions. According to Lewis, estimates of the number of guerrillas who operated in Argentina range from a maximum of 20,000 to a minimum of 6,000, with ratios of 5:1 and even 10:1 between the Montoneros and the ERP. With regard to guerrilla armed activity between 1969 and 1970—the moment of their formal creation and public unveiling with the kidnapping and assassination of General Aramburu, a key figure in Perón’s 1955 overthrow—there was a sharp increase, from 100 cases to 400, then 600 in 1971, and 745 in 1972. Between 1969 and 1973 most guerrilla attacks were against property and, to a lesser extent, persons. That trend reversed sharply over 1973–76. It is estimated that in the period 1969–1975 subversion caused a total of 523 deaths, the vast majority of them military and police personnel.
A separate chapter in Lewis’s book is devoted to references to the period of General Lanusse as president and Army chief. He states that the application of the counterinsurgency program achieved many important captures—among others, the ERP leaders (Santucho and Gorriarán Merlo) and several Montonero leaders (Quieto, Osatinsky, Arrostito, Vaca Narvaja, etc.). Important figures of the irregular groups—such as Navarro, Olmedo, and Capuano Martínez—were also killed. During those years, there would have been a low number of disappearances. Many of these guerrillas were sent to the Trelew prison in southern Argentina, where 25 of them would escape to Allende’s Chile, and 16 would later be executed—a watershed event in the history of guerrilla and counter-guerrilla violence in Argentina. According to some analyses, hard anti-Peronist sectors sought to condition the negotiations that Lanusse’s envoys had been conducting with Perón since 1971 by means of these executions. While the counterinsurgency strategy of that period sought to weaken to the maximum the armed groups of the Peronist left and of the ERP, channels of dialogue were opened with orthodox Peronist unionists, who were also at odds with the guerrillas (recall the guerrillas’ assassinations of union leaders such as Vandor and Alonso in 1969 and 1970). For his part, Perón used the guerrillas to put pressure on—and improve—his negotiating space with the government. This support and the Peronist leader’s “hands-off” approach found their highest expression in the selection of J. J. Cámpora—a man with close ties to the Montoneros—as the Peronist presidential candidate for the elections in early 1973, and in the elevation of Galimberti as head of the powerful Peronist Youth (JP) (Bonasso, 1997). Cámpora would win with 49.5% of the vote, and on his inauguration day the Plaza de Mayo would be packed with large Montonero and JP columns. That same night, the release and subsequent amnesty of a large number of guerrillas detained in Villa Devoto took place.
By June 1973—and after Perón publicly reprimanded Galimberti for his reference to the need to replace the Armed Forces with “people’s militias,” and clear signs appeared of Perón’s loss of confidence in Cámpora, who would later resign the presidency and temporarily leave it in the hands of the Speaker of the Chamber of Deputies, R. Lastiri (son-in-law of the all-powerful J. López Rega)—the movement’s supreme leader returned to the country. At that very moment there was an exchange of fire between the security groups responding to J. Osinde and the Montoneros organization (Verbitsky, 1986). In September 1973 Perón would win the elections with more than 60% of the vote, and two days later Rucci would be assassinated. It was at that time that the AAA organization would begin to gain strength—or emerge more clearly. According to Lewis, figures as varied as J. López Rega, J. Osinde, M. Seineldín, and O. Paladino participated in the creation of this ultra-right parapolice group (Bonasso, 1997; Verbitsky, 1986; Larraquy, 2004).
“Black Feet” and Argentina: It Takes Two to Tango
The coup d’état that would formally end the “first Peronism” in 1955 led to the proscription of that party and the detention and exile of numerous members. It was in that scenario that the so-called “Peronist resistance” would develop, active in the years immediately following the fall of its leader. All this, it should be remembered, in a context not yet marked by the ideological and geopolitical effects of the 1959 Cuban Revolution and its corollary in the development of insurgent and counterinsurgent doctrines that would shape the ensuing decades. Not coincidentally, the Argentine Armed Forces would become a true vanguard in obtaining, translating, and adapting the counterrevolutionary and counterinsurgency manuals and writings emanating from France in the second half of the 1950s, in the context of the traumatic defeat in Vietnam and the war in Algeria. In this context, a few years after the 1955 coup, senior officers of the Argentine Army came into contact with material that recommended confronting insurgent processes and guerrilla violence in a stark and decisive manner. Therefore, between 1955 and 1959 the main risk factor or threat perceived by the Argentine military and politico-economic establishment was Peronist activity in the underground—not Marxist-Leninist-Guevarist activity. Only in the 1960s would this begin to change, with the focus shifting to the danger of the spillover of the Castro-Guevarist experience in Cuba and the much-discussed “communist domino effect.” Even so, the persistence of Peronism as a “veto player” between 1955 and 1973 would continue to occupy a prominent place in the attention and planning of internal security. By the 1960s—and even more so in the 1970s—conventional wisdom tended to blur the lines between the need to confront subversives of a Marxist bent and those of Peronist orientation or origin.
To specify the origins of counterinsurgency doctrine in Argentina a bit more, we can turn to the work of D. H. Mazzei (Mazzei, 2004). In a meticulous article, the author states that after Perón’s ouster in 1955 the new government forced the retirement of 500 officers and thousands of NCOs from the Armed Forces, especially the Army. At the same time, it began seeking to replace the “National Defense Doctrine” coined by Peronism since 1946—focused basically on national development and the people-Armed Forces relationship, with a clear emphasis on defending national territory against potential external aggression by other states. Post-1955 “liberal” and/or “conservative” sectors would become increasingly interested in the phenomenon of insurgency and counterinsurgency. In this scenario, French military influence in Argentina would be strengthened. The pivot of this change would be the Army’s Superior War College. Its traditional emphasis on historical studies and great battles would shift toward the issue of revolutions, guerrillas, and ways to counter them. A leading role in this shift was played by Colonel Carlos Jorge Rosas—a prestigious engineer officer and military attaché in France until 1955, i.e., one year after France’s defeat in Vietnam and at the dawn of the Algerian crisis.
It was in 1957—the year when Colonel Rosas and other officers interested in counterinsurgency became instructors at the Superior War College—that the famous “Battle of Algiers” unfolded, along with the unconventional role and methods of the French paratroopers (immortalized in the Italian film of the same name). That same year, a French military mission began activities at the College. Among some of the French officers, F. P. Badue, P. Jacobe de Nourois, and J. Nogués stand out. These French military men wrote numerous articles and essays in the College’s journal. Among the Argentine students were officers such as R. Camps and A. Vilas. Likewise, groups of Argentine officers—such as P. Tibiletti and C. Hure—attended training courses in counterinsurgency and revolutionary warfare in France and, more specifically, at Paris’s Superior War College. During the 1958 crisis in France and Algeria, some of these Argentine officers were authorized to travel to the then African colony as observers and assistants.
Lt. Col. M. Mom, upon his return to Argentina, wrote what could be considered one of the first true manuals against revolutionary warfare in this Southern Cone country, albeit largely inspired by works he had seen in France. It should be noted that Mom’s text, according to Mazzei, repeats the French post-Indochina trauma tendency to see communism and international Marxism behind—or as the puppeteer of—every group or revolutionary war. In 1962 the cycle of the French military mission at the College closed with an article by Colonel J. Nogués taking positive and optimistic stock of the work they had carried out in Argentina since 1957. In this regard, he declared himself satisfied with “the theoretical and practical advances” of the Argentine Army in the field. In that same period, the Army developed its first territorial organization based on “grid squares,” similar to that implemented by France in Algeria. The famous 1960 CONINTES Plan—intended to confront situations of internal commotion and especially Peronist and Marxist agitation—was largely nourished by these Franco-Argentine experiences. Also in 1962, then-Colonel Osiris Villegas would publish the classic Communist Revolutionary War and would become one of the leading hemispheric theorists on the subject.
Given all these antecedents and peculiarities, it is hardly illogical that the Montoneros organization prioritized and successfully developed its recruitment and mobilization of cadres and masses between 1970 and 1974, and avoided (or rather postponed) the traditional flaws of foco-ism and its elitist, militarist, and messianic tendencies—or the “bunker syndrome,” as notably analyzed by Della Porta, which recurred among subversive groups in Latin America and even Western Europe, especially in Italy and Germany in the 1970s (Della Porta, 1990; Gillespie, 2008). By “postponed,” we refer to the temporal threshold that emerged beginning in 1973, deepened in 1974—months before General Perón’s death during his third presidency—and would intensify even further after his death and the Montoneros’ passage into clandestinity. What explains the fact that a mass political, social, and armed organization—as the Montoneros proved to be—with particular strength between 1973 and 1974, and one that managed to place a man of their confidence, J. J. Cámpora, in the Presidency of the Nation, along with more than a dozen deputies and allied governors in key provinces such as Buenos Aires and Córdoba, should, over time, be reduced to a minimal expression and mired in all the syndromes described by the aforementioned Italian author? We should recall the strategic miscalculations that occurred—such as Galimberti’s famous statement after the Peronist victory in the 1973 elections regarding the need to replace the Armed Forces with “people’s militias,” and the subsequent—and still unclear—assassination of J. I. Rucci, the top leader of orthodox unionism and a trusted man of Perón. To this, other observers add the impact on Perón himself of large-scale guerrilla attacks (basically by the Marxist ERP group led by Santucho) of great cruelty and media impact—such as the attack on the Azul Regiment. A broader, systemic explanation, in our view, lies in the role that the Montoneros played in Perón’s post-1955 holistic and long-term strategy to condition Argentine political life and force his return—especially in the “rush” final stretch between 1969 and 1973. In the mind of the Peronist leader, the role of the Montoneros was to be the “teeth” and the “rage” of a broader, more sophisticated insurgent plan without clear ideologies—one that included flirtations and tactical or strategic pacts with figures linked to all kinds of Marxist left, nationalism, and even political parties and social sectors that had clearly been anti-Peronist and pro-1955 coup in their day. In the vision of a personalist, pragmatic leader who always saw himself first as a military leader and a soldier, those “teeth” were not to become the “brain and arms” of the movement. That “rage” of the “young and rebellious youth,” once the purpose of returning Peronism to power had been achieved, was to give way to more political, moderate, and centrist options. A review of the political and ideological ties of his private and personal secretary, J. López Rega—an ex-corporal of the Federal Police and a member of the P2 Masonic Lodge, with neo-fascist leanings—is clear evidence of the plurality and ideological rivalries and power projects that coexisted around the “Perón Returns.” Various testimonies attest to how the recordings—and to a lesser extent the films—sent by Perón from exile could be considered true insurgency manuals with broad objectives and not merely tactical and militarized ones—avoiding at all times falling into the foco-ist, excessively tactical and armed visions of Marxist insurgency manuals in Latin America, such as those of Che Guevara and Marighella.
Returning to the saying “tell me who you’re with and I’ll tell you who you are,” it should be remembered that the man chosen by Perón to direct the security apparatus for his eagerly awaited return to Argentina was Lt. Col. J. Osinde—a Peronist recognized for his orthodoxy and his anti-Montonero and anti-communist militancy. Nor should we forget the appointment, in the third Peronist government, of General O. Paladino to head the state intelligence services—another military man with a profile radically distant from the “socialist fatherland” and “if Evita lived, she’d be a Montonera,” to say nothing of Marxism-Leninism. Subsequent history shows us how the lethal AAA would emerge with the direct sponsorship of key figures in that very Justicialist government.
Conclusions
It goes without saying that we do not intend to equate the anti-guerrilla struggle of the early 1970s with the successful methods employed by mature democracies such as Italy and Germany in their fight against terrorism—or by Spain in weakening ETA’s armed structure—given that Argentina was then in a non-democratic period with only partial constitutional validity. Nevertheless, the differences are clear between the Argentine version of the “French method” that would clearly prevail from 1976 onward. Somewhere in the middle—and little explored—seems to lie the Argentine case in those years prior to Perón’s return.
Insurgent violence would extend throughout 1973, both before and after the elections that would result in Cámpora’s victory and, subsequently, General Perón’s. Between those two moments, in May, an amnesty would be granted to those accused of guerrilla activities. What would come next is better known and more widely discussed: Rucci’s assassination; the rise of the Triple A; Perón’s clash with the Montoneros; Perón’s own attempts to partially restore dialogue with them; the subsequent death of the undisputed Peronist leader; the government of Isabelita; the Montoneros’ shift to clandestinity; the ERP’s foco-ism in Tucumán; Operativo Independencia; the organization and preparation by the Armed Forces of what would be a division of tasks in the counterinsurgency struggle in the two years prior to the 1976 coup; the arrival of the National Reorganization Process; the application of a methodical plan to annihilate subversive activity; the strong internal struggles between the Army and the Navy—and within the Army itself; accusations from sectors of that force of a pact between Massera and Montonero groups from 1978–79; the failed Montonero counteroffensive; Argentine advisory roles in Central America in organizing the “Contras”; and the perception of having become Washington’s preferred ally beginning with the Reagan administration; the recovery of the Malvinas and the subsequent war; and, finally, the rupture-driven transition to Raúl Alfonsín’s democratic government. Perhaps this cascade of actions and tragedies can be understood a bit better by incorporating this period—also known, but clearly less debated and examined—proposed in this brief paper.
Max Manwaring (Manwaring, 2004) states in one of his essays that the Argentine case is a clear example of how not to conduct subversion and counter-subversion—warning that while the insurgents fell into a violent, foco-ist logic without popular bases, state repression resulted in a practice of state terrorism that failed to think strategically about the long-term consequences. Was that in fact the case? As we argued in the first paragraph, there is no doubt that this clearly explains what occurred in part of the period analyzed—but perhaps not all of it. What do we mean? Manwaring’s assertion clearly applies to a great extent to the armed activities of extremist Marxist far-left groups such as the ERP throughout their existence, and to the Montoneros organization—paradoxically—starting in the first months after Peronism’s return to power in 1973, and even more clearly in 1974 with the shift to clandestinity and the direct clash with the Justicialist administration in power until 1976. But what about Montonero activity between 1970 and 1973? A cursory review—as we have seen above—seems to show a strong concern with, and focus on, maintaining strong ties with popular sectors, social organizations, unions, etc.
As for anti-subversive repression, Manwaring’s maxim clearly applies to the period beginning in 1976—and even to the two preceding years, with a sharp increase in the activity of paramilitary organizations. It is not so clear, however, if one extends the view to 1970–1973. During those years, there is no evident existence of a methodical plan of state terrorism, and instead a recourse to extraordinary judicial measures that led to the detention and prosecution of hundreds (if not thousands) of people accused of subversive activities—among them numerous members of the ERP, FAR, and Montoneros leaderships. The reader will, of course, recall the counterexample of what happened in Trelew in 1972. Nevertheless, the shock that this event generated is itself an indication that the doctrine generally applied in those first three years of the decade was far from extrajudicial annihilation.
The scant press coverage, analysis, and debate concerning insurgency and counterinsurgency between 1970 and 1973 could be explained by the impact this period would have on the linear, nuance-free narratives that the “two sides” of the Dirty War constructed for themselves over the period beginning in 1976. Paradoxically, over the silence or omission regarding the years studied in this essay rests one of the few—if not the only—points of consensus among the protagonists of the Argentine tragedy.
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Fabián Calle. B.A. in Political Science, University of Buenos Aires; M.A. in International Relations, FLACSO; M.A. in International Relations, University of Bologna; Ph.D. candidate in History, Torcuato Di Tella University. Professor at the Catholic University of Argentina, Torcuato Di Tella University, University of Bologna, and Siglo 21 University.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Miami Strategic Intelligence Institute (MSI²).