It was fitting that the funeral of Gladys Marín Millie was held March 8, 2005, International Women’s Day. Marín, who died of cancer on March 6, was the president of the Communist Party of Chile (PC) and an ardent defender of human rights. She was the youngest person ever elected to the Chilean Congress, the first woman to run for the country’s presidency and the only female leader of a Chilean political party. Gladys’ life was marked by her indefatigable and unfaltering struggle for justice and human rights in her native Chile and throughout Latin America.
She was born in 1941 into a humble family in the south of Chile. At the age of 11, she moved by herself to Santiago to continue her studies. While in high school she began to participate in organizations fighting for the rights of poor Chileans. She began her struggle in Acción Católica (Catholic Action) in the small city of Talagante and continued in the Juventud Obrera Católica (Young Catholic Workers) once she arrived in Santiago. She joined the Juventudes Comunistas (Communist Youth) in 1958 and quickly became a leader of the organization. During that period, she became familiar with Salvador Allende, whose political vision would guide her life. At the age of 23, she won a seat in the lower house of the Chilean Congress where she served nine years as a deputy for the northern Santiago district.
She was serving in Congress when the Allende government was overthrown in a U.S.-sponsored military coup on Tuesday, September 11, 1973. Eventually, she had to flee the country, leaving her husband and children behind. While she was living in exile, Chile’s secret police arrested and disappeared her husband, Jorge Muñoz, along with many other leaders of the PC. Gladys decided that despite the risk, she had to return to Chile and fight for the return of democracy. She lived clandestinely for over 12 years in her own country, changing her appearance and constantly moving. During those years she was frequently near her two young sons, but she never allowed herself to interact with them.
The night of her death, thousands of people flowed into the streets of Chile’s poblaciones (shantytowns) to light candles, reminisce and honor her memory. Thousands waited up to eight hours in line to pay their last respects at the building that had housed Chile’s Congress before the military dictatorship abolished the legislature in 1973. The lines continued for two more days as more and more people made their way to the ex-Congreso to say goodbye and thank you.
In the streets of La Pincoya, a Santiago shantytown in her congressional district, people poured into Avenida Recoleta, the main thoroughfare, to participate in the lighting of candles. The shantytown residents shared their memories of Gladys, a woman who defended the human rights of all people with a special emphasis on people like themselves—people living in poverty. That night, and the days that followed, conversations centered on the legacy of Gladys. Many of the mourners were not members of the PC, but ordinary people who appreciated Gladys’ commitment to them. On overcrowded buses, in taxis and on street corners, Chileans talked about her fight, her resilience and her courage. They recognized that her valor and struggle were not limited to the time of the military regime, but preceded it and outlasted the rule of Augusto Pinochet.
In January 1998, Gladys became the first person in Chile to make an official accusation in Chile’s Supreme Court against Gen. Pinochet. At the time, he was still the commander of the Armed Forces and would become a lifetime Senator a few months later. This heroic act opened the door for hundreds of other family members to come forward and accuse Pinochet and his allies in the courts.
Women, especially, felt a bond with Gladys. Her willingness to take risks and to fight for the rights of all was a clear example to women throughout Chile that they too could be active participants for change. Poor women identified with Gladys as mothers, as community members and as survivors; they felt her pain over her separation from her two sons during the military regime; they felt her joy when she ran for the presidency of this sexist country; they identified with her struggle for every family to have food on the table, a roof over their heads and jobs with a living wage. In the streets of Santiago, and I imagine throughout Chile, women talked about Gladys as an example and a role model for themselves and future generations.
As flags flew half-mast throughout the country, even at military barracks, politicians and leaders from across the political spectrum showered accolades on Gladys upon her death. Even politicians on the right had to admit that Chile lost a leader with a commitment to the people. Sebastián Piñera of the right-wing National Renovation party and a supporter of the Pinochet regime said, “We have lost someone important in Chilean politics because she always fought for grand causes, freedom, democracy and justice.”
But those who continue the struggle for human rights and social justice had the strongest, most moving presence in the commemoration and celebration of Gladys’ life. James Garay, president of a national gay rights organization, commented, “Gladys was one of the few persons who fought for us, putting herself out front. She never discriminated against us and for that reason we are here today to accompany her.” And José Santos Millao, a Mapuche leader from the south of Chile, said, “We traveled all night long in order to pay tribute in this sincere and thankful act because of all that she did in honor of poor and oppressed people, groups in which we, the Mapuche people, find ourselves.”
Close to one million people lined the streets of Santiago to accompany the funeral procession from the ex-Congreso to the General Cemetery. It was obvious that this woman was an honored figure and meant a great deal to an enormous number of people. Mourners waved flags from many political parties and organizations as they marched in the overcrowded streets. There were flags representing the Left Revolutionary Movement (MIR), the Christian Left, the Sexual Diversity Movement, Mapuches, Los de Abajo (a soccer fan club), anarchists and, of course, the flag of her beloved PC. The energy and enthusiasm for the life and commitment of this woman was felt and shared by the masses of people gathered to celebrate and honor her memory.
In death, Gladys was able to bring people together under a dream of a new Chile based on respect for human rights and social and economic justice. Gladys’ commitment, along with her legacy as a courageous and coherent social activist, deeply touched and moved people throughout Chile. The challenge for the Chilean left is to harness the energy and commitment demonstrated at Gladys Marín’s funeral and convert this public outpouring into a movement for change and transformation.
About the Author
Rosemary Barbera is a social worker and professor who lived in Chile in the late 1980s and early 1990s. She continues her work in Chile with family members of the disappeared and the Junta de Vecinos en La Pincoya.
