Chile ’73 | USA ’24

I will be frank, I don’t understand the nature of this site. My daughter was discussing a story that she had written on here and exclaimed that it was some type of forum for the masses. I am uncertain of the audience nor its breadth but I would be remiss if I did not do whatever I could at this critical point in time to make my point abundantly clear – we are witnessing the erosion of our democracy.

I have spent most of my life as a fairly neutral person when it comes to US politics; it was simply a topic that was of little interest to me. Their messaging and ideology might have been diametrically opposed, but the players always seemed cut from the same cloth. Maybe it is similar complacency that got us here, maybe it was a system with inherent vulnerabilities – I will defer to those more knowledgeable than myself to sort that out.

We are 126 days, at least from the time of writing this, from the Presidential election, and I wish my message on this digital soapbox was to fight like hell. But it is not. I’m no vegan but even I have an issue with beating a dead horse. I want to tell my family that in the next four months we need to pack our things and run like hell. But we will not be doing that either. This is my home as much as anyone else’s, and the cultists do not get to take that away from me. But I don’t know where that leaves us. Our Supreme Court has entered the incredibly profitable business of creating de facto emperors. If I have to listen to one more “expert” say that the SCOTUS granted Trump immunity one more time, I cannot be held accountable for my actions. Correct me if I’m wrong, as this is not my field, but their ruling didn’t say “Donald Trump is immune from prosecution”, it said “Presidents are immune…”. All presidents. Past, present, and future. This isn’t a Trump problem, dumbasses, this is an existential one.

I cannot offer solutions, I am far too weary to join the rallying cry, but I can give you this: one final plea. Please, for the love of all that is good, learn from the lessons of the past. Study them closely and with great scrutiny. History is not so distant and the United States is not so exceptional. And that is what I would like to use this space to discuss: Chile in the early 1970s, where a democracy once thought vibrant and progressive crumbled into authoritarianism. Theirs was a story as old as time, not remotely unique to them. The parallels are striking, and the lessons, I fear, are more relevant than ever.

The year was 1970, and Chile stood as a beacon of democracy in South America. For nearly half a century, power had peacefully transferred between parties through free and fair elections, a rarity in a region often plagued by military coups and authoritarian regimes. The Chilean armed forces, unlike their counterparts in neighboring countries, had largely respected civilian authority since the 1930s. This longstanding tradition of military non-intervention in politics was a source of national pride.

Chile’s democratic institutions seemed robust: a free press thrived, civil liberties were generally respected, and the rule of law prevailed. The country had weathered economic challenges and social upheavals without resorting to authoritarian measures. To many observers, both domestic and international, Chile appeared to be an unshakeable bastion of democratic stability in Latin America.

This image of Chile as an exception to the regional norm of political instability was so entrenched that few could have predicted the turmoil that lay ahead. The country’s democratic foundations, though tested by ideological polarization and economic pressures, had always held firm.

Does this narrative of a seemingly unassailable democracy on the brink of unforeseen crisis sound eerily familiar? As we reflect on our own political landscape, it’s worth considering how quickly the unthinkable can become reality when democratic norms are eroded and political polarization reaches a fever pitch.

But beneath the surface of Chile’s democratic veneer, deep tensions simmered. The 1970 election laid bare the country’s ideological fractures. Salvador Allende, a committed socialist and longtime political figure, won the presidency with just 36% of the vote in a tightly contested three-way race. This plurality victory, while constitutionally valid, left nearly two-thirds of the electorate feeling unrepresented.

Allende’s triumph sent shockwaves through Chile’s political establishment and corporate circles. His platform of radical economic reforms, including nationalization of key industries and land redistribution, alarmed both domestic elites and foreign investors, particularly U.S. interests. The specter of a democratically elected Marxist president in the midst of the Cold War era heightened tensions dramatically.

The reaction was swift and polarizing. Allende’s supporters saw his victory as a mandate for sweeping social change, while his opponents viewed it as an existential threat to Chile’s economic and social order. The stage was set for a period of intense political struggle, with both sides viewing compromise as tantamount to surrender.

This scenario of a deeply divided electorate, a president elected without a majority, and a political class unwilling to find common ground – does it strike a chord with our current situation? The parallels to recent elections and their aftermath in our own country are hard to ignore, as we grapple with similar challenges to democratic consensus and the peaceful transfer of power.

What followed Allende’s election was a gradual but relentless erosion of democratic norms and institutions. Allende’s opponents, including conservative politicians, business elites, and elements of the military, began a concerted effort to undermine his government at every turn. This opposition was bolstered by foreign interests, particularly the United States government and its intelligence agencies (yes, the CIA’s involvement is well-documented), who viewed Allende’s socialist policies as a threat to their geopolitical interests in the region.

The tactics employed were multifaceted and insidious. A widespread disinformation campaign was launched, flooding the country with propaganda that exaggerated the threat of communism. Allende was portrayed not just as a misguided politician, but as an existential threat to Chilean society, culture, and way of life. Economic sabotage was another tool, with both domestic and foreign actors working to create artificial shortages and economic instability.

The media landscape became a fierce battleground. Conservative newspapers and radio stations, often backed by wealthy owners and foreign funding, relentlessly attacked Allende’s policies and character. Meanwhile, left-leaning outlets defended the government and accused the opposition of treasonous behavior. This polarization of information sources left many Chileans struggling to discern fact from fiction, with each side accusing the other of lies, manipulation, and serving hidden agendas.

The echoes of this scenario in our current political climate are unmistakable. The weaponization of media, the spread of misinformation, the demonization of political opponents, and the influence of powerful interests in shaping public opinion – all these elements are disturbingly familiar in our own recent history. As we witness similar tactics being employed in our political discourse, it’s crucial to recognize the dangerous path they led Chile down and consider where they might be leading us.

The parallels between Chile’s past and our present are undeniable and deeply troubling. Project 2025 represents a concerted effort to reshape our government in ways that could fundamentally alter the balance of power. Much like the gradual erosion of democratic norms in Chile, this initiative could chip away at the foundations of our democratic institutions under the guise of efficiency and accountability.

Consider the implications: A dramatically expanded executive power could lead to a president with near-autocratic control. The reduction of federal agency autonomy might render crucial regulatory bodies toothless against corporate interests or political pressure. A reshaped judiciary could result in decades of decisions that prioritize a specific ideological agenda over impartial interpretation of the law.

These changes, if implemented, wouldn’t just affect one election cycle or one administration. They would fundamentally alter the structure of our government for generations to come. It’s a playbook we’ve seen before, not just in Chile, but in numerous democracies that have slid into authoritarianism.

But here’s where our story can diverge from Chile’s. We have the benefit of hindsight, the lessons of history to guide us. We’re not powerless in the face of these challenges. Our democracy, while under strain, still functions. We still have free speech, free press, and the right to vote. These are powerful tools if we choose to use them.

So what can we do? First and foremost, stay informed. Don’t just read headlines or social media posts. Dig deeper. Seek out reputable sources from across the political spectrum. Understand the nuances of these issues and their potential long-term impacts.

Secondly, engage in civil discourse. Talk to people who disagree with you, not to convert them, but to understand them. Remember that most of us want what’s best for our country, even if we disagree on how to achieve it. By finding common ground, we can start to bridge the divides that threaten to tear us apart.

Third, participate in the democratic process at all levels. Vote in every election, not just the presidential ones. Local and state elections often have a more direct impact on your daily life. Attend town halls, write to your representatives, join or support organizations that align with your values.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, defend democratic norms and institutions, even when it’s inconvenient for your “side.” The rule of law, free and fair elections, peaceful transfer of power – these aren’t partisan issues. They’re the bedrock of our democracy, and they need defenders from across the political spectrum.

The road ahead isn’t easy. It requires constant vigilance, active participation, and a willingness to put country over party. But the alternative – the slow slide into authoritarianism that Chile experienced – is far worse.

As I sit here, typing these words to an audience I can’t see, I’m reminded of a quote often attributed to Benjamin Franklin. When asked what kind of government the Constitutional Convention had created, he allegedly replied, “A republic, if you can keep it.” That’s the challenge before us now. Can we keep it? Can we nurture and protect this fragile experiment in self-governance?

I believe we can. But it will take all of us, working together, standing up for the principles that have guided this nation for nearly 250 years. The choice is ours. Let’s not look back on these days with regret, wondering why we didn’t do more when we had the chance. Instead, let’s rise to the occasion, fight for our democracy, and ensure that the United States remains a beacon of freedom and hope for generations to come.

The stakes couldn’t be higher. The time to act is now. Our democracy is counting on us.