In Argentina, COVID is pushing for a search for ‘stolen grandchildren’ sewn by Children’s Rights News

Buenos Aires, Argentina – When he grew up in the city of La Plata in the 1980s, he looked in the mirror at Leonardo Fossati and thought that reality was on the other side.

It was a game made by little boys. He felt like he was living in a movie and couldn’t see anything in his life. A few years later, he would understand the game much more: among other things, he indicated that his story had something more to it.

In fact, his story was completely different. The people who grew up were not his biological parents and in 2005 a DNA test said he was the same Grandchildren stolen from Argentina: From 1976 to 1983, the country was terrified of children born in captivity during the military dictatorship and given to other families to raise.

His parents, Ines Beatriz Ortega and Rubén Leonardo Fossati, are among the approximately 30,000 people who were missing by the security forces at that time and never recovered.

“Even if it’s hard, the truth always creates a solid foundation for continuing with your life,” he said.

It is true that Fossa and others like her know the truth thanks to the May Grandparents, the grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo, who challenged the thin silence of Argentina during the dictatorship and marched weekly. what happened to their missing children and grandchildren.

To date, the identities of 130 people have been recovered through DNA testing. But the search continues for about 300 more, and he is trying to make a new campaign exercise COVID-19 vaccines to assist in this task.

‘Help us find you’

Abuelas urges people to vaccinate with their 40-year-old grandchildren in Argentina post photos of their coups on social media With the hashtag #UnaDosisDeIdentidad (One Dose of Identity).

Along with the messages is a text asking anyone born between 1975 and 1980 who has any doubts about their identity to approach the organization, as new ways of keeping the search alive are constantly being raised.

“We saw it as an opportunity, in the short term, because the grandchildren we are looking for will pay attention because they are being vaccinated,” said Belen Altamiranda Taranto, the 88th identified grandchild, now working with Abuelas de Plaza in the city of Mayo Cordoba.

This year, the government has also launched a campaign aimed at Argentines living abroad, “Argentina Te Busca” – Argentina is looking for you. Several people have found their true identities as adults when they went abroad to the Netherlands, the United States, and Spain. Others were found in smaller ones in Chile and Uruguay.

“Help us find you,” Foreign Minister Felipe Sola said in a video message contacting people to ask questions of an Argentine consulate.

Dictatorships of cruelty

The fact that so many grandchildren are left untold speaks of the pact of silence that remains between those who committed cruelty.

Aiming to eradicate left-wing rebels, the security forces launched a wide-ranging state terrorism campaign that wiped out political dissidents, students, activists, union campaigns, journalists and many more.

People were taken out of the street, tortured, killed, shot down in the lower river or buried in unmarked graves during the dictatorship. When they disappeared, young pregnant women gave birth in clandestine detention centers and placed their babies in the homes of families who supported the military or with others who did not question the origin of the children.

They were not isolated incidents, but a systematic plan of child possession that was a crime against humanity, as the Argentine court found in 2012, more than 1,000 people have been convicted for their role in that dark time.

Destroying generations

Initiatives such as the Una Dosis campaign offer a touch of hope to 41-year-old Anna Carriquiriborde, whose aunt Gabriela Carriquiriborde disappeared in La Plata in 1976. Her family is looking for a baby born in captivity in December of her year.

Witnesses say the baby was a boy, Carriquiribord said, although the woman, who is now believed to be Gabriel’s daughter, is awaiting the results of a DNA test. Two other friends also suspected she was Gabriel’s child, but they denied it.

“Of course, I am eager to meet my cousin,” said Carriquiribord, who lives in La Plata but was born and raised in Sweden, which has given political asylum to parents who fled the dictatorship. “We talk all the time in the family. Finding closure in this story would bring us great happiness. “

He said the discovery would be especially important for his father; Like her late sister, she was a member of the Juventud Universitaria Peronista, a university wing of the Peronist political party, and she feels guilty for what happened to her.

“I think it’s very damaging, and being held captive to get rid of children,” Carriquiribord said. “Our aunt was our present and our future was also taken away from us. The military dictatorship destroyed many generations. “

Women take a selfie next to photographs of those who disappeared during the 1976-1983 military dictatorship in Argentina, in front of the Casa Rosada Presidential Palace in Buenos Aires in 2017 [Marcos Brindicci/Reuters]

It has taken years to create collective consciousness about what happened, and if it’s something that works against the search, it’s time.

“There are very few grandmothers left,” Taranto said. “They are very old and it is a feeling of sadness and great helplessness to see us leave without being able to find the bodies of grandchildren or children.”

‘Sense of Freedom’

Taranto and Fossati, both 44, described the feeling of empowerment when they were able to find out who they really were.

Taranto met both sets of grandparents before he died. “It’s not a cliché, but you feel a sense of freedom – I’m free to do what I want to do with my story,” said Taranto, whose late parents were Cristian Adrian and Natalia Vanesa, members of the Workers ’Revolutionary Party.

In Fossati’s case, his mother was a member of the Unión Estudiantil Secundaria and his father a member of the Juventud Universitaria Peronista.

The couple who grew up had no ties to the military. In 1977, one day, they received a call from a local midwife saying that she had a baby and needed a house. Fossati invented on his own that he was not their biological child and sought answers after becoming a father.

“What happened to me was not an adoption, but an adaptation,” he said.

Now La Plata runs a memorial space from a former clandestine detention center where his parents were held captive. He was also born.

“I’ve come to know that skin color, eye color, or height don’t just inherit from your genes,” said Fossati, who almost named Leonardo his child when he found out he took her name a year later. named by his mother. “Other things are transmitted during pregnancy.”

He added that the doubts are also inherited, so he asked anyone who could catch them to look for answers. “Time passes quickly, it’s worth overcoming fears,” he said. “And it’s your right to know your identity.”

Anyone with doubts about their identity can contact Plaza Abuelas in May website.