Geopolitics of Film: The Case of The Battle of Chile
- Eleonore Dlugosz Donnen
- 37 minutes ago
- 6 min read
Eyes on Chilean Cinema
Por la razón o la fuerza.
By reason or by force.
This proverb is Chile's national motto, reflecting the Chilean republic's desire to assert its right to exist in the face of the colonising powers of the 19th century. Chile shall defend its rights through diplomacy and reason, and if necessary, Chile shall take up arms if it feels threatened. Unfortunately, this motto can be used to portray how General Augusto Pinochet staged a coup d’état and seized power, by force. They arrested and tortured people,he imposed censorship and hunted down journalists and media outlets that opposed his regime, all by force. Decree Law 679 established censorship, giving the state the power to reject any cinematographic work deemed too extreme or contrary to the foundations of the nation, especially for all works referring to Marxist doctrine. Cultural production is therefore controlled, if not erased.
Yet despite this censorship, one film slipped through the net. A film, or rather a triptych of films. The Battle of Chile: The Struggle of a People Without Arms, consisted of three parts released in 1975, 1976 and 1979, during the painful years of the dictatorship. The Chilean public was unable to access these three chef d’oeuvres because The Battle of Chile was one of the thousands of films banned during the Pinochet regime. Only parts of it were able to circulate clandestinely on VHS or Betamax.
Guzman’s Lens
Patricio Guzman found himself imprisoned in Santiago National Stadium for fifteen days. The first glimpse of what is about to be one of Chile's darkest years. After being imprisoned, Guzman was exiled to Cuba and then Europe. However, his work continued, and his team began sending him footage with the support of Gaston Ancelovici and the Swedish embassy in order to avoid detection by the military, who would likely have have tried to destroy the rare images taken by Guzman. Although most of his team subsequently went into exile, one name remains etched in people's memories: Jorge Muller Silva, the cameraman. A militant member of the revolutionary left movement, he was arrested by the junta and was never seen again. At the beginning of each of his films, Guzman pays tribute to the memory of his cameraman, as he does in interviews:
“Jorge Müller Silva, my cameraman for The Battle of Chile. He died, he was murdered. He was taken prisoner with his wife and he was shot dead, executed, and we don’t know where he was buried.”
Volume I: The Insurrection of the Bourgeoisie (1975)
The Battle of Chile consists of three parts. The first begins in 1973, and you will see nothing of the dictatorship, but rather the causes of the coup d'état. The first part opens with the bombing of La Moneda, the presidential palace, it entirely focuses on the congressional elections that are taking place and revolves around Chileans and their voting intentions. Salvador Allende was already in power and launched numerous reforms, notably the nationalization of industries. Foreign and domestic opposition is strongly felt, and tensions between left-wing workers and right-wing Chileans, especially those in the wealthy sector are growing. While the title may be misleading, it is telling the truth: the bourgeoisie are rising up and will demonstrate and revolt against Allende and his Marxist reforms. This is not an oxymoron but one of the causes of the coup d'état: Chileans are divided. This entire section focuses on Chileans and their discourse. All of them are interviewed in close-up shots, bringing viewers very close to the subjects, face to face with them. All political factions are represented in all their forms, in the streets, in their homes, in their cars: fascists, supporters of the opposition, from the Unidad Popular or from the Christian Democrats. The film truly highlights the Chilean discontent that would lead to the coup d'état and the tragic fate of Chile that is resembled today.
Volume II: The Coup d’état (1976)
This second part moves on to documenting the direct escalation towards civil war, between economic sabotage and strikes that destabilized the government, they ultimately led to the armed forces seizing power. Disagreement is evident even within Allende's camp, where various factions disagree on how to protect Unidad Popular, and even the middle classes begin to turn against Allende. Political speeches such as Allende's, immersions within councils, aerial shots, bombings of La Moneda, and even filming in a church during mass.
This second volume is like a Trojan horse: you, the viewer, are inside the horse, and Guzman is Ulysses. Through his film, he allows you to see and enter Santiago like you could enter the Trojan city, to observe everything about the Chileans and the political dynamics that haunt the city during all these tensions until the fateful moment, the coup d'état, shown in detail in the last 10 minutes.
The second volume concludes with videos of the military junta at work, carrying out the devastating orders of a dictatorship that is taking shape. A white screen appears and, in black ink, you can read the last words of Salvador Allende's final speech before his death.
« Tienen la fuerza podrán avasallarnos pero no se detienen los procesos sociales ni con el crimen ni con la fuerza. »
They have the strength, they may crush us, but social processes do not stop, neither with crime not with force.
Volume III: Popular Power (1979)
While the first and second parts of Battle of Chile seem to follow each other perfectly in chronological order, the third part, on the other hand, goes back to the past and returns to the period before the coup d'état. This time, it focuses on the popular workers' organizations that attempted to counter the famous bourgeoisie insurrection described in the first volume. This is the first volume, but this time seen through the prism of popular resistance supported by workers' coordination networks and neighborhood assemblies. There are more interviews and questions with workers, who are doing their utmost to fill the gaps caused by the strikes. This part is very immersive, between the factories and the working-class neighborhoods with their queues for food, those meetings in cramped rooms.
This last volume creates an extremely strong human dimension with those close-ups that portray faces marked by exhaustion and hope capturing the endurance of the workers. Revealing at the same time its duality with the first volume. As a matter of fact, I found this trilogy to be a mirror:
Volume I, reflection of the bourgeoisie
Volume III, reflection of the workers
Volume II, the breaking glass between them
Volume I captures the fears and the tensions of Chilean upper and middle classes regarding the desire to keep the status quo and maintain their privileges, feeling threatened by Allende’s reforms. Volume III, its counterpart, turns to the other side looking more at the popular movements portraying their resilience and the need to organize resistance against the repression. Between those two reflections the common ground, the coup d’état that will shatter both parts regardless of their divisions. The camera positions the viewer inside making the fracture between classes inevitable, therefore the choice of order between the volume. Between Volume I and Volume III, the breaking glass: Volume II.
Beyond the Frame, the Unseen
“What was filmed are the visible facts, we can’t film the invisible—torture, interrogation, prison—there’s no footage of this. There’s no footage of prisoners sitting on the floor waiting to be tortured. Maybe there is, and it’s in the hands of the army—it’s probable. But publicly, no: you enter the jail, and bam, the door closes. And the camera doesn’t go beyond there.”
As you will have understood, The Battle of Chile does not comment on the dictatorship, torture or censorship, but rather on the events that followed Pinochet's rule. As Guzman says, it is almost impossible to find footage of the violence that was committed. Guzman focuses on the causes that led to the coup d'état, namely the internal tensions within Chile. It was a remarkable feat for Guzman and his team, who were able to film all these events and narratives with a handheld camera, capturing the final days of a republic. This black-and-white cinematic triptych has the same effect as Guzman describes in his interview when he reflects on Chileans' reaction to The Battle of Chile:
“Chileans get very emotional with The Battle of Chile—they start to cry. There are people who get kind of paralysed because they didn’t know that this much was filmed.”
The Battle of Chile does not only serve as a historical document but as an act of restoration of the memory. Made in exile, this film observes the slow collapse of Allende’s government; it helps the spectator to not only look at the aftermath of the coup d’état but at its roots. The clash of classes, those ideological fractures that made the coup possible. The Battle of Chile restored to Chilean people a part of themselves that was forgotten and Guzman keeps this memory unyielding with his triptych.
You can watch those three works on YouTube with English subtitles.
