Este proyecto ha sido en gran parte uno de investigación. A principios de 2022 comencé a leer la materia primaria que utilizo en la instalación: diarios de trinchera de la Guerra de la Triple Alianza, acompañados de la literatura erudita sobre éstos escrita en las últimas décadas. A la par, comencé un archivo de capturas de pantallas de distintos medios de prensa y medios sociales de años recientes. En ambos casos examiné los textos para encontrar alusiones a la relación del estado nación paraguayo, por un lado, con sus vecinos Brasil y Argentina, ya que mantengo que Paraguay es un estado vasallo de Brasil, principalmente, y de Argentina en un distante plano. Y por otro lado, la relación del estado nación con particulares grupos sociales de su ciudadanía. Aristas que empleé para distinguir grupos sociales son: género, edad, racialización, sexualidad, clase y religión. A partir de esto creé una gran acumulación de imágenes, textos, mapas e información.
Aclaro que el proyecto no es sobre la Guerra, aunque este tema permanece relevante por la manera en que se utiliza no solo en política y diplomacia paraguaya, sino también desde sectores culturales como la Secretaría Nacional de Cultura, que promueve proyectos y competencias como éstos, que perpetúan la glorificación bélica ultra nacionalista y militarista, y de la figura del Mariscal en particular.
El proyecto tampoco trata simplemente una gran acumulación investigativa de informaciones, sino que intenta identificar e ilustrar patrones históricos de comportamiento dentro de ella. ¿Cuáles han sido las dinámicas de relación entre el estado nación paraguayo con demográficas vulnerables y marginalizadas? ¿Cuáles han sido los dispositivos de contacto y control?
Durante mi estadía en la residencia de arte Art Omi en Junio/Julio 2022, en una conversación con una curadora especializada en temas de guerra y género, Monika Fabjianska, ella me preguntó si mi proyecto trata el estado fallido. En el momento contesté que sí, pero luego mi mente retornó una y otra vez a esta respuesta. Tardíamente me di cuenta de que lo que me molesta del término estado fallido en este contexto es que implica que hubo una original intención que fracasó. Al contrario, a través de mi trabajo he llegado a la teoría de que la relación del estado paraguayo con la ciudadanía ha sido cultivada. La violencia, la instrumentalización, la polarización y la desinformación han sido claves para mantener a la ciudadanía en un constante estado de crisis y al estado nación, en sus distintas iteraciones, en un determinado sitio de autoridad y poder.
Este proyecto ofrece un sinfín de posibilidades de materialización. He empezado a construir un mapa mental, con la intención de que sea móvil para poder acomodar nuevas informaciones y nuevas reconstrucciones. Inclusive pudiera entregar el mapa a otras personas, con otras perspectivas, para que ellas formen nuevas conexiones. He comenzado por una esquina dentro de esta constelación: el estado nación y género - específicamente, niñas.
Referencias a mujeres son relativamente comunes en los diarios de trinchera, especialmente en El Centinela y Cabichui. Menos comunes son referencias a niñas y adolescentes. Ejemplo: un artículo de El Centinela del 11 de Setiembre de 1867, publicado pocos días después de que las mujeres patricias de Asunción entreguen sus joyas y alhajas en beneficio de la causa bélica: aplaude el discurso de una niña huérfana de 7 años que declara desear contribuir con sus brazos vengar la muerte de su padre, que muere en la guerra, y contribuir a la causa bélica en defensa de la libertad.
Lo primero que viene a la mente es la pregunta, ¿qué niña de siete años habla así? ¿Habrá repetido un discurso que le dieron en antemano? ¿Sucedió esto realmente? Suspendiendo nuestra incredulidad sobre la veracidad de este acontecimiento, podemos abordar otro ángulo de análisis sobre esta historia. La trágica situación de una huérfana en plena guerra es instrumentalizada para crear una narrativa de heroísmo y patriotismo. Inclusive niñas de siete años pueden servir a la Patria y avanzar sus intereses bélicos. Esto lo vemos con aún más intensidad en la Batalla de Acosta Nu, la batalla de los niños soldados, de 1869.
El artículo sobre la huérfana de siete años la traigo frente a frente con el asesinato de las niñas Lilian y María del Carmen Villalba, de once años, en Yby Yaú por Fuerzas Armadas del Paraguay en el 2020. Hago un colapso de la historia para evidenciar ecos de una misma temática. En el segundo caso, el estado también intenta instrumentalizar a las niñas. El 2 de Setiembre del 2020 Presidente Marito Abdo comparte el siguiente tweet:
"Hemos tenido un operativo exitoso en contra del EPP. Luego de un enfrentamiento, dos integrantes de este grupo armado han sido abatidos. Hay un oficial herido. A todo el equipo le ratifiqué mi agradecimiento por su valentía en la lucha contra este grupo criminal."
El Presidente, mediante este primer tweet sobre lo acontecido, lo presenta de manera radicalmente distinta a los hechos reales. Aún después de la crisis a nivel nacional que explota cuando el encubrimiento se desmorona y la edad e identidades de las niñas salen a luz, el estado se mantiene firme en su posición de enemistad, aunque variando los argumentos: las niñas estaban armadas, las niñas dispararon primero, los agentes de la FTC actuaron en defensa personal, la culpa era de los padres de las niñas por ponerlas en ese lugar, etc. Lilian y María del Carmen Villalba fueron representadas por el estado como el antítesis a la huérfana de siete años. Unas niñas son una amenaza a la Patria, traidoras a la nación, y la otra una heroína. Esta retórica bipolar, blanca y negra, es común durante tiempos de guerra y aparece una y otra vez en los diarios de trinchera. El tema de traición y traidores es de por sí un capítulo propio. Entonces, ¿por qué se sigue utilizando ahora, en tiempos de “paz” esta retórica? Un constante estado de crisis, cuasi bélico, está siendo perpetuado por el estado paraguayo. La guerra es paz, la libertad es esclavitud, la ignorancia es la fuerza.
Aclaro que el proyecto no es sobre la Guerra, aunque este tema permanece relevante por la manera en que se utiliza no solo en política y diplomacia paraguaya, sino también desde sectores culturales como la Secretaría Nacional de Cultura, que promueve proyectos y competencias como éstos, que perpetúan la glorificación bélica ultra nacionalista y militarista, y de la figura del Mariscal en particular.
El proyecto tampoco trata simplemente una gran acumulación investigativa de informaciones, sino que intenta identificar e ilustrar patrones históricos de comportamiento dentro de ella. ¿Cuáles han sido las dinámicas de relación entre el estado nación paraguayo con demográficas vulnerables y marginalizadas? ¿Cuáles han sido los dispositivos de contacto y control?
Durante mi estadía en la residencia de arte Art Omi en Junio/Julio 2022, en una conversación con una curadora especializada en temas de guerra y género, Monika Fabjianska, ella me preguntó si mi proyecto trata el estado fallido. En el momento contesté que sí, pero luego mi mente retornó una y otra vez a esta respuesta. Tardíamente me di cuenta de que lo que me molesta del término estado fallido en este contexto es que implica que hubo una original intención que fracasó. Al contrario, a través de mi trabajo he llegado a la teoría de que la relación del estado paraguayo con la ciudadanía ha sido cultivada. La violencia, la instrumentalización, la polarización y la desinformación han sido claves para mantener a la ciudadanía en un constante estado de crisis y al estado nación, en sus distintas iteraciones, en un determinado sitio de autoridad y poder.
Este proyecto ofrece un sinfín de posibilidades de materialización. He empezado a construir un mapa mental, con la intención de que sea móvil para poder acomodar nuevas informaciones y nuevas reconstrucciones. Inclusive pudiera entregar el mapa a otras personas, con otras perspectivas, para que ellas formen nuevas conexiones. He comenzado por una esquina dentro de esta constelación: el estado nación y género - específicamente, niñas.
Referencias a mujeres son relativamente comunes en los diarios de trinchera, especialmente en El Centinela y Cabichui. Menos comunes son referencias a niñas y adolescentes. Ejemplo: un artículo de El Centinela del 11 de Setiembre de 1867, publicado pocos días después de que las mujeres patricias de Asunción entreguen sus joyas y alhajas en beneficio de la causa bélica: aplaude el discurso de una niña huérfana de 7 años que declara desear contribuir con sus brazos vengar la muerte de su padre, que muere en la guerra, y contribuir a la causa bélica en defensa de la libertad.
Lo primero que viene a la mente es la pregunta, ¿qué niña de siete años habla así? ¿Habrá repetido un discurso que le dieron en antemano? ¿Sucedió esto realmente? Suspendiendo nuestra incredulidad sobre la veracidad de este acontecimiento, podemos abordar otro ángulo de análisis sobre esta historia. La trágica situación de una huérfana en plena guerra es instrumentalizada para crear una narrativa de heroísmo y patriotismo. Inclusive niñas de siete años pueden servir a la Patria y avanzar sus intereses bélicos. Esto lo vemos con aún más intensidad en la Batalla de Acosta Nu, la batalla de los niños soldados, de 1869.
El artículo sobre la huérfana de siete años la traigo frente a frente con el asesinato de las niñas Lilian y María del Carmen Villalba, de once años, en Yby Yaú por Fuerzas Armadas del Paraguay en el 2020. Hago un colapso de la historia para evidenciar ecos de una misma temática. En el segundo caso, el estado también intenta instrumentalizar a las niñas. El 2 de Setiembre del 2020 Presidente Marito Abdo comparte el siguiente tweet:
"Hemos tenido un operativo exitoso en contra del EPP. Luego de un enfrentamiento, dos integrantes de este grupo armado han sido abatidos. Hay un oficial herido. A todo el equipo le ratifiqué mi agradecimiento por su valentía en la lucha contra este grupo criminal."
El Presidente, mediante este primer tweet sobre lo acontecido, lo presenta de manera radicalmente distinta a los hechos reales. Aún después de la crisis a nivel nacional que explota cuando el encubrimiento se desmorona y la edad e identidades de las niñas salen a luz, el estado se mantiene firme en su posición de enemistad, aunque variando los argumentos: las niñas estaban armadas, las niñas dispararon primero, los agentes de la FTC actuaron en defensa personal, la culpa era de los padres de las niñas por ponerlas en ese lugar, etc. Lilian y María del Carmen Villalba fueron representadas por el estado como el antítesis a la huérfana de siete años. Unas niñas son una amenaza a la Patria, traidoras a la nación, y la otra una heroína. Esta retórica bipolar, blanca y negra, es común durante tiempos de guerra y aparece una y otra vez en los diarios de trinchera. El tema de traición y traidores es de por sí un capítulo propio. Entonces, ¿por qué se sigue utilizando ahora, en tiempos de “paz” esta retórica? Un constante estado de crisis, cuasi bélico, está siendo perpetuado por el estado paraguayo. La guerra es paz, la libertad es esclavitud, la ignorancia es la fuerza.
EN
I
On September 2nd, 2020, the President of Paraguay, Marito Abdo Benitez tweeted:
“We have had a successful operation against the EPP [domestic paramilitary terrorist group]. Following a confrontation, two members of this armed group have been abated. There is an officer hurt. To the entire team I give my thanks for their bravery in the fight against this armed group.”
I was on my farm when Abdo tweeted this, in a rural and rather isolated area of Paraguay. I admit I didn’t pay much attention to it, partly because I, like many others, don’t know much about the EPP. I believe that it exists, but I am not sure to what extent it is the threat the government purports it to be. In a sense it seems to function as a convenient boogeyman. Every so often the government will announce that it has abated two “bad men” in a remote location, far away from the capital city. But don’t look over here, at the rising costs of living, or over there, at the latest corruption scandal.
This time, however, the tweet was followed by an unexpected amount of attention. Over the next couple of days there was a flurry of Twitter, Facebook, Instagram posts about the two members killed in the confrontation. Tv anchors across all channels were constantly talking about this one incident. It was all over newsprint media. I remember texting friends on Whatsapp, asking what was going on. Everyone was confused. Then the Argentinean government got involved, which further confused everyone. What did Argentina have to do with this?
Information leaked slowly. The two armed members of the EPP were apparently women, which was a rather small surprise, as women were a vocal and visible part of the EPP. Further interviews followed, each more convoluted than the one before. The bodies, which had been hastily buried due to “Covid regulations”, were exhumed. In another moment of critical clarity it was revealed that the women were between 18 and 25 years old. Forensic experts attested to the “sexual maturity” of the corpses. Finally, the truth came out. The bodies belonged to two eleven-year-old girls, cousins María del Carmen y Lilian Villalba. One had six bullets in her back and the other two.
Crisis erupted on a national scale. The entire state machinery, including forensic teams, military personnel, journalists, politicians, all the way up to the President, was involved in the clumsy cover-up attempt. It quickly became clear that the reason the victims’ ages had leaked was because they carried Argentinean documents. This begged the questions: How could an elite squad, financed by the US to the tune of 2 million dollars, confuse two small girls for armed men? How many times had this happened, but the victims had only Paraguayan documents? Had the military dictatorship really ended in 1989? Dictadura nunca más?
In the days and weeks that followed, as the Paraguayan government and military came under mounting criticism, demonstrations were held locally and regionally. The state switched from one conflicting version to another, but didn’t back down from its position, insisting on the “success” of the operation, despite the two girls’ murders. State officials deflected blame by claiming that the girls had been armed, had fired first, or that it was the parents’ fault for placing them in the crossfire.
Two years later no one has gone to prison for Lilian and Maria del Carmen’s murders and Marito Abdo Benítez is still President.
II
My research has taken me to 19th Century war camp newspapers, namely El Centinela, Estrella, Cabichui, Cacique Lambare and El Semanario. These newspapers ran during the Triple Alliance War that took place from 1865-1870, where Paraguay lost against the combined forces of Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay. The war was catastrophic for Paraguay. Perhaps 60% of the total population died during the war, and up to 90% of the male population, leaving only men too old or boys too young to fight. Towards the end of the war, even boys were conscripted to fight against professional forces many times their numbers. Their faces were smeared with ash and they were given wooden sticks to hold, to make them appear older and armed from a distance. Needless to say, 10 year old boys do not appear full grown even from a distance, and the child army was massacred.
Paraguay was destroyed and made anew in the image and interests of Brazil and Argentina, whose armies occupied the devastated country. The two major Paraguayan political parties - the Colorados and the Liberales - were created following the war during this time period, one in allegiance to Brazil and the other in allegiance to Argentina. The only reason Paraguay exists as a nation today is because Brazil preferred to maintain it as a buffer zone between itself and Argentina, overriding Argentina’s proposal to carve its territory up equally between the two.
Today it is impossible to talk about Paraguayan politics, economics, history, environmental crises or current affairs without talking also about its two largest neighbors. It is a vassal state to Brazil, primarily, and to Argentina, secondarily.
III
El Centinela’s September 12th 1867 issue was largely dedicated to articles on the Fair Sex. Earlier that month, patrician women of Asunción had held a ceremony, in which they had handed over their jewelry in benefit of the war cause. Among such articles there is a short, one paragraph section titled “Notable.” It reads as follows:
“A 7-year-old girl pronounced on the night of the 8th in the National Club an allocution in presence of all the fair sex, that, because of her clear expression, her accent and the concepts that it contained, elicited repeated applause. “I am an orphan,” she said. “My Father died in defense of the Nation, but I have arms to avenge his generous blood - I, too, come to contribute with what I have for the defense of liberty.” Innocence is eloquent and its words are like the singing of angels that we listen to with religious pleasure.”
The first question that comes to mind is, what 7-year-old girl speaks like that? Beyond that, and suspending disbelief regarding the accuracy of this scene, it is difficult to ignore the painful parallels between the 19th century orphan and the 21st century 11-year-olds. Young girls brutally caught up in power plays between forces unknown to them. One arbitrarily cast as a hero, the latter two cast as traitors.
During wartime nuance is a rarity. Heroes are those who lay down their lives for God and Nation, willingly, with honor and glory. Anyone that falls short of this standard is branded a traitor. Children are not exempt.
The girls’ tragedies are evidence that Paraguay still functions according to a polarizing hero-vs-traitor wartime paradigm and that in 150 years not much has changed in the state’s relation to its citizenry and to girlhood in particular.
On September 2nd, 2020, the President of Paraguay, Marito Abdo Benitez tweeted:
“We have had a successful operation against the EPP [domestic paramilitary terrorist group]. Following a confrontation, two members of this armed group have been abated. There is an officer hurt. To the entire team I give my thanks for their bravery in the fight against this armed group.”
I was on my farm when Abdo tweeted this, in a rural and rather isolated area of Paraguay. I admit I didn’t pay much attention to it, partly because I, like many others, don’t know much about the EPP. I believe that it exists, but I am not sure to what extent it is the threat the government purports it to be. In a sense it seems to function as a convenient boogeyman. Every so often the government will announce that it has abated two “bad men” in a remote location, far away from the capital city. But don’t look over here, at the rising costs of living, or over there, at the latest corruption scandal.
This time, however, the tweet was followed by an unexpected amount of attention. Over the next couple of days there was a flurry of Twitter, Facebook, Instagram posts about the two members killed in the confrontation. Tv anchors across all channels were constantly talking about this one incident. It was all over newsprint media. I remember texting friends on Whatsapp, asking what was going on. Everyone was confused. Then the Argentinean government got involved, which further confused everyone. What did Argentina have to do with this?
Information leaked slowly. The two armed members of the EPP were apparently women, which was a rather small surprise, as women were a vocal and visible part of the EPP. Further interviews followed, each more convoluted than the one before. The bodies, which had been hastily buried due to “Covid regulations”, were exhumed. In another moment of critical clarity it was revealed that the women were between 18 and 25 years old. Forensic experts attested to the “sexual maturity” of the corpses. Finally, the truth came out. The bodies belonged to two eleven-year-old girls, cousins María del Carmen y Lilian Villalba. One had six bullets in her back and the other two.
Crisis erupted on a national scale. The entire state machinery, including forensic teams, military personnel, journalists, politicians, all the way up to the President, was involved in the clumsy cover-up attempt. It quickly became clear that the reason the victims’ ages had leaked was because they carried Argentinean documents. This begged the questions: How could an elite squad, financed by the US to the tune of 2 million dollars, confuse two small girls for armed men? How many times had this happened, but the victims had only Paraguayan documents? Had the military dictatorship really ended in 1989? Dictadura nunca más?
In the days and weeks that followed, as the Paraguayan government and military came under mounting criticism, demonstrations were held locally and regionally. The state switched from one conflicting version to another, but didn’t back down from its position, insisting on the “success” of the operation, despite the two girls’ murders. State officials deflected blame by claiming that the girls had been armed, had fired first, or that it was the parents’ fault for placing them in the crossfire.
Two years later no one has gone to prison for Lilian and Maria del Carmen’s murders and Marito Abdo Benítez is still President.
II
My research has taken me to 19th Century war camp newspapers, namely El Centinela, Estrella, Cabichui, Cacique Lambare and El Semanario. These newspapers ran during the Triple Alliance War that took place from 1865-1870, where Paraguay lost against the combined forces of Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay. The war was catastrophic for Paraguay. Perhaps 60% of the total population died during the war, and up to 90% of the male population, leaving only men too old or boys too young to fight. Towards the end of the war, even boys were conscripted to fight against professional forces many times their numbers. Their faces were smeared with ash and they were given wooden sticks to hold, to make them appear older and armed from a distance. Needless to say, 10 year old boys do not appear full grown even from a distance, and the child army was massacred.
Paraguay was destroyed and made anew in the image and interests of Brazil and Argentina, whose armies occupied the devastated country. The two major Paraguayan political parties - the Colorados and the Liberales - were created following the war during this time period, one in allegiance to Brazil and the other in allegiance to Argentina. The only reason Paraguay exists as a nation today is because Brazil preferred to maintain it as a buffer zone between itself and Argentina, overriding Argentina’s proposal to carve its territory up equally between the two.
Today it is impossible to talk about Paraguayan politics, economics, history, environmental crises or current affairs without talking also about its two largest neighbors. It is a vassal state to Brazil, primarily, and to Argentina, secondarily.
III
El Centinela’s September 12th 1867 issue was largely dedicated to articles on the Fair Sex. Earlier that month, patrician women of Asunción had held a ceremony, in which they had handed over their jewelry in benefit of the war cause. Among such articles there is a short, one paragraph section titled “Notable.” It reads as follows:
“A 7-year-old girl pronounced on the night of the 8th in the National Club an allocution in presence of all the fair sex, that, because of her clear expression, her accent and the concepts that it contained, elicited repeated applause. “I am an orphan,” she said. “My Father died in defense of the Nation, but I have arms to avenge his generous blood - I, too, come to contribute with what I have for the defense of liberty.” Innocence is eloquent and its words are like the singing of angels that we listen to with religious pleasure.”
The first question that comes to mind is, what 7-year-old girl speaks like that? Beyond that, and suspending disbelief regarding the accuracy of this scene, it is difficult to ignore the painful parallels between the 19th century orphan and the 21st century 11-year-olds. Young girls brutally caught up in power plays between forces unknown to them. One arbitrarily cast as a hero, the latter two cast as traitors.
During wartime nuance is a rarity. Heroes are those who lay down their lives for God and Nation, willingly, with honor and glory. Anyone that falls short of this standard is branded a traitor. Children are not exempt.
The girls’ tragedies are evidence that Paraguay still functions according to a polarizing hero-vs-traitor wartime paradigm and that in 150 years not much has changed in the state’s relation to its citizenry and to girlhood in particular.
