It was a beeping disaster.
We’d spent four days on the coast of Chile, in a small beach town called Maitencillo. After a hearty dose of sea time and many shrimp empanadas, we came home — reluctant and happy. But the journey took longer than we expected.
Forty-five minutes into our drive, we made it to the first toll booth. Honks filled the air. Not one, not two, but harsh, obnoxious, blaring beeps erupted, and it didn’t stop. Angry shouts were a nice touch.
Chile had once been coined as the ‘Oasis’ of Latin America. But my blissful beach days — and those of Chile — were far gone, and the paradise was lost. It was the protestors. The person at the toll booth told us they were angry about the toll price hike.
Smoke bombs marked our entry into my aunt’s neighborhood. That time, my mom explained, the police set them off. But other times, it’s the protestors, often a battle between them and the officers, each trying to disperse the other. A barricade of people stood to the right of the smoke.
It looked like the set from “Les Miserables” made it to Chile, and there was little missing. Hundreds clustered around a statue, cloaked in red, white, and blue. Some held up flags, others waived their posters. “Kill Pinera,” one read. Everyone was screaming. My aunt said they gather there every night.
It’s been more than three months since public transportation tickets hiked in price, but the streets of Santiago still reek with anger. In a recent editorial, the Wall Street Journal documented the cost of the riots and protesting. The riots have caused more than $2 billion in losses and damages, which include 1,200 looted retail stores, and 300,000 newly unemployed people. More than 2,000 police officers have been injured, and 25 others have been killed in the riots.
President Pińera certainly heightened the problem by his economic policies, but the bus fare hikes weren’t enough to be the leading cause of the major revolt — it was only a 30-peso increase, adding the equivalent of 4 cents to the bus prices.
The core problem began much earlier, under Michelle Bachelet’s presidency from 2014 to 2018.
After she won the election in 2014, Bachelet said in her victory speech that “Chile has looked at itself, has looked at its path, its recent history, its wounds, its feats, its unfinished business and this Chile has decided it is the time to start deep transformations.”
Her transformations only created problems that didn’t exist. They infringed on a once free and stable country.
The population of those living in poverty had decreased from 30% in 2000 to 6.4% in 2017 under free-market reform. And Chile was the first country in the world to establish a private social security program.
Under this, each month Chilean workers deposit a percentage of their income in an account in their name, managed by private companies called Administradoras de Fondos de Pensiones, or administrators of pension funds. When workers retire, they do not depend on the workers who came before them to pay into the system to receive a pension. Rather, they receive their own money. This system — contrary to any other country in South America — is fully funded.
But Bachelet immediately began to devise a state-run pension program, according to Forbes in an article following her election. “As is easy to foresee, this will probably create unfair competition to the current private administrators which would not be able to match the commissions charged by an enterprise subsidized by the taxpayers’ money,” the article said.
She didn’t stop there. She later banned the replacement of workers on strike, which increased the cost of labor for businesses, and public spending increased faster than the rate of economic growth.
These political reforms sparked the destruction. But the damage rests in their influence on the Chileans’ patriotism: many felt there was little left to believe in.
In a recent Wall Street Journal editorial, scholar Axel Kaiser argued that Chile’s destruction began in the universities, “where progressive ideologues spread the idea that there was nothing to feel proud about when it came to Chile’s social and economic record.”
Chileans stopped believing in their country because of these reforms, and also because of their influence within education systems. In order for a country to thrive, each citizen must believe it can do so — educators, students, and government leaders alike. This is true patriotism, and it must be fostered by government leaders who promote stability.
Patriotism is the lifeblood of a nation, and without it, a nation cannot survive. It is with great pride that Americans stand together and say the Pledge of Allegiance or sing the “Star-Spangled Banner.”
Chile must look forward, toward the progress it can make. But living in regression — and aggravating it — has destroyed Chileans’ joy in their country.
“Right now, Pinera is toast,” said Patricio Navia, a Chilean political scientist who teaches at New York University. “The left hates him, and the right thinks he gave the left too many concessions.”
There are no winners now. Only sore losers who couldn’t see the big picture of the game when they were winning — and when the ‘Oasis’ hadn’t run dry.
Sofia Krusmark is a junior studying philosophy. She is the culture editor for The Collegian.