Argentina’s Missing Bones is the first comprehensive English-language work of historical scholarship on the 1976–83 military dictatorship and Argentina’s notorious experience with state terrorism during the so-called dirty war. It examines this history in a single but crucial Córdoba, Argentina’s second largest city. A site of thunderous working-class and student protest prior to the dictatorship, it later became a place where state terrorism was particularly cruel. Considering the legacy of this violent period, James P. Brennan examines the role of the state in constructing a public memory of the violence and in holding those responsible accountable through the most extensive trials for crimes against humanity to take place anywhere in Latin America.
The premise on the back cover of this book is what caught my interest: a historical analysis of Argentina's last dictatorship focused on Córdoba province.
This book fails to deliver on that. Though it does have Córdoba as a starting point, it meanders too frequently into general events, nationwide or international in scope, and drifts away from what made the work interesting at first.
The author also emphasises several times that the number of works on the subject from a historical point of view is particularly thin. However, he fails to add in any significant way to that. Not that the book doesn't try, but I found some points moot. Noting that the CONADEP report (and others) lacks in historical perspective seems almost like misunderstanding what the report was trying to achieve. The Argentinian dictatorship wasn't like the one in Paraguay - the reports were mostly gone and the military leaders kept a vow of silence. Pointing out that it doesn't discuss the causes that led to the state terrorism is a hollow argument. I had hoped this book would do that!
On the same level, the dichotomy between history and memory also seemed off. Memory, as the author states, played a significant role after 1983. But as with the CONADEP report, it's presented as lacking in any historical anchor. At points, it seemed as if the author was demanding too much of the sources. I mean, the people who could've shed some light were tortured and killed. So... maybe that had something to do with it?
Despite it all, the one big failing of this book is the constant use of the terms "dirty war" and "state terrorism" in an interchangeable manner. The author states that "dirty war" is his preferred term given that "represión" (repression) sounds bland and implies culpability. It seems like a strange hill to die on, considering that the repression was performed by the state. So, yes, the state was culpable. For performing acts of terrorism. Hence, state terrorism.
And lastly, the writing. I can imagine how this book would be a very frustrating experience for someone who doesn't speak Spanish. There's no clear criteria for the translations or the use of acronyms throughout the book. And, maybe a pet peeve, the notes do not accompany the text, which is mildly infuriating.
To sum up: go read books on the subject by Argentinian authors. I'm almost certain they won't try to sugarcoat the role of the US in the whole ordeal by bringing up Jimmy Carter's efforts to stop the human rights violations Henry Kissinger very much approved of years prior.
A well-researched and meticulously sourced book on Argentina's last military dictatorship: the events, war crimes, and a very well-framed explanation of the issues around the widely-used term "dirty war" to describe that period in time. Focused almost entirely on events in the city of Córdoba, the book still provides a balanced national and international context for what it is describing, ultimately giving the reader a very clear idea of what happened in Argentina, why, and who the major players were, inside and outside the country. Although occasionally prone to repetition, the book is very readable and provides some very useful appendices such as notable speeches or press releases from major figures in the books' events. The book itself is actually quite short but gives the rather strange impression of being considerably longer as a result of the extensive notes and the unusual editorial decision to print the names, ages, and political affliations (or lack thereof) of every single victim of the government regime, which takes up nearly a quarter of the book.