Protesters lied on Fort Benning Road, motionless and face down, dressed in tattered clothes covered with fake bloodstains. Their bodies were sprawled next to cardboard cutouts with the names and ages of casualties of social injustice. “Encio Juaran, 17 years old,” read one cutout. “Jose Raul Diaz, 2 months,” read another.
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The following day, they raised white-painted, wooden crosses printed with the name of a victim, into the abnormally chilly and still air of Fort Benning, Ga. And in calm unison, they all chanted “presente” in Spanish after the name of a victim was solemnly sung from the main stage.
For two hours, 48 Marquette students and thousands of others heard the countless names of Latin Americans who were killed at the hands of Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation graduates. Six of those names were those of the Jesuit priests targeted by a WHINSEC trained battalion in November of 1989. This year marks the 20th anniversary of their deaths, as well as the last year of the annual Ignatian Family Teach-In and vigil at Fort Benning gates.
Jesuit universities, high schools and organizations from across the country met in Columbus, Ga., during the weekend of Nov. 20 through 22 to commemorate the lives of the six Jesuit “martyrs” and thousands of others lost due to guerilla warfare throughout much of Latin America. On Friday evening and Saturday morning, the Columbus Convention Center bustled with activists, some reuniting with others they had met in previous years, others sticking tight to the group they arrived with, unfamiliar with their current location. Everyone took their seats in the large auditorium, and were greeted by Ann Magovern, executive director of the Ignatian Solidarity Network, the organization that plans the annual teach-in. Activists listened to speakers, engaged in sing-a-longs and attended break out sessions related to social justice causes.
School of the Assassins
Marquette students joined thousands from across the country outside Fort Benning in Columbus, Ga., which is home to WHINSEC. The institute was created in 1946 as the U.S. Army School of the Americas. Originally located in Panama, the SOA relocated to Fort Benning in 1984 following the Panama Peace Treaty, and renamed itself WHINSEC in 2001. It serves as a professional and military training school for Latin American soldiers, and teaches students basics in leadership, counterdrug, relief planning and ethics.
Some of WHINSEC’s graduates have used their combat training to launch bloody attacks on the people of their home countries, leading to its nickname, “School of the Assassins.”
Teaching manuals from the 1980s that have since been released show the school once taught controversial interrogation and counterinsurgency methods as part of its curriculum.
For Mike Ziegler, a senior in the College of Arts & Sciences, this year marked his fourth time at the teach-in and vigil.
“It’s been a constant conscious awareness of the fact there are injustices in the world and some have very direct causes, such as injustice in Latin America happening directly because our government supports the School of the Americas,” he said.
On its Web site, WHINSEC includes in its objectives, the training of students to pursue solutions of political, judicial and economic problems that may arise in the western hemisphere.
“WHINSEC is a strategic tool for international engagement and those civilian-military and civilian-law enforcement relationships are so important to the stability and justice of the democratic governments in our hemisphere,” the Web site states.
When Marquette students filed onto a bus Thursday night, Nov. 19, some were heading to Fort Benning for their first time, while others were seasoned social justice warriors.
Marecca Vertin, a senior in the College of Arts & Sciences, has been going to Fort Benning since her freshman year. She said the protest was “one of the first real activating things that I did when I got to Marquette and it’s how I found a community of people who are committed to the same ideals of justice as I am.”
Although each student activist was provoked to protest for different reasons, they collectively sought to represent the victims of transgressive militarism and to be voices for those who have fallen silent.
“These people are literally voiceless now, they’ve been made voiceless by the U.S. Military and by the people the U.S. Military has trained who go back to Latin America and kill their own people and render them powerless,” Margaret Quick, a senior in the College of Nursing, said. “They need our voices and that to me is reason to go back every year.”
Past to present
Three metal fences barred the crowd from the interior grounds of the fort. A new fence was present this year, adorned with barbed and razor wire. It separated people from the “Welcome to Fort Benning” sign, which was now draped in a large tarp to stop vandalism. The large flagpole, with its flag raised, was smeared in thick, opaque wax to prevent protesters from scaling it. Police officers, state troopers and military officials stood guard on all sides and corners of Fort Benning Road. From a raised platform near the fences, uniformed military men watched the crowd with binoculars and wary eyes.
In 1998, when John and Betsy Slosar, co-directors of the Doerr Center for Social Justice Education and Research at Saint Louis University, first came to the SOA protest, there was nothing stopping protestors from crossing into Fort Benning. But starting in 2001, the fort was closed and greater security measures began to appear.
“They’ve increased the number of fences, bringing people further and further out,” John said. “They increased the (amount) of barbed wire. It seems to get a little bit more repressive almost year by year in terms of allowing people in.”
Early Sunday morning, four people were arrested for climbing the gates and into Fort Benning as an act of civil disobedience. Upon hearing the news, the crowd roared in excitement. There were cheers and applause in support for the activists’ boldness.
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Presente
In Spanish, “presente” means “present.” But to the thousands of people who held vigil outside Fort Benning gates, “presente” meant something much more profound.
Susan Haarman, a Marquette alumna, was a key speaker at the teach-in on Nov. 20. She recalled her nine years of attendance at the Ignatian Family Teach-In and vigil. Haarman first ventured to Fort Benning in 2000 with Marquette.
Haarman stood illuminated at the podium, with countless eyes focused on her as she spoke. Her words were short and concise, spoken with a sense of ease but loaded with an underlying passion.
“We say presente because we seek to remember the dead, the innocent and the martyred. We know that their memory lives in us even when they are no longer physically present,” she said. “We say presente because we know that when we stand together to remember the victims of the SOA, they stand with us.”
Haarman told the audience they needed to incorporate ‘presente’ in all that they do.
“We need to shout presente, we need to shout it until our throats go hoarse and we tear the roof off this building. But most importantly, we need to shout presente with our lives,” she said.
Future
The weekend marked the last time the vigil and teach-in would be held in Columbus. Activists questioned the future of their fight to close WHINSEC.
MacGovern announced Saturday morning, that the network would be moving its teach-in and vigil to Washington, D.C., in 2010. The nation’s capitol was chosen for its centrality for Jesuit schools, and most importantly, for its prime location of the country’s government officials.
On the ride home, student activists said they felt reenergized for their cause to fight the institute they say promotes violence and impedes moral and ethical ideals.
Molly Henry, a junior in the College of Health Sciences, who went to the teach-in and vigil for her first time, said the experience was interesting and powerful.
“I liked being with other Jesuit schools and sharing a common goal. We were all working toward the same thing,” she said.