Stolen Childhood in Argentina: Three books reconstruct the difficult path to self-identity

The premiere of the series El Eternauta on April 30 quickly became a worldwide phenomenon. Off-screen, an inevitable part of the conversation revolves around the tragic story of one of its creators, Héctor Germán Oesterheld , who remains missing, along with his daughters—two of whom are pregnant—and two of his sons-in-law. According to the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo , the series' popularity has increased the number of inquiries from people with questions about his identity.

This represents a renewed push for a search effort that has been ongoing for nearly 50 years . In January of this year, the resolution of case 139 was announced, but it is estimated that nearly 400 more cases remain unsolved.

For the doubter, facing a search is an intimate and always unique plot that doesn't respond to the urgency of a historical demand. "History only seems to be concerned with facts; emotions are always marginalized," says Svetlana Aleksievich, in one of the epigraphs that journalist Federico Bianchini chooses to begin his book Your Name Is Not Your Name (Editorial Marea), in which he recounts the case of Claudia Poblete Hlaczik , the first to result in a conviction of a soldier for baby theft.

Until she was 21, Claudia Poblete lived under the identity of Mercedes Landa, a girl from the Belgrano neighborhood who was studying Systems Engineering. In February 2000, following a court summons, she learned that her biological parents were José Poblete and Gertrudis Hlaczik , members of the Montoneros.

From that moment on, she began to play a leading role in the process, fraught with contradictions and conflicting feelings , of accepting a painful past, preparing to receive the unexpected love of a biological family, and getting used to calling "appropriators" those whom she had previously called "Mom" and "Dad."

In their book , "Los nietos te cuente como fue. Historias de identidad" (The Grandchildren Tell You How It Was. Stories of Identity ) (Marea), Analía Argento and Mariana Zaffaroni Islas also set out to explore the personal experiences of thirteen recovered grandchildren , including one of the authors and illustrator Sabrina Gullino, who is still searching for her twin brother. Argento had previously explored this topic in her book "De vuelta a casa" (Back Home ). This new book, designed for a young audience , is yet another document that provides testimony and can reach new generations, while also illustrating the variety of cases.

While some went looking for answers, others received the news through the courts and had to deal with the responsibility of being living proof of the crime committed by those who raised them. On the other hand, not all adoptions were criminal or irregular.

Nor were all encounters with biological families idyllic. Discovering the truth didn't always involve breaking ties with foster families. And, undoubtedly, the experience wasn't the same for those who received the news when they were under ten years old as for those who were over forty.

Daniel Santucho Navajas confirmed what he had long suspected in July 2023, when he was forty-six years old . As he recounts in Nieto 133. My Path to the Truth (Planeta), his whole life began again. In his case, in addition to his siblings, a father was waiting for him . He never got to meet his grandmother, Nélida Gómez de Navajas.

"Like forced disappearance, identity theft is a crime that continues to be committed over and over again. It's a lie that multiplies to the nth degree," she describes in her book.

In the stories of recovered grandchildren, there are similarities, echoes that recur. The moment of mutual recognition with blood relatives, the emotion of discovering a physical resemblance in others for the first time. Inexplicable coincidences between lives that pass so far apart .

Also, in many cases, the role of one's own family and children as a catalyst for the search for identity: the surname ceases to be an individual issue and becomes a legacy. And, despite the arduous recovery process, there is a shared sense that the pieces that didn't fit together are finally falling into place. "The truth is never sad; what it can't be cured is a cure," his uncle told Poblete during one of their first meetings.

Manuel Gonçalves was the first restored grandchild to serve on the board of directors of the Grandmothers, taking the position left vacant by Daniel Santucho's grandmother after her death. Poblete is currently the first member of the Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo, while his grandmother serves as vice president of the organization.

This shared commitment seals the promise of continuity, a passing of the generational torch. As the years pass, grandmothers age, but they leave a legacy that transcends borders, for example, through the scientific advancements that led to the grandparent index. Today, the use of technological innovations such as artificial intelligence makes it possible to imagine the possible faces of missing grandchildren.

“Without a narrative, history fades away,” Bianchini writes, recounting his experience visiting the clandestine center where Poblete's parents were detained. Spaces alone, he says, are insufficient to transmit memory , although their preservation remains necessary for the ongoing trials for crimes against humanity.

Mariana Tello Weiss is a psychologist with a PhD in Anthropology, a researcher at the former La Perla clandestine center, and president of the National Archive of Memory. She was also a baby appropriated by a police officer who participated in the operation in which her mother was killed, although her grandfather was able to recover her three months after the incident. In her book Ghosts of the Dictatorship: An Ethnography of Apparitions, Specters, and Souls in Pain (Sudamericana), she analyzes, from an academic perspective, accounts of apparitions, visits to mediums, and other unexplained events. A topic that, according to its author, was long taboo , but is part of the lived experience of victims and their families.

The cinematic narrative was fundamental for Santucho Navajas. Although many years would pass before he began his search for identity, he says he remembers the moment he saw the film The Night of the Pencils as a turning point in his life. It was the first seed that began to shatter the world constructed by its appropriator, a first indication that there was another side to the story.

In Argento and Zaffaroni Islas's book, through the films, songs, and books that grandchildren mention among their favorites, there are fictional stories that connect in unexpected ways with their personal histories . Harry Potter and Steven Spielberg's film AI, Artificial Intelligence , initially so far removed from the events of the Argentine dictatorship, speak to the identity of children without parents.

For twenty-five years, Teatro por la identidad has also proposed new ways of telling the stories of grandchildren and their quests. Through public demonstrations, school events, documentaries, and events featuring figures from the world of sports and entertainment, human rights organizations strive to continue engaging society.

Despite the state cuts in funding for areas that support investigations into these crimes, the familiar slogan remains an invitation: "If you were born between 1975 and 1983, you could be one of the grandchildren we're yet to find." On the other side, there will be 139 stories to welcome and share.