Retired Carabineros Major José Luis Aguilera Díaz, currently the head of security for the Rabié companies, appears as one of the focal points of the investigation seeking to clarify the failures and cover-ups by the Carabineros in the case.

Slowly, leads are beginning to emerge regarding the network that protects powerful figures like Claudio Spiniak. The first names are also surfacing: one of them is retired Carabineros Major José Luis Aguilera Díaz, whose close contacts with the country's most famous detainee have generated suspicion in the investigation being carried out by the military prosecutor's office, where he has already been summoned to testify.

But this is not just speculation. Luis Hermosilla, the lawyer defending Claudio Spiniak, confirmed to LND (see interview) that it was Aguilera who made the famous phone call that aborted the raid that two Carabineros were going to carry out on his client's home on February 4, 2002.

This is also reaffirmed by the statements of Humberto Contreras Anguita, former comptroller manager of the distribution company Rabié, for which Aguilera has worked as head of security formally since 1998, but "off the books" from much earlier... even when he was an active officer of the uniformed police.

Last week, Aguilera was sentenced to five years in prison as the perpetrator of the homicide of Peruvian singer Percy Arana—an event that occurred in March 1984—who, after being brutally beaten, was finished off with a gunshot.

He is also the same officer who was only in charge of the investigation into the Matute case for three weeks before being removed due to his link to human rights violations. "The major didn't even manage to be unemployed for a day after he was kicked out of the Carabineros.

I personally hired him," recalls Contreras. The link, however, went back much further, because Aguilera had "some vehicles" working for Rabié in Santiago, "as payment for certain services," according to Contreras.

PAKO'S WITHOUT LIMITS

On March 8, 1995, that is, three years before leaving the police institution, Aguilera created, along with three minority partners, the company Sociedad Comercial y de Transportes Pako's Limitada, with a capital of 18.5 million pesos. "It started with just one pickup truck... now it has about seven," says Contreras, who recalls that when Aguilera was still in uniform, his name was enough to "get out of" any traffic violation. "If a Rabié executive was issued a ticket, it was enough to call him so that everything would be fixed," he says.

He even adds that in more than one accident, "he would show up on our instructions and manage to get the Carabineros to change the incident report." According to the former comptroller of Rabié, Aguilera's power within the police institution is due "to his past as CNI" and the close relationship he maintains with his peers who have risen to the rank of commander or colonel. "He speaks directly with the prefects in any part of the country," he asserts.

Distribuidora Rabié is part of the RABIE S.A. Holding—a firm founded in Chillán in 1902 that celebrated its centenary in grand fashion a year ago—and supplies some 40,000 retail merchants throughout the country through a fleet of more than 300 trucks.

The company has an annual turnover of nearly 200 million dollars and owns the Mall El Roble in Chillán. In the late 1980s, when Claudio Spiniak worked at Frigosam, the family business that marketed Te Club, he established a close friendship with brothers Jorge and Esteban Rabié Uauy through commercial relations with the Rabié company.

But the relationship was not only commercial. They also did favors for each other. As revealed last week by the weekly Siete+7, one of the weapons seized from Spiniak in the raid on his home in December 2002 was acquired through the intermediation of Jorge Rabié.

Because Spiniak did not have a fixed address in Chillán, he provided the Rabié address when he carried out the weapon registration procedures. Aguilera—according to Contreras, who was his direct boss—not only became the company's security chief.

He also created "an internal intelligence office" intended to abort the creation of unions or any manifestation of worker discontent. The "methodology" of the former Carabineros officer would be suffered by Contreras himself starting in 2002, when four of his closest collaborators—managers and assistant managers—were subjected to severe interrogations, led by Aguilera himself.

After suffering interrogations under incandescent lights, threats, and pressure, they were forced to testify against the former comptroller manager in the legal dispute that broke out between him and the company.

FRAUD AGAINST THE STATE

After the death of Jorge Rabié Davani, the patriarch of the clan, which occurred in 1999, Contreras Anguita's relationship with the Rabié heirs began to deteriorate, because they, "freed from the pressure of the father who did not allow them to have assets, vehicles, or credit cards, changed the way of doing things," says Contreras.

Annoyed by this attitude, the then-comptroller manager—with broad powers and a substantial salary—decided to retire from the company and requested an indemnity of one billion pesos. The significant figure he requested is because he considers himself the main person responsible for the company's solvency, as he devised a sophisticated system through which repeated illicit acts were committed.

As Contreras recounted to the magazine El Periodista, these consisted of "the withdrawal—over 20 years—of millions in cash by the partners without declaring them, the creation of fraudulent data, tax evasion, and evasion of social security contributions in the salary statements of salespeople, and deceptive systems in the payment of overtime to workers." Having learned from a close associate that, to justify the missing money, the Rabiés were preparing a lawsuit against him for the crime of repeated theft since 1996, Contreras filed a complaint on March 18, 2002, against Rabié before the Internal Revenue Service (SII) for fraud against the State. He also went to Senator Nelson Ávila to "blow the lid off" publicly and pointed out that the improper withdrawals reached 60 billion pesos and the evasion could reach 15 billion pesos, "the most important fraud against the State after Lozapenco," the senator stated. For that reason, Ávila reportedly included José Luis Aguilera and the Rabié brothers among "the names and surnames" that would be interested in "smearing him," which he delivered to Judge Daniel Calvo last Thursday. Consulted by LND about this situation, in his particular style, Ávila limited himself to pointing out: "your intuition has not failed you." The legal complaint for the theft of one billion pesos that the Rabiés filed in April 2002 against the former comptroller was rejected by the trial judge and later—last December—by the Chillán Court of Appeals by a vote of four to zero. Likewise, the SII issued 58 assessments for different irregularities, 10 of which would constitute tax crimes. However, criminal complaints have not yet been filed. Sources close to the case indicate that this is because the Rabié defense has delayed the case by filing various protection appeals against the SII in the Concepción Court of Appeals. Meanwhile, the four close collaborators of Contreras placed on record before notary Luis Eduardo Alvarez Díaz that they had been pressured to testify against the former comptroller manager. Two of them even filed criminal complaints against Rabié for threats and undue pressure. Regarding Spiniak's relationship with the Rabiés, Contreras points out that "he would arrive in his own plane and walk around like he owned the place, greeting everyone, and they would frequently go on trips to fish and hunt." Deputy Eugenio Tuma (PPD) also reportedly participated in some of these outings, as he maintained commercial and friendly relations with the Rabiés and Spiniak. He visited the latter in prison when he was detained the first time. Contreras pointed out that he personally gave money to Tuma, which is why the deputy filed a lawsuit for slander against him, "but they haven't gotten anywhere because I have recordings where he (Tuma) admits to having received money and says that all the politicians in Chile receive money from Rabié." Deputy Tuma affirmed to LND that he has a kinship tie with the Rabiés and admitted to having received money from them. "There are many relatives who have helped me financially in the campaigns and they are no exception." He denied, however, knowing if they have supported other politicians. Regarding the lawsuit against the former comptroller manager, the deputy says that "it is still ongoing and has not advanced because the reporters from the magazine El Periodista have not appeared to testify." He adds that in the process that the Rabiés are pursuing against Contreras, the latter "is under a travel ban and his assets are under embargo," but he does not know if it is true that "the Chillán Court of Appeals has favored him." Tuma acknowledges having had a friendship in the 80s with Spiniak, "but that does not make me a participant in the events known 20 years later." Furthermore, he claims not to know retired Major José Luis Aguilera. Contreras states that he had been summoned to testify by Judge Daniel Calvo before he was removed and that he now hopes to provide Minister Sergio Muñoz with all the information he possesses regarding the relationship that would exist between Spiniak, Aguilera, and the Rabiés. But the participation of former Major Aguilera is not the only situation that calls into question the actions of the Carabineros in the Spiniak case.

MADRIGAL AND PALMA

The sun beats down hard on the faces of former Carabineros corporals Mauricio Madrigal and Claudio Palma. Both sweat profusely but remain stoic, sitting in the only armchair at the Liberal Party headquarters.

The party's general secretary, lawyer Hilda Cerda, met them through the "Plan Cuadrante" and decided to take on the defense of both for only 800,000 pesos collected in a "family pool." She convinced them to speak to the press and tell their truth, to explain why they were separated from the institution and, practically, "degraded in the public square." And there they are.

They dress modestly, and on their wrists, they wear with decorous pride the gold watch that the General Director of Carabineros, Alberto Cienfuegos, gave them last December for the successful capture of Claudio Spiniak.

There they are, willing to tell their story once more, thinking that perhaps by repeating it so much, they can understand what happened. Because no matter how much they turn it over, they do not understand how in a few months they went from heroes to villains.

This is the story of Madrigal and Palma, two modest Chileans who wore the police uniform and who challenged—without knowing it—a network that protects the powerful and whose tentacles seem to expand into unfathomable terrain.

DRUGS AND MONEY

It was in May 2002 when both police officers, in charge of security for the Santa María de Manquehue quadrant, arrived at Spiniak's residence located at La Cumbre 1175 because a security guard found it strange that a taxi remained stopped for so long in front of the house.

The homeowner came out barefoot—despite the cold—to tell them there was no problem. Madrigal sensed that something was wrong, "but I didn't report it because we must only record crimes." Five months later, in October of that year, a young man told them that gay parties were held at that address and that there were plenty of drugs. "So we started paying attention to Spiniak and his home," notes Palma.

On December 17, "we were on the third shift and we found a poorly parked vehicle. Upon approaching, we realized who it was and inspected him, finding drugs and money." Spiniak was arrested. The drugs were not much, but with the previous information, "we presumed there were more drugs in the homes and asked the magistrate of the 33rd Court (Eleonora Domínguez) for authorization to raid." In the operation, supported by Corporal José Monteville, they found more than half a kilo of cocaine, 80 pornographic videos, sadomasochistic items, two weapons, and a silencer.

A day after the arrest, the clerk of the 33rd Court, Cristián Arias, received a visit from a Carabineros officer—who did not identify himself—inquiring about the reasons for the arrest. Until now, no one has tried to find out who the officer was.

From that date until mid-May 2003, Madrigal and Palma continued with their patrols without knowing what was happening with Spiniak, who had been prosecuted for violation of the Arms and Drug Laws. His defense lawyer, Luis Hermosilla, tried several times to request release on bail, but the minister denied it because in the confrontations with Patricio Egaña—the other detainee in December—they could not agree on the ownership of one of the weapons.

To prove that Spiniak was a sick man, his defense presented the testimony of his nanny, Mónica Fariña, who spoke of the parties and mentioned the presence of young people at them. On May 9, the Eighth Chamber of the Court of Appeals took note of that statement and ordered the judge to investigate possible corruption of minors.

The magistrate called Madrigal and Palma to inform them that she decided to issue a simple investigation order addressed to the Civil Commission of the 48th Police Station for Family Affairs and also to the two of them—despite the fact that they do not have any training in investigative matters—so that they could investigate.

The reasons the judge gave for including their names were the need to maintain absolute confidentiality of the proceedings and the work performed in the capture of Spiniak. Madrigal and Palma requested the respective permits from their command and appeared at the 48th Police Station to coordinate the work with the civil commission and exchange information. "We gave them our phones so they could call us, but to this day they haven't rung," says Palma.

On May 15, 2003, both corporals began to gather the first data on the case that would later shake the country. The first clue they found was a news article they found while browsing the Internet about the arrest of Claudio Spiniak, where in two brief lines a security guard recounted that in February 2002 a minor fled the businessman's house. "That was the missing link for us," asserts Madrigal.

Now it is known that the man who called to abort the operation was retired Major Aguilera. After 15 days of patient efforts, they managed to find the whereabouts of C.B., who told them what happened. To this, they added the testimony of the guards and the report written in the logbook, and they realized the aborted raid that two Carabineros and a second lieutenant were going to carry out on February 4.

There is no written record of that situation in the Carabineros. "We reported it to the commissioner, Major Tapia, and we declared ourselves incompetent because we could not investigate a superior, but he told us that we had a judicial mandate and to just keep going," says Madrigal.

On June 12, they delivered the first report to the magistrate, where, based on what was seen in the videos and the testimony of the abused children, they confirmed the commission of the crime of corruption of minors.

However, two days later, the Eighth Chamber of the Court of Appeals granted Claudio Spiniak release on a bail of 10 million pesos. "I don't know what happened," says Madrigal, shrugging his shoulders with resignation when remembering that moment.

It is not easy to talk to them. Their answers are brief and have to be pulled out of them. To various questions, they only answer "I must not talk about what is in the report" or "that is a secret of the summary," maintaining a fierce loyalty to the institution that for now has turned its back on them, but to which they trust they will be reinstated.

In August, they went back to the 48th Police Station to exchange data with the civil commission and realized they had no information. "I don't know if they did any parallel management, but I have the impression that they didn't," they state.

Finally, on August 15, with all the information gathered, they informed the magistrate that they were in a position to arrest Claudio Spiniak, but Eleonora Domínguez told them that they first had to arrest the pimps.

They captured several of them; they don't remember exactly how many, because some were released almost immediately and had to be recaptured. On September 13, Judge Domínguez verbally ordered Madrigal to take statements from Spiniak.

The proceeding was carried out on Monday, September 15, by Madrigal. Three hours later, Palma arrived at Spiniak's home, when he was already finishing his testimony. The businessman asked that they leave him a copy, and they called the clerk to ask for authorization.

Cristián Arias informed them no, that they had to bring everything and deliver it to the 48th Police Station. "We don't know what happened," both former police officers recall with a look of disbelief.

They deny the three journalistic versions that have circulated justifying the magistrate taking that decision. "We did not fraternize, we did not have lunch, we did not drink a Coca-Cola, and we did not keep any videos," they assure.

Another version indicates that the judge was annoyed with Madrigal and Palma because they never delivered the investigation order to the 48th Police Station and therefore the personnel of that station were not doing it.

Madrigal states that the judge told them she had verbally informed the 48th of the mission to investigate. The corporals' defense states that it is the magistrate's obligation, and not their clients', to issue investigative orders.

As proof that they did not commit any crime, they point out that from September 15 to October 1, they returned to wearing the uniform and patrolling the streets. "If we did something wrong, they should have arrested us right away and not 15 days later," they state.

On September 30, they watched the high-profile arrest of Spiniak on the news, based mainly on the evidence they had gathered. Two days later, they were arrested and discharged, accused of failure to perform military duties.

On October 2, Madrigal was promoted—as it was recorded in official documents—to Sergeant 1st Class. Lawyer Cerda claims that she still does not have knowledge of the summary and does not know exactly what they are being accused of.

Source: La Nación, November 8, 2003

Having seen: In this case, Case No. 378-84 of the Second Military Court of Santiago, the possible commission of the crime of unnecessary violence resulting in death, provided for and punished in Article 330 No. 1 of the Code of Military Justice, against Percy Max Arana Saldaña, and the crime of unnecessary violence resulting in serious injury, provided for and punished in Article 330 No. 2 of the Code of Military Justice, against Marco Antonio Punaro Lillo, and the participation that would have corresponded in said illicit acts to Alberto Medina Cárdenas, Julio Urzúa Espinoza, Carlos Garrido Aldunate, José Aguilera Díaz, and Patricio Zamora Rodríguez, all already identified in the case files, has been investigated. By sentence dated April 27, 2000, written on page 1207 and following of the file, Garrido Aldunate, Aguilera Díaz, and Zamora Rodríguez were each sentenced to suffer the penalty of five years and one day of major imprisonment in its minimum degree, plus the accessory penalties of absolute perpetual disqualification for public offices and political rights, absolute disqualification for professional titles while the sentence lasts, and the payment of court costs, in their capacity as perpetrators of the crime of unnecessary violence causing the death of Arana Saldaña, while acquitting the defendants Medina Cárdenas and Urzúa Espinoza of that charge; Aguilera Díaz was also sentenced to suffer the penalty of three years and one day of minor imprisonment in its maximum degree, in his capacity as perpetrator of the crime of unnecessary violence causing serious injuries to Punaro Lillo. In addition, Carlos Garrido and José Aguilera were sentenced to the accessory military penalty of dismissal.

Source: Judiciary, October 28, 2003

Supreme Court sentences three officers for singer's crime

By a vote of six to zero, including that of the Army's Auditor General, General Juan Romero, the Criminal Chamber of the Supreme Court issued a ruling that turned the case of the crime against Peruvian singer Percy Arana around, reinstating the five-year prison sentences against three Carabineros officers, presumably now retired.

The Peruvian artist was shot and finished off on the ground with blows by the police on March 31, 1984, on Avenida Matta, in Santiago. On July 17, 2001, the Court Martial revoked the sentences of the then-active officers José Luis Aguilera Díaz, Patricio Zamora Rodríguez, and Carlos Garrido Aldunate, who were sentenced by the military judge of first instance.

On that date, the Court Martial maintained, in any case, another sentence of three years in prison against Aguilera for the crime of unnecessary violence that caused serious injuries to the civilian Marco Antonio Punaro Lillo, brother of a Carabineros officer.

The favorable unanimous ruling was obtained from the Criminal Chamber by the lawyer for FASIC, Nelson Caucoto, plaintiff for the family of Percy Arana and for the injured Punaro Lillo, who had to have a foot amputated due to a gunshot wound.

The events that took place on the indicated date on Avenida Matta occurred after the Carabineros gave a false alarm of an attack on police facilities, beginning a large-scale operation. As established in the investigation, the Carabineros fired a large number of projectiles excessively, causing Arana's car to crash.

He got out and raised his hands, running away scared, when he received a gunshot in the back. Then, discovering that he was Peruvian, one of the officers accused him of being a "Sendero Luminoso terrorist," which unleashed a massacre of blows on the ground against Arana. In the same excessive operation, Punaro Lillo was wounded by a gunshot.

Source: La Nación, October 29, 2003

Retired Major: Military Prosecutor prosecuted José Luis Aguilera

His lawyer appealed to the Court Martial and will ask today that his client and the others involved be subjected to a lie detector test. The First Military Prosecutor's Office of Santiago prosecuted retired Carabineros Major José Luis Aguilera, having well-founded presumptions that he aborted a police procedure related to child abuse at Claudio Spiniak's house.

The charges against Aguilera are for: usurpation of identity and functions, and as the perpetrator of inducing the crime of failure to perform military duties by those who were participating in the action.

Prosecutor Luis Araya notified his lawyer, Héctor Salazar, yesterday. The officer has been detained in the Pedro Montt prison annex since last Wednesday, when he was confronted with Spiniak. Aguilera is accused of having called by phone on February 4, 2002, to stop the police work at Spiniak's home, located in Santa María de Manquehue.

This was after private security personnel found the minor C.B., who claimed that he had escaped from a party at the businessman's house and that they had tried to rape him. After this report, First Corporal Luis Henríquez and Carabineros Juan Carlos Soto and Hernán Romero arrived at the residence.

Subsequently, Subiabre, who was in charge of the operation, arrived. The investigation revealed that upon learning of the police presence at the scene, Spiniak called businessman Jorge Rabié, his personal friend, in Chillán in the VIII Region.

The latter contacted Aguilera, Rabié's security chief, by phone so that he would intercede in favor of the owner of the Go Fitness gym. Rabié confessed through a judicial request that he did so because he was told that it was a report of "disturbing the peace." The new proceedings Aguilera's lawyer indicated that he appealed the prosecution to the Court Martial yesterday.

The professional will formally request new proceedings from Prosecutor Araya today. One of them is that Spiniak, Subiabre, his client, and former Colonel Claudio Jayo, who was initially accused of being the author of the call, be subjected to a lie detector test.

He asked for a technical voice recognition expert report to be carried out on Lieutenant Subiabre and his client. Those close to the case said that the prosecutor will authorize these proceedings. Marcos Subiabre's lawyer, Luis Sepúlveda, insisted that his client is innocent and that he spoke that day with Colonel (r) Jayo and not with Aguilera.

The lieutenant's defense requested release on bail, which was granted on Saturday by the prosecutor's office, after consultation with the Court Martial. The lawyers for Aguilera and Subiabre requested that the Court Martial resolve the matter as a matter of urgency. It only meets on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. By that day, at the latest, his situation would be clarified.

REMOVAL

CAUSE: Major (r) Aguilera was removed in 2000 for the 1984 death of Peruvian musician Percy Arana, who was shot on Avenida Matta during the curfew.

Source: El Mercurio, November 25, 2003

Percy Arana: The story of the young Peruvian singer who was murdered by the Chilean dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet

The promising future of the national artist was abruptly cut short by the regime of one of the harshest governments in this part of the world in the 20th century. Generally, a dictatorship represents a dark and harsh stage for the country that suffers it.

In Peru, we know a lot about that situation, since, for a good part of the 20th century, our country has been the victim of several "messiahs" who promised to improve things for the people, with the result being the exact opposite.

But other countries in this part of the world also suffered it. And although their victims were their own people, there was a case in which a Peruvian also died within a dictatorship that was not his own.

It is the singer Percy Arana, who was a victim of the military insanity that invaded Chile between 1973 and 1990, during the bloody regime of Augusto Pinochet. And this is the story of how the life and dreams of our compatriot were extinguished.

Youthful talent Percy Arana, a Peruvian musical promise, met a tragic end at the hands of the Chilean police in a fatal misunderstanding. Born in the Lima district of Lince on June 3, 1961, Percy Arana Saldaña demonstrated his talent for music from a very young age.

By the age of 15, he had already recorded his first album, and shortly after, he represented the country at the prominent OTI Song Festival, an event that resonated with the relevance of the Eurovision Festival in Europe.

By 1984, the Peruvian talent had undertaken an international tour that took him to Chile. He arrived in the neighboring country accompanied by his father, a figure who supported him in his growing artistic career.

The young singer's trajectory had attracted international attention, leading him to Chilean lands with the hope of further expanding his musical influence. Fatal night Thus arrived the fateful dawn of March 31, 1984.

After fulfilling an artistic commitment, Arana was traveling along Avenida Matta in Santiago. The tranquility of that night vanished suddenly when, without prior warning, some Carabineros (local police) opened fire on the vehicle transporting the singer.

Chaos broke out when the driver lost control, crashing into a tree. Disoriented and with his arms raised, Percy Arana got out of the car, trying to move away from the chaotic scene. However, the tragedy reached its climax when the police, mistakenly confusing him with an extremist, fired without mercy, hitting him in the back.

The Chilean Commission of Truth and Reconciliation, in its Rettig Report, documented that the death of Percy Arana Saldaña was the result of an excessive use of force, with bullet impacts and blows dealt by State agents.

Shockingly, Arana became the only Peruvian citizen to appear in said report, leaving an indelible mark on the history of relations between Peru and Chile. Crime with punishment After Augusto Pinochet left power in 1990, three Carabineros were convicted for the murder of Percy Arana.

Retired Major José Luis Aguilera Díaz and retired captains Carlos Garrido Aldunate and Patricio Zamora Rodríguez met their fate in the special prison of Punta Peuco, serving sentences for a crime that marked the transition to a new chapter in Chilean history.

And after several years, in 2007, the Chilean justice system issued an unprecedented ruling in its country, ordering the State to indemnify the relatives of Percy Arana with a sum of 100 million Chilean pesos, equivalent to about US$192,000.

The ruling, issued by Judge Juan Polanco, recognized the responsibility of the Executive in the moral reparation for Fabio Arana, the father of the deceased singer. After the news became known, the family's lawyer, Nelson Caucoto, expressed his satisfaction with the court's decision, describing it as "wonderful news." This ruling resonated as a late but significant act of justice.

The story of Percy Arana, marked by tragedy and the fight for the truth, continues to be a moving testimony to the complexities that can arise in international relations and the efforts to achieve justice, even long after the echoes of a tragic event have faded over time.

What happened in the Chilean dictatorship? The Chilean dictatorship, which lasted from September 11, 1973, to March 11, 1990, originated with the military coup led by General Augusto Pinochet. This event marked the end of the democratically elected government of Salvador Allende.

The political and social situation in Chile was marked by economic tensions and ideological polarization, which led to the coup and the establishment of an authoritarian regime. Pinochet's dictatorship was characterized by brutal political repression.

Mass arrests and detentions of political opponents, union members, and people considered dissidents were carried out. Many were subjected to political imprisonment and torture and extrajudicial executions.

In addition, censorship was implemented in the media, and political parties were dissolved. In the economic sphere, Pinochet adopted neoliberal policies, promoting a series of reforms that sought to liberalize the economy.

State companies were privatized, state intervention in the economy was reduced, and trade opening measures were implemented. Although these policies generated economic growth, they also increased inequality and had a negative impact on vulnerable sectors of society.

The systematic violation of human rights during the Chilean dictatorship was condemned internationally, and subsequent investigations and trials were carried out to hold those involved in abuses accountable.

The Valech Commission, established in 2003, documented and recognized the victims of political imprisonment and torture. The return to democracy in Chile materialized with the presidential elections of 1989, which brought Patricio Aylwin to power.

On March 11, 1990, Aylwin assumed the presidency, marking the official end of the dictatorship. The process of transition to democracy involved the drafting of a new Constitution and the establishment of measures to guarantee national reconciliation. Although Chile experienced a return to democracy, the scars of the dictatorship still linger in the country's collective memory.

Source: infobae.com, February 7, 2024