Michelle Bachelet

In the April 28, 2008 TIME magazine profile of Michelle Bachelet as one of the world's 100 most influential people of 2008, Hillary Clinton writes:

When I heard that Michelle Bachelet — a doctor who devoted her life to helping the people of Chile, a daughter who lost her father to the violent regime of Augusto Pinochet and a leader who experienced personally the brutality of dictatorship but never lost hope in the people of her nation or the promise of democracy — was running for the presidency of Chile, I was enthralled.

This was a woman who had overcome so much herself, rising to become Health Minister and then Defense Minister — the first woman in Latin America to ever hold such a post. And I remember thinking how wonderful it would be for a woman to break through yet another barrier — and to help her country break through barriers too.

When we met in January 2005 during her campaign, she spoke with deep passion and even deeper expertise on the challenges facing her nation, from modernizing the military to modernizing the health-care system. I had been very eager to finally speak with her in person. Being a woman in politics can be tough business, and Bachelet made it look effortless. In our meeting, I learned why: because Bachelet, 56, speaks and leads from her heart. She won, of course.

In Chile, Argentina, Liberia, Germany and around the world, women are not only blazing new trails but bringing others along as well. In every country, on every continent — in places where women are soaring to new heights, and in places where too many women remain second-class citizens — women and men can draw inspiration from leaders like Bachelet, leaders with grace and courage, leaders who never give up and never give in.

Count me among the inspired.

Pinochet's Long Goodbye

In the December 15, 2006 TIME article Pinochet's Long Goodbye," Cristóbal Edwards reports on the life and death of Augusto Pinochet:

Last Saturday, two of Chile's top soccer teams met in the semifinal of a national competition. More than 30,000 fans went to the stadium; most cheered Colo-Colo's 3-0 victory, but Cobreloa supporters grieved and stood by their team. The crowds that poured onto the streets of Santiago the following day in response to the death of Gen. Augusto Pinochet, 91, were similarly divided: Some mourned an adored "savior of Chile from Marxism"; others celebrated the passing of a ruthless dictator who ruled with an iron fist from 1973 to 1990. In death, as in life, Pinochet divided Chileans, although not evenly. Supporters, who see him a good soldier and patriot who saved Chile from the chaos of its socialist experiment and laid the foundations of today's prosperity, are in the minority — comprising as much as 20% according to polls. The vast majority remember Pinochet for the thousands of murders, disappearances and instances of torture for which his regime was responsible.

The number of people who attended the funeral on Wednesday — about 30,000 — surprised many in Chile. Most were from sectors that benefited in some way from the dictatorship, such as the military, business and landowning communities. But they mourned for days, lining up patiently to pay their respects over a casket draped by a Chilean flag, in which the general lay in dress uniform, his sword nearby.

The crowds celebrating his passing last Sunday turned out mostly in downtown Santiago and in the capital's poorer neighborhoods, where police used tear gas to disperse violent protestors. During Tuesday's funeral, about 3,000 opponents gathered outside La Moneda presidential palace to honor Salvador Allende, the socialist president overthrown by Pinochet and the armed forces on Sept. 11, 1973. Allende committed suicide while the palace was bombed by the air force on that day. Many expressed anger that Pinochet had escaped justice, never facing a trial on any of the approximately 400 suits filed against him for human rights violations. The former dictator was also under investigation for allegations of tax evasion and illegitimate money appropriation.

Pinochet died at a moment when the democratically elected government in Chile is led by the same party he overthrew in 1973; President Michele Bachelet suffered torture at the hands of the regime and her father was assassinated by its agents. The government refused the former dictator a state funeral on the grounds that he was never legitimately a head of state; it argued that a military funeral was appropriate for a former head head of the armed forces. That angered Pinochet's family and supporters, and many mourners jeered at the arrival of the only government representative, defense minister Vivianne Blanlot. They also interrrupted the funeral mass many times with cheers and chants, waved flags and white handkerchiefs, and applauded furiously every time Pinochet was lauded.

One speaker went too far for the government: The general's grandson, 33-year old army captain Augusto Pinochet Molina, praised his grandfather as a head of state who defeated Marxism, and criticized the courts for persecuting him. Captain Pinochet was discharged the following day after the government copmlained. President Bachelet gave the official response, expressing the hope that Pinochet's death symbolizes the end of "a period of division, hatred and violence in the country."

After a funeral ceremony characterized by military ritual and occasional shouts of protest against the government, Pinochet's remains were transported by helicopter to the coastal town of Concón, north of Valparaíso, where the general was born in 1915. After a private cremation ceremony, his ashes were taken to the family's farm in Los Boldos, 87 miles southwest of Santiago, where, the family hopes, they will be safe from the scorn of his enemies.

The day after Pinochet's funeral, Colo-Colo played another soccer game, this time against Mexico's Pachuca. More than 70,000 people watched the local team lose 2-1, their passionate loyalty undiminished by the defeat. The response of Pinochet supporters will likely be the same, even though most Chileans believe he died in disgrace after losing his own game.

Pinochet's Fall From Power

In the October 17, 1988 TIME article "Chile Fall of the Patriarch," John Greenwald and Laura Lopez explain Augusto Pinochet's fall from power:

"He fell! He fell!"

For 15 years General Augusto Pinochet Ugarte, 72, has held Chile in his proud and dictatorial grasp -- once even boasting that "there is not a single leaf in this country that I do not move." So why shouldn't he have believed that Chileans would vote si last week in an extraordinary plebiscite on whether to extend his presidential term to 1997? But shortly before 2 a.m. on Thursday, an ashen-faced official stepped from La Moneda, the presidential palace in Santiago, and headed for a nearby government building. There he told TV viewers that the public had said no to the extension. The final tally, with 7.2 million votes cast: 54.7% to 43%. Despite the hour, several hundred jubilant demonstrators sounded car horns in the capital and howled delightedly, "He fell! He fell!"

The vote was a turning point on Chile's long road back to a nearly 150-year tradition of democracy, which was toppled in the 1973 coup that brought Pinochet to power. Since ousting the elected, but floundering, government of Marxist President Salvador Allende Gossens, Pinochet has led a military junta that routinely uses terror to enforce its will. Deep scars remain from a 1973-76 antileftist purge in which tens of thousands of Chileans were exiled, tortured or executed. Meanwhile, the politically explosive gulf between rich and poor has steadily grown wider. "We broke an authoritarian system," said Ricardo Lagos, president of the Party for Democracy, one of the 16 groups that made up the Command for the No, which led the campaign to defeat Pinochet. "Now our work is to reconstruct a democratic system."

The vote will not transform Chile overnight. If presidential elections are held as scheduled in December 1989, Pinochet, who has already headed the country longer than any other leader, would retain power at least until March 1990. He can also remain commander of the army until 1995. Whenever the voting does take place (opposition leaders have pressed for an earlier date), Chile's traditionally fractious parties will have to agree on a field that allows the winner to emerge with enough support to govern.

For his part, Pinochet vowed not to go quietly. Wearing a crisp dress-white uniform, the general accepted "the verdict of the majority" but pledged "to complete my mandate with a patriotic sense." He buttressed the point by refusing to accept the resignation of his 16-member Cabinet, which then agreed to stay.

Pinochet's defiance produced a bizarre pattern of dancing and rioting in the streets. Police fired tear gas and water cannons at some antigovernment protesters in two days of clashes that left dozens wounded and two people dead. More than 20 foreign journalists were among the injured. On Friday hundreds of thousands of Chileans celebrated the no vote with a joyous rally in Santiago. Singing and swaying to music by popular groups, they called on Pinochet to step down.

The dictator hardly expected to lose the plebiscite when, in 1980, he pushed through a constitution that mandated the vote. Eager to gain democratic legitimacy, Pinochet expected a booming economy to buoy his popularity throughout the decade. But a 1982 crash ended that hope, and the subsequent recovery benefited wealthy landowners, bankers and multinational companies, while Chile's slums sank deeper into squalor. By the start of 1988, the failure of the country's growing riches to spread to the middle and lower classes had festered into a key campaign issue. The divide had a further impact: it strengthened such radical factions as the Manuel Rodriguez Patriotic Front, a Communist splinter group that killed five of Pinochet's bodyguards in a 1986 assassination attempt. The army replied with a wave of reprisals that further alienated many Chileans.

With the plebiscite approaching, Pinochet lifted a 15-year state of emergency in August and allowed 500 exiles to return to the country. They found a more subtle form of repression. Instead of censoring the press, for example, the regime responded to articles it did not like by jailing reporters and publishers. While labor unions are now permitted, leaders who call for industry-wide strikes risk banishment. Last February a U.S. human-rights report noted at least 100 cases of torture in 1987 by Chilean security forces.

Pinochet also miscalculated the resolve of Chile's opposition parties. Though it had barely seemed possible, long-squabbling groups ranging from the right-wing National Party to the leftist Almeyda Socialists flocked together under the anti-Pinochet banner. They took the lead in registering an astounding 92% of Chile's eligible voters, though critics cautioned that some government sympathizers might have signed under different names to swell the si tally. Meantime, the no forces used newly granted access to TV studios to launch tuneful and compelling spots. The regime, by contrast, relied on stolid footage of factories and roads or warnings of a return to the chaos and violence of the Allende years.

Though he lagged in most of the polls, Pinochet still expected victory. But his eleventh-hour emergence as a baby kisser in civilian dress could not improve his chances. Nor could numerology sway the final outcome: deeply superstitious, Pinochet held the plebiscite on Oct. 5 apparently because five is his lucky number.

Within the government the vote immediately shifted the balance of power away from Pinochet. "I think the armed forces will treat Pinochet delicately for the moment," said a Western diplomat in Santiago. "They might gently insist on a more collegial relationship within the junta." But the military too was wounded by the vote. Known as "the last Prussian army" for its aloofness from the rest of society, the army considers the fall of its leader to be a personal defeat. That could make the armed forces sullen and defensive in coming months.

The opposition is clearly taking no chances on offending the army and triggering a possible coup. During the campaign, political leaders agreed to withdraw TV spots that showed carabinero security forces beating citizens. In return, police provided protection for opposition rallies and marches. Yet such fragile alliances could easily be shattered by embarrassing demands. For example, most opposition groups want to prosecute the military for human- rights violations. But moderate parties are willing to overlook old abuses in exchange for assurances that new ones will not occur.

Pinochet nevertheless emerged from last week's ballot in a relatively strong position. By winning 43% of the vote, he showed broader popular appeal than opposition polls had indicated -- a considerable achievement for a dictator after 15 years in power. Said Labor Minister Alfonso Marquez de la Plata: "The plebiscite was a personal triumph for the President and an electoral defeat for his collaborators. It's a clear demonstration that he enjoys a great deal of civilian support."

Perhaps. For now, the key issue remains the timing of presidential elections. A quick ballot could even help the government by allowing it to support a single candidate before the opposition can produce a strong field. A long delay, on the other hand, could unravel the opposition's recent unity. But such concerns seemed remote to exultant Chileans last week. In the fall of a ruthless patriarch, the country caught a happy glimpse of both its democratic past and its possible future.