Val Chacon - Remembering Refuge in Britain 50 Years On

My name is Val Chacon, and I am a second-generation Chilean refugee who arrived in the UK at the age of 6 due to the Pinochet military dictatorship. Sadly, both of my parents are now deceased, and I attended this conference for personal reasons—to piece together fragments of my family's intense and convoluted history.

Our journey from Chile to Scotland after the coup, shaped my early life. We moved around frequently due to my father’s mining jobs, and in 1972, we ended up in Santiago, where he secured work in a factory. As trade union members and supporters of the popular unity government, both my father and my mother, experienced the disruptive impact of the 1973 coup. This led to my father's arrest and our family's eventual escape to Argentina, marked by a disturbing and bloody exit.

Marion Henriquez and Val before their departure from Argentina, 1976

In San Miguel, Argentina, we lived in an ex-convent refugee camp, suffering overcrowding and violent flare-ups. Our transition to the UK was disorientating, compounded by my mother's undiagnosed Aspergers, leaving much unexplained and adding to our perpetual disorientation. After weeks in various lodgings, including a boarded, burnt-out old house, we found a permanent home in dilapidated tenement buildings in Dundee.

Val and her brother outside the tenement buildings in Lochee, Dundee, 1978

Life in Lochee, Dundee, brought new challenges as we encountered racism and violence, including gang-victimisation in a racist, mono-cultural environment. Known as ‘Little Tipperary’ due to Irish migration, Lochee stood as one of the most deprived communities, not just in Dundee but across Scotland. Skinhead gangs controlled the housing schemes, leading to self-imposed curfews among Chileans and other minorities who were relentlessly attacked and abused.

My mother, Marion Henriquez, once a proud factory worker, endured racist abuse that shattered her confidence. The oppressive atmosphere in our damp tenement building led to years of poor health and escalating estate violence resulting in hospitalisations. In the midst of these hardships, I harboured resentment toward those involved in our resettlement, oblivious to the fact that it was not a centrally-run scheme, but, rather self-funded political groups undertaking the arduous task of individually knocking on council doors to secure accommodation for refugee families.

This conference not only enlightened me about the immense challenges faced by those aiding Chilean resettlement but also provided a platform to hear powerful personal testimonies from fellow-travellers. The unique atmosphere fostered a shared narrative and provided a natural form of restorative justice. Engaging in conversations with panel members and participants alike was profoundly moving.

On a personal note, as a non-partisan activist and writer, I was reminded of the critical roles that academia and the charity sector play in policy-advising. Support networks are vital not only for effective resettlement, but also for empowering refugees to actively engage in their communities.

Integration, as highlighted in this conference, is a serious endeavour requiring not just ideals but, in my view, comprehensive, cross-party collaboration tied into governmental resettlement schemes. It's a lifelong commitment to creating environments where refugees can deeply connect with, and contribute to their citizenship throughout their lives.

Reflecting on the discussions and insights shared during this conference, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to Tanya Harmer, Max Smith, and all the organizers. They provided a space that not only illuminated the historical backdrop of the Chilean coup, but also addressed the challenges of resettlement, sparking conversations crucial for fostering a more inclusive and compassionate society. Thank you for the opportunity to share and connect on this significant occasion.

Val at Harris Academy Secondary School, Dundee, 1982/3

 

Imogen Mark: Chile Fights and the Chile Solidarity Campaign

I worked as a volunteer in the UK Chile Solidarity Campaign (CSC) from September 1973 to late 1982, as editor of the campaign magazine, Chile Fights.  I had no qualifications for this work, except the dubious benefit of a degree in English literature. I had no Spanish, no knowledge of Chile or Latin America, scant political education outside a couple of years in the feminist movement.  All I knew about Chile was that in 1970 the then newly-elected Socialist president, Salvador Allende, had promised to give every child in the country a pair of shoes for Christmas. Straight out of a folk tale, I thought.

Some time later, I read about truck-drivers going on strike against the government and creating food shortages.  Then, suddenly, one September morning, it was planes bombing the presidential palace, the President dead, a military junta taking over. That month, at the language school where I taught, I had a class full of Latin American students, all anxious to discuss the coup in Chile. I knew there was a left-wing Chilean student in the school, and I wanted him to come and talk. But he was desperately trying to organise protest against the new regime, so I offered to let him use the school duplicating machine to run off flyers for the first demonstration in London that weekend. 

Long story short, I fell in love, with the student, and with the passion he brought to his cause.  We are still married, 50 years later, and living in Chile. But that is the other end of the story.

Getting organised: Chile Lucha and the CSC

After that first march to Trafalgar Square, an ad hoc group of activists formed around this student, Raúl Sohr, and we called ourselves Chile Lucha (Chile fights). Within a few months we became an organising centre for a dozen or so British people, several of whom had spent time in Chile during Popular Unity and were highly motivated to campaign against the military junta and for its victims.  

These “returnees” included Mike Gatehouse, who became general secretary of the Chile Solidarity Campaign (CSC), and Wendy Tyndale, who formed and ran the Chile Committee for Human Rights (CCHR). Both were independent activists, but we all worked closely together.  Mike and Wendy were both (badly) paid full-time workers for the two organisations; almost everyone else was a part-time volunteer. Gordon Hutchison was another reluctant returnee from Chile, who helped set up and run the Joint Working Group for Refugees, a few months later, receiving and resettling Chilean exiles. 

The CSC was an ad hoc alliance of the Labour party and the British Communist party, with the support of the main trade unions, and the small Trotskyist party, IMG. The CSC’s aim in the early months was to try to isolate the new Chilean regime, which the Conservative government of the day had swiftly recognised. The Tories had no sympathy with Allende’s ousted Popular Unity government, an alliance of Socialists and Communists and other small left-wing parties, who had been attempting a “peaceful road to socialism”.

The images of the coup - the bombing of the presidential palace, Allende’s violent death, the use of the biggest football stadium in Santiago as a prison and torture centre, - were disturbing. The regime had immediately suspended all political parties, left and right, banned the trade unions, and detained thousands of supporters of the previous government.  But the Tories could assume, if they were worried about it, and as their Chilean counterparts assured them, that these undemocratic measures were necessary to restore order and take control of the country, and were just for a few months, a year or two at most, and then there would be elections and a return to democracy.

The Chilean left, too, hoped at first that the military would not stay long. So the task of the international solidarity campaigns was to speed their departure by making business and political activity as hard as possible, to discourage foreign investment, trade and aid, and diplomatic activities. But it was soon clear that Pinochet and the junta were there to stay, and were strengthening their control through continuing political and physical repression. The campaign continued, aiming to deny them legitimacy and to publicise the killing and disappearance and torture of their opponents. But it also had to focus on trying to help the victims, and on campaigning for visas for refugees, many of them prisoners who were forced to choose between prison and exile.

The UK response

Surprisingly, given the general ignorance and lack of interest in Latin America at the time, the cause of Chile caught on in the British left. Partly it was a very clear story: a democratically elected government seeking peaceful change had been overthrown by a military coup. And surprisingly strong emotional support came from old memories in Britain of the Spanish civil war. I remember marching in a Chile demo beside the banner of a group of veterans who had fought in Spain in the 1930s. In 1974, General Franco was still alive, and good leftists and trade unionists still refused to take holidays in Spain. 

In March (1974), political conditions in the UK changed for the better for the Chile campaign, when the Conservative government was thrown out and the Labour party took office.  There were at least a dozen friendly Labour MPs who would support actions against the Pinochet regime – for example, successfully lobbying against renegotiating the terms for Chilean international debt. 

Dame Judith Hart, MP, who was minister for overseas development, re-purposed aid funds earmarked for the Chilean state into scholarships for Chilean refugees. One Labour MP, Eric Heffer, resigned as a junior minister in protest when his government decided to return two Chilean-owned submarines then in a British shipyard for repairs.  The trade unions played a key role with actions at grass roots levels, like boycotting work on the four Hawker Hunter plane engines in Scotland; and their leaders supported the campaigns.

Uniting Popular Unity

Immediately after the coup, a risk to a successful campaign was the disunity and infighting within the Chilean left, which had undermined the Popular Unity government and now threatened the solidarity movement.

The Chilean Communists and part of the Socialist party had been the promoters of the “peaceful road to socialism”, and they accused their own allies, the more radical wing of the Socialists and small parties like the MAPU and Christian Left, of “infantile leftism”, of organising factory and farm takeovers, for example, and so provoking the coup. These groups responded that their “reformist” opponents had failed to organise to prevent it.

After the coup those divisions split the solidarity movements in some countries. In France and Italy, for example, Chile committees sprang up in alignment with specific Chilean parties, whose leaders controlled them. But in Britain the handful of Chilean leftists who now found themselves in exile reached a key political agreement: to keep their disagreements out of the campaign. Neither side would blame the other, at least in public, and there would be one united solidarity movement. Further, the campaign would be headed and run by British people, responding to British political concerns and norms, and using familiar language. The Chilean leaders would stay in the background,

Incidentally, within British political circles, there were also apparently fears of splits, that Labour Party and Labour-affiliated trade union leaders might opt to form their own solidarity campaign, without the Communists. But this, too, was avoided.

A national network and “Chile Fights”

A large part of our work as volunteers was to go and talk at meetings organised by trade unions and student unions and local political party branches, explain what was happening in Chile, and persuade them to support the CSC. This meant financially, by affiliating and paying dues, and politically, by lobbying their own leaders and local MPs to support specific actions, such as giving visas or not buying Chilean-made goods.

In many towns, local activists formed local Chile committees which organised events and meetings. At the height of the campaign, around 1974-1977, this was a strong network of some 30 committees, and we held regular meetings around the UK to coordinate amongst ourselves.

We needed to spread the news of what different groups were doing, to share ideas and tactics, and also to provide news about what was happening in Chile.  And before the existence of social media, the only way to get the news out was to publish it yourselves. On paper.  

Very early on, we in the Chile Lucha group had decided to start a magazine. The first issue, - called Chile Lucha – appeared at the end of September 1973. It was a sober, professional newsletter-style format, four pages in black and white, few graphics, and the print run was maybe 400 copies.

The second issue went to another extreme. The front cover was a stark black star on a white background, with the words “chile lucha” and “solidaridad” (sic). The print run was 10,000.  When we tried to sell or even give it away, people would smile apologetically and say they didn’t speak Spanish.  The third issue swiftly became Chile Fights.  

Chile Fights became the official campaign magazine, and we at Chile Lucha worked most directly with Mike Gatehouse. For some time, he also ran a separate editorial project with its own team, the “Chile Monitor”, an occasional, duplicated newsletter.  Its task was analysis, not propaganda; it set out to show, for example, how the military’s free market policies were directly underpinned by the repression of the social and political movements.

Where did we get news from? In those days, long before the arrival of 24-hour news channels, there was far less international news in the general media. There was very occasional reporting, Richard Gott or Christopher Roper in The Guardian, Hugh O’Shaughnessy in the Financial Times. We shared news from other solidarity organisations, like NACLA and Nich in the US, and from Germany’s Chile Nachrichtung.  We would very occasionally see copies of Chile’s main newspaper, El Mercurio, with its version of events. We sometimes received direct accounts from Chile, in fuzzy carbon-copies of letters sent out by clandestine activists, mostly reporting raids on poor neighbourhoods, and the detentions and disappearances of militants.  Amnesty International workers would have similar reports to share. There was little or no news of resistance. 

Campaign coordination

As magazine editor I took part in the regular CSC executive committee meetings, where the different areas of the campaign reported and coordinated.  The trade union affiliates were represented by officials from the two biggest unions, TGWU and AUEW, and from the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM).  There was also a cultural committee which organised fund-raising concerts and other events.  

The Joint Working Group for Refugees (JWG) and the Chile Human Rights Campaign (CCHR), both independent organisations, sent their observers, who brought their concerns and campaigning issues. They in turn were in touch with, for example, Amnesty International, and the World University Service, (WUS), who worked on a much broader scale.  It was a remarkably flexible and effective network of organisations.  

Sometimes the campaigns were around specific issues, like trying to stop arms sales to the Chilean junta, under Margaret Thatcher’s government (1979). That would mean getting the CSC’s local Labour Party and trade union affiliates to lobby their MPs to raise or support questions in Parliament. Sometimes they were publicity campaigns, like calling for consumers to boycott Chilean fruit and shoes and wine. Activists would turn out to hand leaflets denouncing the junta to puzzled shoppers at Marks and Spencer.   

The magazine would run occasional reports on the banned trade unions trying to organise in Chile, and call for CSC union affiliates to make contact with Chilean counterparts – we could provide contacts. Or it would call for help for soup kitchens for Chilean school children, or for support for political prisoners. There was a constant effort to build connections between UK and Chilean organisations. This, remember, in the days before internet: communications were by letter, which could take weeks to arrive.  Long-distance phone calls were prohibitively expensive.  

The production of the magazine was laborious. The articles were written on manual typewriters, or even handwritten; for any substantial corrections, the pages were literally cut up and pasted onto a clean sheet. This copy was then typeset (re-typed in columns on an electric typewriter), to produce clean, printable pages. These were cut up and pasted onto a design sheet. Fiona Macintosh, the designer, would struggle with the earnest writers and editor (me), to cut down the word count to allow space for graphics. Headlines in larger, or even different type faces had to be transferred from sheets of Letraset (thankfully, a lost technology). 

The final sheets would be packed up and sent by train to Nottingham, to the friendly Russell Press, to be printed, folded, stapled and sent back to the CSC office in Seven Sisters Road, to be packaged up and taken to the post office to send out to local committees and affiliates to distribute and sell – or even read.  What child of the internet can begin to imagine spending so much time, so much physical effort on publishing?

Moving out to Latin America   

From the first issues to the last, in 1983, the magazine content gradually broadened to include news of other Latin American countries. With the 1976 coup in Argentina, the Chile Lucha group and others helped form an Argentine support group, which plugged into the Chile network. I was also working by then at Latin American Newsletters (LAN), a specialist publication, and had access to far more news sources about the region. In 1979 came the revolution in Nicaragua, and Chile Fights covered events in Central America, and US policy in the region under the Reagan government.  The 1982 Falklands/Malvinas conflict was another big issue in the magazine, relating as it did directly to UK relations and policies towards Latin America.   

But from 1979 onwards, the Chile campaign was winding down. A number of CSC activists from different parts of the UK went off as volunteers to support the Sandinista revolution, and also to projects in Bolivia, Peru and other parts of South America. Others went to work, often in the field, in aid agencies like Christian Aid, War on Want and Oxfam. These “Chile veterans” brought a strong political and social, and practical, focus to their work. It’s probably fair to say they marked these agencies for at least a generation.  

We went on producing Chile Fights until (I think) 1983. Today the internet and all its platforms have transformed our access to news, and the distribution of all kinds of communications. I can’t imagine anyone would dream of producing a physical, printed publication. But working in the Chile campaign and learning journalism and politics on the job was an extraordinary experience, one that literally changed my life, and the lives of all of us who met and worked together and formed lifelong friendships as a result of those few, intense years.

Imogen Mark, Santiago, October 2023.

Julio Etchart: Photojournalism of Resistance

Photojournalist Julio Etchart left his native Uruguay after his release from detention by the military authorities who suspended Congress in 1973 and remained in control until 1985. After studying documentary photography in Newport, Wales, and working with, amongst others, the Guardian and the Observer, Julio was sent to Chile on a number of occasions to document the situation under the regime of General Pinochet, who had deposed the Socialist president Salvador Allende in a military coup on 11 September 1973. Working as a journalist in Chile had its inherent dangers since the regime tried to suppress all forms of dissent and attempted to keep the foreign press at bay as much as possible. While in the UK, Julio had made contact with many Chilean exiles living in Britain who gave him invaluable contacts inside the country that helped him to carry out his work there.

International Women's Day in March 1985 proved a small turning point in the struggle against the dictatorship, when brave women defied a curfew and went out to protest against the regime, calling for political detainees to be released. Though they were beaten back by rubber bullets, tear gas and water cannon, Julio's images, that appeared in the international press following these incidents, brought the country back onto the news agenda.

Amnesty International commissioned Julio to produce an exhibition of images to draw attention to the situation in Chile and now, on the 50th anniversary of the coup, his pictures are a reminder of the years of resistance against Pinochet’s brutal regime.

You can see more of Julio’s pictures of Chile on his website.

Ana María Pelusa: Remembering Refuge and Resistance in Britain

In this excerpt of an extended interview with Tanya Harmer for Displaced Voices journal, Ana María Pelusa remembers what it was like to arrive as a refugee in Britain and how she got involved in resistance and feminist organisations here in the UK. The full interview will be published as part of a “Documenting Chile” Special Issue of Displaced Voices on 23 September.

We came to England with the clothes that we had in our back. Not even a pair of socks or not even a coat, just with the clothes that we did have, on our back…I didn't speak a word of English. I only went to five years of primary school and I got my secondary licence as a free student when I was 28 years of age…At the airport they were asking us, who are you? What do you want? But nobody could understand. So, my children said, Mummy, what did they say? And I said, they are saying that you have to go and sit down over there because it's going to take us some time to get out of here. And I say that because I realised that if my children knew that I was so lost, their own sense of security was going to be so threatened that they were going to be affected by that. So, my only way to protect them was to pretend that, yes, I understand, but you have to wait. So that's what I did, just to protect them. And I arrived here in England and I was sent to a hostel outside London in Camberley, next to Virginia Water, where Pinochet was [later under] house arrest, and my children were put in a school, they were registered at school and I was sent a couple of days, one day a week, to have some English classes. But the teacher spoke Spanish, so it was very little that I could learn.

 

A few months later, I was given a flat here in London. And as I say, my English was absolutely, almost non existent. I could read by then. I had learned how to read English, but I couldn't speak English and I could understand what people were saying, but I couldn't for the life of me reply properly. And I was in my flat for about eight months, feeling sorry for myself, I guess, feeling really, really depressed, because I thought about my family, my friends, my comrades and the situation that was happening back at home. And I was in a safer place and I had food on my table every day while my people back there were suffering such horrendous conditions. So, one day I was just crying in my front room and I used to talk to myself all the time. So, I said to myself, Pelusa, do you feel sorry for what is happening? Then do something! Get out of the seat and go and denounce what is happening in Chile. You don't know how to do it? Fine, find a way. But you have to get out of here and you have to do something to help our people back there.

 

So from that day on, I went out and I bought…Timeout magazine that had fringe meetings [listed]. In those days, all the fringe meetings were free and everywhere and they were talking about women and these women and that, etcetera. So, I decided well, I will join all these meetings about women. And I went and I listened…and I said ahh I know what they are talking about, so okay, excuse me, I want to speak. I am Chilean. And in my very broken English, I am Chilean. I am a refugee. In my country…my women are suffering because this and the other…and we need your solidarity. We need you to support us and we need you to denounce what is happening. And the women were so patient to listen because my English was absolutely...Tarzan was speaking better English than me in those days.

 

But that was the situation. And I started going from one meeting to another meeting to another meeting and gradually I got involved with the women’s movement. At the start, I didn't understand that as a woman I had issues myself. But gradually I started learning from going to so many meetings and from trying to link that struggle with the struggle of the women back at home and with the struggle of my people. That's how I got involved.

 

And then gradually we created here an organisation of Chileans that was called Chile Democrático. And I started organising the Chilean women from north to south of Great Britain and trying to discuss feminist issues with them, but at the same time trying to help them with their own issues, with their own problems, [including] personal problems with their children. They couldn't speak English, so we needed to try to find [a way to help them] speak English, and the children as well, because some of them arrived here, so they were speaking English, but they didn't speak Spanish. So we had to organise a school to teach them Spanish. And we had two schools here in London, one in the south, one in the north. One was Escuela Amanecer in the south [in Deptford]. In the north El Niño Luchin around Highbury and Islington…So that's what we did. I had to organise that because I was the chairperson of Chilean women’s Organisation, so we had to organise that.

Ruth Aedo-Richmond - Kingston-Upon-Hull: Memories of a City of Refuge

Prologue, Exiliados Chilenos en Hull: Experiencia de dos generaciones ed. Ruth Aedo-Richmond (2022)

I would like to take this opportunity to provide some reminders to stimulate the memory of each and all of us. Let me begin by reminding you of our problem of adapting to Hull, a place utterly unknown to us. These difficulties began with our arrival. For those who arrived in winter, the long and dark days in Hull were horrible. The nights seemed an eternity: we hardly saw any daylight. Added to this was the cold weather, with incessant rain, with strong, biting winds which made walking a struggle, requiring us to hold on to something or someone so as not to fall down.

The exception was the summers of 1975 and 1976, when temperatures rose to almost 30 degrees. The days seemed endless and, after finishing our work for the day at the university, we really enjoyed going to the beach, though there were more pebbles than sand. Close to Hull were the beaches of Hornsea, Bridlington, Scarborough and Whitby. One summer we were invited by John and Constance Saville to their summer place in Staithes. During those two years, we thought we had arrived in paradise. Of course, those two summers were never repeated again. In the case of other summers, there was a week of heat and sunshine which always tended to coincide exactly with the schedule of examinations, and then the rest of the weeks were cloudy, cold, rainy and windy.

For all of us, finding a house was a great challenge. Landlords placed many obstacles before us, being foreigners and having children. On the other hand, the services provided by local doctors, dentists, consultants, and hospitals, including medicines, were all free, which was astonishing for us. The National Health Service was a British jewel. We can say the same for the educational system, with local schools receiving all the children living close by. Primary and secondary schooling was totally free. The school day began at 9.00 and continued until 3.30 for the little ones and until 4.00 for the older children. In primary school, children were provided with school materials and in middle school and secondary school children received textbooks for each subject. All of this was unbelievable for us.

Perhaps one of the most important events in Hull which coincided with our time there was the construction and opening of the Humber Bridge. At that moment, it was the longest single-span bridge in the world, crossing the wide River Humber and its muddy shores. When we were approaching Hull, it seemed like it was the sea given how wide the river was. Talking about arriving in Hull by train, which is how all of us arrived in the city, how can we ever forget Paragon Station? It was somewhat gloomy and very cold, especially if we arrived in winter. However, everything changed when Spring arrived in Hull; it was beautiful, with streets full of flowers: snowdrops, crocuses, tulips, daffodils and summer roses. We can all remember how green and well cared for were the verges of the city’s streets.

If we were going to Beverley, we immediately entered the green countryside surrounding Hull. All this made us forget the long, dark winters. We can also remember the cream-coloured telephone kiosks in Hull, different from the red ones elsewhere in Britain. There are some names which summon memories for all of us, such as Cottingham Road, Chanterlands Avenue, Princes Avenue, Pearson Park, Queen’s Gardens, and the small market town of Beverley, with its imposing Minster and the marvellous Beverley Westwood. We also should not forget Hessle foreshore, where we used to go to view the enormous Humber Bridge, which was a compulsory place to take relatives from Chile when they came to visit us.

I believe, however, that the most important place in our lives in Hull after our homes was Hull University. Its marvellous nursery, a paradise for our little children, is something which stirs fond memories within us. The University became our second home because every week we used to spend around eight hours each day there, with tutorials, lectures, and the Students’ Union, where we usually organised our Chilean ‘social evenings’. But our favourite place was the library, with its seven floors, the carrels and the inter-library loan service. The library was a delight for all of us. It was marvellous.

Well, dear friends, I think this will bring a sense of yearning to all of you concerning the good and difficult times that we spent in Hull.

Susan Carstairs (Edinburgh Chile Solidarity Group, 1973-74, Chile Committee for Human Rights, 1974-79, World University Service, 1979-1991)

In winter of 1973 I joined a small group that meet at Edinburgh University to discuss the coup and steps we might take. We were a motley crew, an elderly Edinburgh academic, a working class Scottish PhD student studying Maoism, a German Chilean student who had suddenly found himself in exile and heading the Scottish branch of the Chilean MAPU, a young Scottish woman Communist Party member, another young woman from the Home Counties who was moved by human rights abuses and myself recently graduated from Cambridge and keen to save the world. During the next year we mounted an exhibition at the Edinburgh Festival, received refugees sent up from London, visited Rosyth dockyard to meet striking engineering workers and attended a national conference in Birmingham.

In the autumn I moved to London to work but gave up the job at the end of the year to work full time at the Chile Committee for Human Rights from January 1974 to 1979. CCHR was set up with the idea of maximizing support for Chile by appealing to those committed to human rights aspects of the events rather than those committed to the political goals of the Allende government, though there was of course substantial overlap between the two. There were two of us in the office, myself and Wendy Tyndale who more or less created the project, recruiting a list of sponsors including Archbishop Ramsay, Harold Pinter, Peggy Ashcroft, Stanley Clinton-David MP, Lord Avebury, Russell Johnston MP, Eric Heffer MP. We developed a network of members round the country, some individuals, some trade union branches, some church groups, some specific CCHR groups and some Chile Solidarity groups.  We supported members with a newsletter on developments in Chile, organized meetings to discuss the situation. We shamelessly copied Amnesty in asking groups to adopt political prisoners and to write pressing for their release. In 1975 the Chilean government passed Decree Law 504 which allowed prisoners to exchange their sentence for exile and this increased the numbers arriving. We were not directly responsible for reception of refugees but invited them to talk to us about their experiences which were recorded and sent to the UN Commission for Human Rights in Geneva. Financially we lived on small grants from charities such as Christian Aid, Cafod and Oxfam supplemented by fund raising through concerts and a flag day.  We ran out of money at one point but it didn’t occur to us to stop working and I remember going to the Camden employment centre to sign on with my briefcase on my way to work.

Wendy visited Chile and produced a booklet “Chile Under the Military Regime” and we later produced another booklet “Women in Chile”. As well as campaigns for individual prisoners we encouraged people to lobby the government to increase provision for refugees and, more controversially, to refuse the military government the right to extend loans on national debt through what was known as the Club of Paris. The Labour Government that took power in 1975 headed by Harold Wilson was very sympathetic to the Chilean cause and Judith Hart at ODA approved a scheme to offer scholarships to Chilean refugees as part of the work to train professionals and academics for the future development of the country. David Owen at the Foreign Office and Michael Meacher at the Dept of Trade were lobbied with delegations made up of trade unionists. We went to the Chilean Embassy with Trevor Huddleston and Mgr. We campaigned for the many thousands of disappeared detainees with an emphasis on William Beausire, an anglo Chilean citizen who was detained in Argentina in 1975 and never found. We raised the profile of Colonia Dignidad, a German institution in the south of Chile thought to have acted as a centre for torture and detention following the coup. We organised publicity for Sheila Cassidy when she was released from detention in Chile in 1975 and a speaking tour for Pastor Helmut Frenz who was expelled from Chile following activities to promote the ecumenical human rights movement.

In 1979 I went to work for WUS where there was a team of about 10 people managing the Chile scholarship programme. My role was to prepare financial reports and assist with the annual negotiations with ODA about budget requirements. Additionally I was involved in activities of the students. Chilean exiles had established a number of working groups on topics such as Economics and Health to meet together with a view to preparing for an eventual return to Chile. In the 1980s we began support for returnees and were able to support people financially for the first six months with a small stipend. This was arranged through contacts in Chile. Following the coup many of those expelled from the University established small research centres, supported by foreign funding as a way of keeping alive an independent intellectual life. Applicants for return were asked to come forward with a proposal for research that they wanted to carry out and to contact an institute to work with. It was a good programme that allowed people to return to active engagement with the society. From 1983 I spent two or three months in Chile each year in connection with the administration of this programme until 1991. Following the plebiscite in 1988 when the people voted to end the military regime, the movement back to democracy became stronger and faster until the 1990 return of a democratically elected government.