http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/29/opinion/sunday/student-protests-rile-chile.html?ref=general&src=me&pagewanted=all

Just Don’t Call Her Che
By WILLIAM MOSS WILSON
Published: January 28, 2012 
Santiago, Chile 

Enlarge This Image
 
Victor Ruiz Caballero for The New York Times
Camila Vallejo Dowling, vice president of the Student Federation of the 
University of Chile. 

LATE last month the British newspaper The Guardian asked readers to vote for 
its person of the year. The candidates included household names like German 
Chancellor Angela Merkel, the Egyptian techno-revolutionary Wael Ghonim and the 
Burmese pro-democracy leader Daw Aung San Suu Kyi. All placed far behind a 
striking, nose-ringed student from Chile named Camila Vallejo. 

Though far from a familiar face in the United States, the 23-year-old Ms. 
Vallejo has gained rock-star status among the global activist class. Since June 
she has led regular street marches of up to 200,000 people through Santiago’s 
broad avenues — the largest demonstrations since the waning days of the 
Pinochet regime in the late 1980s. Under her leadership, the mobilization, 
known as the Chilean Winter, has gained nationwide support; one of its slogans, 
“We are the 90 percent,” referred to its approval rating in late September. 

Ms. Vallejo’s charismatic leadership has led commentators to make the 
obligatory comparisons to other Latin American leftist icons like Subcomandante 
Marcos and Che Guevara. Yet “Commander Camila,” as her followers call her, has 
become a personality in her own regard. She skewers senators in prime-time TV 
debates and stays on message with daytime talk-show hosts hungry for lurid 
details about her personal life, while her eloquence gives her a preternatural 
ability to connect with an audience far beyond her left-wing base. 

In perhaps the most poignant set piece in the year of the protester, Ms. 
Vallejo addressed a dense ring of photographers and reporters in August while 
kneeling within a peace sign made of spent tear-gas shells, where she calmly 
mused about how many educational improvements could have been bought with the 
$100,000 worth of munitions at her feet. 

Ms. Vallejo, like many of her fellow student leaders, is an avowed communist. 
But while she has publicly commended other regional leftists like Presidents 
Evo Morales of Bolivia and Rafael Correa of Ecuador, she and her generation 
have little in common with the older left of Fidel Castro or Hugo Chávez. They 
are less ideological purists than change-seeking pragmatists, even if that 
means working within the existing political order. 

Still, there’s no question that the movement is upending Chilean society. True, 
it is centered on a policy question, namely reforming an educational system 
that disproportionally favors the children of wealthy families. But the 
earth-shaking Paris protests in 1968 also began with calls for university 
reform — before spiraling into street battles between radicalized students and 
truncheon-wielding gendarmes, opposing symbols in the culture war between old 
and new France. 

The same process is under way in Chile. As the protests increasingly devolve 
into rock and tear-gas exchanges between students and the police, it’s becoming 
clear that more than education policy is at stake: a nonviolent social 
revolution in which disaffected, politically savvy youth are trying to 
overthrow the mores of an older generation, one they feel is still tainted by 
the legacy of Pinochet. It is not just about policy reform, but also about 
changing the underlying timbers of Chilean society. 

It’s no surprise that the movement should be led by someone as charismatic as 
Ms. Vallejo. Paris 1968 had its celebrity protesters, handsome faces that 
brought hundreds of thousands into the streets, photogenic young men like 
Jacques Sauvageot and Daniel Cohn-Bendit. Chile has Ms. Vallejo. 

Chile is perhaps Latin America’s greatest success story. After decades of 
authoritarian rule, it has spent the last 20 years building a thriving economy 
with a renewed democratic culture and a booming, educated middle class. But it 
is also confronting a dangerous imbalance: While the liberalization of higher 
education has led to improvements in access, tuition has consistently outpaced 
inflation and now represents 40 percent of the average household’s income. 

At the same time, protesters say that wealthy students from private and 
expensive, co-pay charter schools have unfair access to elite universities, 
while the rest struggle to meet entrance standards at under-financed public 
institutions. 

Criticism of the university system has been growing for years, but it was only 
in April that, energized by protests against a dam in Patagonia, students 
finally took to the streets. The protests grew over the winter; by the first 
press conference held by the national confederation of student unions, known as 
the Confech, Ms. Vallejo had emerged as its leader. 

Echoing 1960s street activism, the Chilean Winter dabbled in the absurd, but 
with a high-tech, social-media twist. Thousands gathered in front of the 
presidential palace in June dressed as zombies, then broke into a choreographed 
dance to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” In July, students again gathered in 
front of the palace for a huge “kiss-in.” 

Though the ideas came, said Giorgio Jackson, former student president of 
Chile’s Catholic University, from “everywhere, absolutely every local space,” 
the movement’s success hinged on the leadership’s ability to channel such 
creativity while maintaining a unified front to government and the media. The 
organization used a Web site to gather ideas and disseminate content for 
placards and posters. And it has used Ms. Vallejo’s 300,000-plus Twitter 
followers to quickly initiate huge “cacerolazos,” a form of dictatorship-era 
protest where people walk the streets banging on pots and pans. 

While they vow to continue until all their lofty demands are met, the students 
have already scored some political victories. The government’s proposed 2012 
budget has a $350 million increase for higher education, with promises to 
finance scholarships for qualifying students from families up to the 60th 
percentile in household income. Meanwhile, the year began with the naming of 
Chile’s third education minister in six months. 

It was only a matter of time, perhaps, before the movement’s focus on education 
began to broaden. As more support for the movement came from outside the 
universities, its interests changed accordingly. “This year we have already 
started talking about political reforms and tax reforms, and we think the 
students and youth in general play an important role in profound reforms in the 
country,” said Noam Titelman, the new student president at Catholic University. 

Tax reform is, not coincidentally, now at the top of the government’s agenda. 
And rightly so: though it has the largest economy in Latin America, Chile is 
the 13th most unequal country in the world. 

“Something very powerful that has come out of the heart of this movement is 
that people are really questioning the economic policies of the country,” Ms. 
Vallejo said. “People are not tolerating the way a small number of economic 
groups benefit from the system. Having a market economy is really different 
from having a market society. What we are asking for, via education reform, is 
that the state take on a different role.” 

The movement has also begun to spread regionally. Ms. Vallejo lent her star 
power to Brazilian student protests in August, while in November students 
demonstrated in France, Germany and several other countries in support of 
Confech’s Latin American March for Education. 

“The student movement here is permanently connected to other student movements, 
principally in Latin America, but also in the world,” Ms. Vallejo said. “We 
believe this reveals something fundamental: that there is a global demand for 
the recovery and defense of the right to education.” 

But the students clearly have a lot to learn about real-world politics. Ms. 
Vallejo and other student leaders spent weeks lobbying in Parliament, only to 
be left out of the final budget negotiations. 

Frustration with Ms. Vallejo’s strategy propelled a rival leftist, Gabriel 
Boric, to challenge her in the latest round of student-government elections. On 
Dec. 7, national TV news crews lingered past 5 a.m. outside the University of 
Chile to cover a stunning defeat for the world’s most famous student leader. 

Yet even in her early-morning concession speech, Ms. Vallejo claimed victory, 
recognizing that the movement was greater than any one figure. Indeed, her rise 
has barely broken stride. She just left for a speaking tour in Europe, while 
her first book, a collection of her speeches and essays from the last year, is 
rising through the best-seller ranks. And she is being heavily courted by the 
Communist Party to run at the top of its list for the Chilean Congress in the 
2013 elections. 

For all its recent stumbles, the movement’s prospects of getting a woman under 
26 elected to Congress would help fulfill one of its underlying aims, to kindle 
young people’s interest in traditional politics. This may be Ms. Vallejo’s 
greatest contribution: to restore faith in a discredited system by showing a 
new generation that politics can be responsive to the people’s demands. 


William Moss Wilson is a freelance journalist based in Chile.


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