A protestor in My Imaginary Country (TIFF)

Chile holds a special place in the leftist imagination in America. The coup (perhaps orchestrated by the CIA) that overthrew socialist president Salvador Allende in 1973 resulted in a dictatorship led by General Augusto Pinochet. This history is something that most American leftists know well. But over the last few years, the people of Chile have written a new chapter in their history, one that is captured by director Patricio Guzmán in his latest documentary, My Imaginary Country.

Guzmán is the perfect filmmaker to tell this story as he previously documented the tumultuous political events of 1973 in his 1970s series, The Battle of Chile. His new documentary brings the revolution, which started in October 2019, to viewers who may not have been aware of just how radical and successful the people of Chile have been in their uprising. Their victory in rewriting the national Constitution is no small thing, and it should be as well-known as Chile’s dark history of 1973. Despite this new constitution having some electoral setbacks in recent weeks, it is still an impressive victory and an inspiring example of how protests brought it about.

Chile’s uprising was thoroughly informed by quantifiable conditions and economic realities—students forced into crippling debt, banks that wouldn’t give loans, grandparents having to subsist on meager pensions. On October 18, 2019, the state raised subway fares by 30 pesos, and in response, Chileans throughout the capital of Santiago revolted. A seemingly small action, but it was one step too far, and the people decided en masse that they were not going to take it anymore. The film features some great footage of this subway uprising, with the people chanting in unison: “Fare dodging is another way of fighting! If you don’t jump [the turnstile], you’re a cop!” Demonstrations escalated quickly after this, with protesters setting subway stations and train cars ablaze. The state called in the army.

Guzmán says it looked like Pinochet’s military dictatorship all over again, but this time, the people would not be defeated. There was a mass protest of well over one million people on October 25, a few days later, which sent a clear message to the state that there was no going back—real change had arrived, and things would be different.

The struggle was brutal—we see footage of the army using extreme violence to crack down on protesters, but the people never backed down. Hundreds lost their eyes after being shot by rubber bullets. In photographs of the maiming, there is only scar tissue where an eye used to be. Guzmán doesn’t shy away from the realities that are required to bring about groundbreaking change, and this reality is often hard to watch. But real change is never easy, usually ugly, and never given freely.

At a certain point, you realize that every activist Guzmán interviews is female. With this, Guzmán tells the important story of how women led the uprising because they experienced the material hardships most severely. One of Guzmán’s most compelling interviews is with activist and journalist Mónica González. She spells out how and why the revolution was led by women—and who they were.

She gives the example of how students, and the left in general, make everything about sexual freedom nowadays. She says that, of course, everyone should have sexual freedom, but she points out that there are many women whose concerns extend beyond the bedroom. Women who are forced to clean offices from morning to night. They can’t even think about making love—they’re too tired and too beaten down. They led the revolution—working-class women driven by material concerns, not by sexual liberation or identity politics.

González offers a material explanation why this occurred—73 percent of babies in Chile are born out of wedlock, and women make up more than 60 percent of the heads of household. With the burden of raising children and providing for their families falling on their shoulders, these women need real help, and so they were the ones out protesting.

My Imaginary Country is an essential documentary for anyone interested in learning about an ongoing revolution that actually succeeded—and one that has been too-little covered by the American media. Chileans have shown the world how it’s done—now it’s up to others to follow their lead.