This past Tuesday, March 24, a day of mobilization took place in Argentina to mark the 50th anniversary of the 1976 coup d’état. Setting aside their differences, a broad range of social groups gathered in Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires, as well as in provinces across the country.
Every March 24 is a national holiday in Argentina, commemorating the Day of Remembrance for Truth and Justice. This year, authorities also declared Monday a holiday, officially to encourage tourism.
That weekend, the bustling Corrientes Avenue was packed with people, thanks to a wealth of cultural events taking place both in theaters and along the avenue itself, which had been converted into a pedestrian walkway.
By Monday, Plaza de Mayo began to fill with banners from various social and political organizations. A vigil was held there, featuring artistic performances alongside discussion panels addressing the country’s pressing issues across different sectors and spheres.
The struggles of retirees—who take to the streets weekly to voice their discontent over meager pensions and the social benefits that have been either stripped away or chipped away at, even in the face of police brutality—were also part of the discussion.
Similar concerns were voiced by workers laid off from state-owned companies and those left unemployed due to the closure of private firms. Cuts to education were addressed with the starkness that the current moment demands.
The discussions also reflected growing concern over environmental degradation, particularly in various regions across Argentina.
Let’s recall just a few examples.
In the north, the Gran Chaco region—spanning Chaco, Santiago del Estero, Formosa, and Salta—is experiencing a state of forest emergency. It is one of the ten most deforested areas in the world, directly impacting Indigenous communities whose subsistence and production depend on the forest.
In Patagonia, since the start of 2026, forest fires have ravaged more than 230,000 hectares.
The idea that water is a scarce, non-renewable resource is deeply understood in the Puna and Andean regions, where this vital resource is becoming increasingly scarce due to mineral extraction in high mountain areas. This places intense pressure on limited freshwater reserves in fragile ecosystems, a problem compounded by the retreat of glaciers in the Andean provinces.
The Pampas plains, like other regions, are suffering the effects of extreme weather events driven by climate change—further aggravated by the prevailing industrial agricultural model.
This year alone, very significant losses in soybean and corn crops have been recorded due to high temperatures. At the same time, the widespread use of agrochemicals, promoted by large multinational corporations, is leading to the steady degradation of soil and biodiversity.
The Matanza-Riachuelo Basin in the Buenos Aires metropolitan area is no exception. It faces alarmingly severe water pollution, worsened by inadequate solid waste management that affects surrounding communities.
These issues were also reflected in the voices of Indigenous representatives, who spoke of being driven off their lands—lands often coveted by real estate developers looking to capitalize on rising surface values, while disregarding the deeper, centuries-old value that has been preserved, cultivated, and enriched over generations.
The Street, a Shared Skin
All these concerns—and more—converged on Tuesday in the massive march that flowed into Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires, echoed by similar mobilizations in other provinces and towns.
The main event, naturally, was marked by the vibrant energy of the crowd, expressed through clothing, chants, and the music of drumming groups marching in powerful collective rhythm.
Civil society organizations, unions, political groups, and sectors of the Church were united by a revered trinity: memory, truth, and justice.
As was expressed from the stage and echoed throughout the crowd, differences—though present—gave way to these three foundational pillars, bound together by an indispensable principle: Never Again.
The organizations Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo and Mothers of Plaza de Mayo uphold the figure of 30,000 people who were disappeared during the civil-military dictatorship—a stark contrast to official figures, which recognize fewer than 9,000.
Recently, the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team succeeded in identifying the remains of 12 disappeared individuals, whose bodies had been found in mass graves or cemeteries.
Meanwhile, the tireless work of the Grandmothers has allowed 140 young people to recover their true identities and learn their origins.
As that human tide withdrew from the gathering points, countless photographs, aerial images, and stories lingered in the air—transformed into materials that will help preserve the memory of the day.
Perhaps what truly matters is that communion of diverse groups committed to building collective life projects: an unequal struggle against a hegemonic culture of systematic plunder—of resources and of identities.
