In un lungo articolo pubblicato su The Atavist Magazine, Mike Damiano, ripercorrendo la storia della colonizzazione cilena dell’isola di Pasqua, racconta la vita di Alfonso Rapu, un uomo della comunità indigena formatosi in Cile negli anni ’50 – grazie a un programma governativo – e reinsediatosi sull’isola in qualità di insegnante, nel 1963, dietro nomina del Ministero della Pubblica Istruzione.

L’autore ricostruisce le tappe del processo di liberazione della popolazione autoctona dall’oppressione della marina cilena, mostrando come l’autonomia politica e il conseguente sistema di libere elezioni siano stati conquistati grazie all’impegno tenace e pacifico di Alfonso Rapu, ai suoi efficaci stratagemmi e alla solidarietà della sua gente.

Dopo l’annessione dell’Isola di Pasqua gli indigeni Rapa Nui erano stati costretti a vivere in misere condizioni in pochi chilometri quadrati sulla costa occidentale, l’unico modo di andarsene era di rischiare in mare o di prendere una nave col permesso del Governatore. Alfonso Rapu si imbarca sulla nave Pinto, nel 1955 per andare a studiare in un collegio di Santiago.

The Pinto came once a year to deliver basic supplies: soap, flour, sugar, fabric. For the Rapanui, the annual arrival was bittersweet. The Pinto, the Rapanui’s only regular physical contact with the outside world, brought relief. Along with supplies, the Pinto brought disease. Each year, in the weeks after the ship unloaded, kokongo—a catchall term for whatever germs the Chilean sailors were carrying—swept through Hanga Roa. It was common for kokongo to infect as much as half the population.

The next several months were lonely and difficult. Rapu lived in a dormitory full of bunk beds, which during the week were occupied by children but sat empty on weekends; most students returned home to their families then, leaving Rapu alone. Yet even on weekdays he was isolated. He barely spoke Spanish. When teachers called on him in class, his speech was halting and accented. His classmates snickered and called him indio—Indian.

In seguito viene preso in cura da un’assistente sociale che lo ospita in casa, diventa una seconda madre e fa sì che gli anni dell’adolescenza siano felici.

Dopo un primo ritorno all’Isola matura l’idea di diventare un insegnante. Si laurea ed avrebbe la possibilità di andare negli USA ma vuole aiutare la sua gente. Il fratello era stato punito severamente dal governatore per aver accusato di molestie sessuali un ufficiale della marina cilena che governava l’Isola di Pasqua. Alfonso Rapu studia i movimenti di liberazione dei popoli e decide di ritornare definitivamente all’isola di Pasqua per diventare il primo insegnante autoctono.

È popolare tra gli studenti sia indigeni che cileni ma tra gli adulti le uniche persone con cui riesca a dialogare sono le suore.

The nuns could speak about politics and world events. Rapu was grateful for the camaraderie, but it pained him that he couldn’t find the same bond with the men and women he had grown up with, however hard he tried. When he tried to strike up conversations about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy or the fractious politics of mainland Chile, his Rapanui friends steered the conversation back toward familiar ground: fishing, the harvest, village gossip.

Rapu came to realize that he no longer fully belonged anywhere. He had been a foreigner in Santiago, and now he was an outsider on Easter Island.

Non gli resta altro che dedicarsi all’istruzione degli indigeni adulti, insegna lo spagnolo perché non siano più ingannati. Ma capisce che il processo di emancipazione può avere successo se ricorda ai Rapanui che sono gli eredi di una grande civiltà.

one that had learned to survive on this inhospitable island and built its famous moai statues. By 1964, most of the moai lay toppled and covered in lichen, surrounded by grazing sheep. Rapanui farmers plucked rocks from the ahu—the platforms the moai once stood upon—to build walls around their fields.

Allora organizza corsi di danza tradizionali

Rapu started looking for ways to expand programming at the school, with an eye toward teaching Easter Island’s history. He partnered with Luis Paté, a popular fisherman  founded a dance troupe of children and teenagers. On weekends they met at the schoolhouse to craft traditional clothes—grass skirts, headdresses made of dried reeds—and to rehearse Papa Kiko’s music and dance steps.  For Rapu it was a way of reintroducing himself to islanders, regaining their trust after so many years away, and reasserting his Rapanui identity. He was also creating a sense of community. In short, he was organizing.

Nel 1963 aveva formato un sodalizio con German Hotus un indipendentista, Rapu non lo era, si considerava ancora un cileno, ma entrambi condividevano l’idea che i Rapanui meritassero una vita migliore.

They also complemented each other. While Rapu could relate to the Chileans—and speak to them in Spanish—Hotus was a married father of nine who was employed at the village supply store. He was a man of the people. Rapu and Hotus became a team and started laying plans. They did not support violence, and neither aspired to be governor or king. Still, they believed that the Navy could be resisted, and that the regime on Easter Island could be prodded to change. They wanted to show the Rapanui how.

La svolta avviene con  l’arrivo di una nave canadese con ricercatori e medici . Di fronte ad osservatori internazionali la marina cilena non poteva reagire in modo spietato come al solito e quindi si poteva alzare il livello della sfida al governatorato militare. Prima redige una lettera di denuncia al presidente cileno  con raccolta firme di firme effettuata anche in modo subdolo, poi la richiesta di elezioni locali con nomi non approvati dal governatore esautorando la vecchia guardia, infine con un atto di sabotaggio.

A quel punto viene ordinata la deportazione di Rapu e dei suoi alleati che però seppur in una piccola isola trovano tanti nascondigli.

La svolta successiva è la pubblicazione della lettera al presidente cileno

Exclusive! Pascuenses send a letter to Frei,” the headline read. “They describe abuses committed against them.” Along with the letter, the paper ran a glowing profile of Rapu. “Alfonso Rapu, a 22-year-old teacher, is the leader of Easter Island,” it declared.

The letter caused a sensation. In the following days, other newspapers in Valparaíso and Santiago covered it or ran excerpts. Inside the government, the letter heightened the sense of emergency. The schoolteacher seemed to have outwitted Frei’s administration, influenced media coverage, and shaped public opinion from 2,000 miles away. Among the letter’s accusations of head shavings, whippings, and other abuses, one line stood out to Chile’s leaders: “We have heard from people from other islands who share our Polynesian blood that our conditions would be better if we joined the Union of the Islands of Polynesia.” Rapu had tried to hedge, writing in the next sentence, “We don’t want to consider these propositions.” But it was the implied threat of secession—not the disclaimer—that attracted notice.

Lo scontro tra il giovane insegnante accusato di insurrezione e secessione e la marina cilena arriva quindi al redde rationem quando entra in scena la parte più oppressa del popolo oppresso.

A mob of women, including Reina, Rapu’s mother, amassed behind the stone wall outside the courthouse.  Standing shoulder to shoulder, the women watched the building’s door, waiting for Rapu and his captors to emerge.

Inside, Rojas ordered two of his men to take Rapu to the marines’ encampment, to prepare for his removal from the island. As he was escorted toward the door, Rapu heard a murmur of voices outside. As soon as he walked out, the Rapanui women climbed over the wall and rushed toward Rapu and the marines, yelling. As the mob closed in, one woman, Herencia Teao, grabbed Rapu’s arm and pulled him toward her.

E la storia non era ancora finita.