We are all connected to history. It's only a matter of scratching the surface.
En octubre de 1998, la detención de Augusto Pinochet en Londres no fue solo un hecho policial: fue la fundación de una nueva gramática del poder internacional. El abogado británico Philippe Sands sostiene que ese momento reconfiguró los límites de la impunidad, obligando a líderes como Putin, Netanyahu y Trump a moverse con una cautela que antes no conocían. La justicia internacional, argumenta Sands, no es un relámpago sino una marea: lenta, persistente, y capaz de alcanzar incluso a quienes creyeron estar fuera de su alcance.
- La detención de Pinochet en Londres creó un precedente legal que hoy pesa sobre los cálculos de viaje y poder de los líderes más poderosos del mundo.
- Sands advierte que las naciones que entierran sus crímenes históricos —España con Franco, Chile con Pinochet, Gran Bretaña con su pasado colonial— acumulan una tensión interna que tarde o temprano fractura el tejido social.
- El caso Pinochet fue también, en secreto, un ajuste de cuentas con el franquismo: los jueces Garzón y Castresana usaron al dictador chileno como puerta trasera hacia una historia que España se negaba a mirar de frente.
- Sands trabaja ahora para que el ecocidio sea reconocido como crimen internacional, convencido de que la arquitectura legal que protege el planeta debe construirse antes de que el daño sea irreversible.
- Sobre las redes sociales, Sands abandona todo optimismo: las llama veneno antidemocrático, poder concentrado en pocas manos que manipula sin que sus usuarios lo perciban.
Philippe Sands llegó a Madrid esta semana para impartir una clase magistral sobre los puntos de encuentro entre historia, literatura y derecho. En conversación, volvió una y otra vez al mismo instante: octubre de 1998, cuando Augusto Pinochet fue detenido en Londres. Para Sands, ese arresto cambió la forma en que los líderes más poderosos del mundo se mueven por él.
Sands ha participado en algunos de los grandes casos de derechos humanos de las últimas décadas —los tribunales de Yugoslavia, las investigaciones sobre Guantánamo, el propio caso Pinochet— y conoce la maquinaria de la justicia internacional desde adentro. Está convencido de que Putin, Trump y Netanyahu viajan hoy con más precaución precisamente por lo que le ocurrió al dictador chileno. "Es un juego largo", dice. Trump puede intentar remodelar el sistema, pero la arquitectura persiste.
Lo que más fascina a Sands es cómo estos precedentes nacen del coraje individual. El arresto de Pinochet fue posible gracias a tres hombres —el juez Baltasar Garzón, el fiscal Carlos Castresana y el abogado Joan Garcés— que llevaron adelante investigaciones independientes y valientes. Cuando Sands habló con ellos, descubrió algo revelador: no perseguían solo a Pinochet. Perseguían a Franco. España nunca había juzgado los crímenes de su propia dictadura, y llegar a Pinochet era una forma de alcanzar ese pasado sin resolver.
Sands encontró esa conexión de manera personal mientras investigaba su libro "Calle Londres 38". La familia de su esposa tenía vínculos con Carmelo Soria, diplomático español secuestrado y torturado por la DINA, la policía secreta de Pinochet. "Todos estamos conectados con la historia", reflexionó Sands. "Solo hace falta rascar un poco la superficie para que esas conexiones aparezcan." El libro está siendo adaptado al cine por el director chileno Felipe Gálvez.
Su argumento más amplio es sobre el precio que pagan las naciones que se niegan a mirar su pasado. Un país, sugiere, es como una familia: si se entierra un secreto terrible, se paga por ello. La incapacidad de España para confrontar el franquismo genera una tensión que se pudre bajo la superficie. Lo mismo ocurre con Chile, con Gran Bretaña y su historia colonial.
Hoy, Sands trabaja para que el ecocidio sea reconocido como crimen internacional, impulsado en parte por las cartas que recibe de jóvenes preocupados por el futuro del planeta. Es otro juego largo. El precedente Pinochet demuestra que la arquitectura legal, una vez construida, perdura.
Philippe Sands has spent his career chasing the threads that connect history to law, literature to power. The British lawyer and writer arrived in Madrid this week to teach a masterclass on how these worlds collide, and in conversation, he kept returning to a single moment: October 1998, when Augusto Pinochet was arrested in London. That arrest, he argues, changed everything for how the world's most powerful figures move through it.
Sands has been inside some of the largest human rights cases of the past three decades—Yugoslavia's war crimes tribunals, Guantánamo torture investigations, and the Pinochet case itself. He knows the machinery of international justice from the inside. And he is convinced that Putin, Trump, and Netanyahu now travel with caution because of what happened to the Chilean dictator. "Netanyahu and Putin travel now with more precaution, and when Trump leaves power, he will too," Sands said in an interview. "All because of the Pinochet precedent."
This is not optimism born from naïveté. Sands understands that international justice is, as he puts it, a long game. Trump may attempt to reshape the system temporarily, he notes, but the architecture persists. Even Trump's recent moves—the detention of Nicolás Maduro in Venezuela, threats toward Iran, operations in the Caribbean—are being measured against standards that exist precisely because of cases like Pinochet's. "Trump can try to change the system temporarily, but it's a long-running game," Sands said. "And he's not even achieving what he intends. Now there's talk of an Iran deal that looks very similar to what the Obama administration reached in 2015."
What fascinates Sands most is how these legal precedents emerge from the particular bravery of individuals. The Pinochet arrest was possible, he argues, because three men—judge Baltasar Garzón, prosecutor Carlos Castresana, and lawyer Joan Garcés—conducted fearless, independent investigations. When Sands spoke with each of them, they told him something striking: they were not only pursuing Pinochet. They were pursuing Franco. Spain had never held its own dictatorship accountable for the crimes of the Franco era, and reaching Pinochet was a way to reach back into that unresolved past. The case became a mirror in which Spain could see its own failure to reckon with history.
Sands discovered this connection in a deeply personal way while researching his book "Calle Londres 38." His wife's family was connected to Carmelo Soria, a Spanish diplomat who was kidnapped and tortured by Pinochet's secret police, the DINA. Soria became part of Garzón's investigation. "We are all connected to history," Sands reflected. "It's only a matter of scratching the surface a little for those connections to appear." The book is being adapted into a film by Chilean director Felipe Gálvez, with Ana de Armas and Sebastian Stan in the cast.
But Sands' larger argument is about what happens when nations refuse to face their pasts. A country, he suggests, is like a family: if you bury a terrible secret, you pay a price for it. Spain's apparent inability to confront the Franco era creates tension and polarization that festers. The same is true for Chile, for Britain regarding Ireland and its colonial history. "They don't want to talk about it," Sands said. "It gets pushed under the rug."
There is one subject on which Sands loses his characteristic optimism: social media. He calls these platforms poison, concentrated power in very few hands, essentially antidemocratic. "They manipulate us without our being conscious of how much," he said. He advocates for banning access for minors and intensifying regulation of ownership, even eliminating some of the forms of debate these platforms have established.
Currently, Sands is deeply involved in efforts to establish "ecocidio"—ecocide—as an international crime. Much of his motivation comes from the letters and messages he receives from young people worried about the environment and how to fight for its preservation. It is another long game, another attempt to build the legal architecture that might constrain power before it causes irreversible harm. The Pinochet precedent shows that such architecture, once built, endures.
Citações Notáveis
Netanyahu and Putin travel now with more precaution, and when Trump leaves power, he will too. All because of the Pinochet precedent.— Philippe Sands
A country is like a family: if you bury a terrible secret, you pay a price for it.— Philippe Sands
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When you say the Pinochet arrest changed how world leaders move, what exactly changed? Did they suddenly become more cautious, or was it more gradual?
It was gradual, but the precedent was immediate. Once you establish that a sitting or former leader can be arrested in a foreign country for crimes against humanity, the calculus shifts. Leaders began to understand that immunity isn't absolute. They started checking which countries had universal jurisdiction laws, which judges might be sympathetic to prosecution. It became a real constraint.
But Trump seems to be testing those limits right now—Maduro's detention, threats toward Iran. Doesn't that suggest the precedent is weakening?
Not at all. What Trump is doing is precisely what you do when you're trying to break a rule you know exists. The fact that he's testing it, that people are watching and measuring his actions against international law, proves the rule is still there. If the precedent had no force, he wouldn't need to test it.
You mentioned that Garzón, Castresana, and Garcés were really pursuing Franco through Pinochet. That's a strange kind of justice—prosecuting one dictator to address another.
It's not strange at all. It's how unresolved history works. Spain couldn't prosecute Franco because the transition happened without accountability. So when Pinochet became available, it became a way to say: we can still do justice for these crimes, even if we couldn't do it at home. It's indirect, but it's real.
Your wife's family connection to Carmelo Soria—did that change how you approached the case, or was it already part of the investigation?
It changed how I understood it. I was researching Pinochet's crimes, and suddenly I discovered my own family was woven into the story. It made me realize that these aren't abstract historical events. They're personal. They touch everyone. That's what I mean when I say we're all connected to history.
You seem optimistic about international justice as a long game, but you're quite dark about social media. Why the difference?
Because one is built on human institutions and law—things that can be reformed, that have shown they can adapt and persist. Social media is built on a different logic entirely: profit, engagement, concentration of power. It's not designed to serve justice or truth. It's designed to manipulate. Those are opposite trajectories.