For days, we were all Chileans.
The world watched fervently as all of Chile struggled as one team to rescue 33 miners trapped 700 meters underground. The world joined in earnest prayer, supplied words of encouragement, shared knowhow and then cheered as wildly as the Chilean people did when the rescue operation pulled the miners out to safety and into the arms of their loved ones.
Social networking sites were filled with messages from those who joined, in spirit, the frantic rescue effort. Cable news kept us abreast with all developments at the rescue site in real time. Modern technology eventually allowed us to view the miners in their chamber underneath the surface — a chamber that could have been their tomb had the rescue failed.
We watched, truly impressed, as the Chilean nation pulled together tightly to make the rescue possible. As the Chileans pulled together, so did all nations pull together as one human community as this amazing event unfolded.
Credit the new communications environment we live in. Over the past few days, it was as if we knew every trapped miner intimately: the poet, the veteran, the Elvis fan, and the one with a complicated love life. The world’s media zoomed in on each of them and made all of us feel they were family, made all of us feel we had a stake in their survival.
The world’s media brought to our living rooms a drama more gripping than any reality show could contrive. In an instant, we understood so much about Chilean society: its profound religiosity, its intense patriotism, its strong sense of community and, yes, even its politics and government.
We learned so much about the miners, their discipline and their capacity to hope and survive. We learned so much about the quality of governance that benefits all Chilean citizens — the ability of the state to mobilize resources for the rescue, maintain a tight organization to back up the rescue effort, and deliver a humane response in the face of emergency.
No less than Chile’s president, Sebastian Pinera, was on hand as one miner after another was brought safely to the surface. He was joined at the site by Bolivian president Evo Morales who came over to secure one Bolivian miner who was among those trapped in the collapsed copper mine. As the miners were being brought to the surface, a tedious process that took over 22 hours, the presidents of all the Latin American countries called the Chilean president to express solidarity.
When the mine collapsed over two months ago, rescuing the trapped miners seemed an impossible mission. But the families of the miners refused to accede to that impossibility. They set up camp in the mine and petitioned their government to throw everything it had into the rescue effort.
In the first 17 days of entrapment, in total darkness, the miners quickly organized themselves for survival. They tightly rationed the small quantity of food and water they had with them. Otherwise, they would have all starved.
On the 18th day, a small tube was inserted and reached the chamber where the trapped miners were. Food and drink, medicines and a power supply line, eventually an audio and then a video connection were established. Even then, it was estimated that at least four months might be required to enable rescuers to bore through hard rock to bring them out.
Soon enough, a Plan B was developed. It involved boring a smaller passage, large enough to pass through a tight capsule that could take the miners out. The parallel rescue efforts worked round the clock. Meanwhile, doctors and psychologists maintained constant touch with the trapped miners.
American engineers from NASA were flown in to help design a capsule and attempt something that was never done before. That was the capsule we all saw as we watched the miners being brought to the surface.
The Chilean president and his mining minister supervised the rescue effort directly. No expense was too great and no precaution was considered too small to matter.
This was, from the point of view of the Chilean leaders, going to be more than a rescue effort. It was going to be a patriotic effort, an icon of Chilean solidarity. When a whole nation puts its shoulders behind the wheel, the whole people reaps its triumph.
The miners led in setting the patriotic tone. Trapped in darkness, they sang Chile’s national anthem over and over again. They trusted their people will stop at nothing to bring them up from the bowels of the earth.
Soon enough, a Chilean flag was sent into the mine, setting the backdrop for the dramatic video that was sent up for all the world to see. The platform on which the rescue capsule was set up was decked in the Chilean colors. All the senior officials on the scene wore uniform red jackets with “Chile” emblazoned on them. Uniforms as well as grooming kits were also sent down the mine so that the miners would ascend well groomed and well dressed.
Crowds did not rush the capsule as the miners emerged (unlike that chaotic scene around the hostage bus at the Luneta after the hostage-taker was finally taken down). Every detail was checked and every protocol established to ensure that the liberation of the miners will be as reserved, honourable and orderly as possible.
The miners were well-briefed. Every action they took after being brought to the surface was choreographed with military precision. They hugged one close relative, then embraced their president and proceeded to the stretcher that would take them to the hospital. All of them wore regulation dress, including the obligatory sunglasses to protect their eyes.
All the miners, to a man, were found to be generally well after the rescue. That is a tribute to the well-planned diet they were sent in the long weeks of entrapment. Chile’s government truly left no stone unturned.
Whether or not this mine accident will result in setting new standards in mine safety is an open question. What is sure is that this event sets a new standard for how governments ought to behave when the lives of their citizens are in danger.
Specifically, this widely observed event sets a new standard for how heads of government should be involved in encouraging citizens in distress, keeping their spirits up and then celebrating with them after their lives were saved. Sebastian Pinera played his role decently and well. He kept vigil at the mine, shared the anxieties of his people and then celebrated with them wildly after the successful rescue.
Like a concerned, and then relieved, father, he hugged every miner emerging from what could have been their tomb. The day after, he checked up on them at the hospital.
His presence was effectively felt and well appreciated. In the last poll, Chile’s first right-wing president in decades, enjoyed astronomical approval ratings. Hard work and a defined personal touch is the new benchmark for legitimacy.