A year has passed since Argentina, 1985 opened in Buenos Aires cinemas, reviving a momentous trial of crimes against humanity committed by members of the last military dictatorship (1976–83). The film returned with intensity, and many viewers felt the weight of history anew. In a country juggling layered crises, public opinion about the severity and nature of that crackdown—which left thousands missing—faces fresh scrutiny as polls begin to shape the national narrative. The political landscape shifted as far-right candidate Javier Milei advanced to the runoff, with October 22 looming as a test of his reformist agenda. His ally Victoria Villarruel shares a bold aim: to transform not just the political conversation but the very outcome of the election itself. The revival of revisionist currents now questions how courts, historians, and the public interpret the past. If Villarruel gains government influence, she is positioned to steer the policy discourse in a defensive direction.
Lawyer Victoria Villarruel, 48, has served as a member of parliament since December 2021. She speaks in a measured, unhurried manner that many find unsettling. Recently, in Buenos Aires’ city legislature, she presided over a ceremony commemorating the victims of guerrilla groups active in the 1970s, prior to the 1976 coup. Her remarks to Estela Carlotto, president of the Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo who helped recover 133 abducted children, drew sharp reactions as she labeled certain acts as unworthy of the country’s memory.
Before capturing national attention, Milei’s surge followed Villarruel’s own path as an activist who has openly discussed attention deficit disorder. Crisis magazine notes that his public influence has grown through sustained dialogue, multiple books, lectures, television appearances, school engagements, and a carefully curated social media presence. He now believes he stands on the cusp of a personal and political victory that could reshape Argentina’s future.
military lineage
Villarruel’s family history is steeped in military service. At her birth, her father—a career army officer—participated in the Independence Movement in the northern province of Tucumán. This lineage extended beyond counter-insurgency efforts to a broader national narrative following the fall of a democratically elected government. Lieutenant Colonel Eduardo Villarruel pursued a course that ended with a controversial choice during Argentina’s transition to democracy; he refused to take an oath binding soldiers to defend the Constitution, a stance that cost him his career but underscored a moment of principled defiance.
Her uncle, Ernesto Villarruel, served in intelligence and was implicated in the operations at the Vesubio detainment center. Arrests and evasions marked the late 2000s and early 2010s as judges pursued accountability, though some cases became entangled in legal complexities. The family’s military and intelligence ties have shaped public perceptions of Villarruel and her political stance, particularly as she positions herself as the guardian of state and national governance values.
The maternal branch carries a venerable naval lineage. A grandfather in the naval service is cited by Villarruel’s supporters as a source of formative guidance. In this frame, she has presented herself as a defender of the country’s institutions, arguing that the memory of the past must be safeguarded even as political agendas evolve.
Visit to former dictator Videla
The film Santiago Mitre portrays a challenging period when Argentina began charting an institutional path forward. It depicts a landscape where former soldiers, their families, and supporters organized around a difficult legacy and its contested past. As impunity laws were repealed to restore public memory, the broad narrative about what happened in the 1970s gained renewed visibility. The return of strong interpretations of that history intersects with current debates about accountability and memory.
LLA’s vice-presidential candidate Villarruel has a documented history of involvement in groups that favored a hardline stance toward the past. She was linked to the Argentine Unity Association and later to Jóvenes por la Verdad, associations that allowed former regime supporters to gather and reflect on their worldview. Notably, her name appeared in a police notebook connected to Jorge Videla-era investigations, signaling how tightly memory, power, and political identity are woven in contemporary debates.
Extremely conservative agenda
For years, Villarruel has asserted that there existed a war-like dynamic between the state and guerrilla forces, sometimes downplaying the scale of human rights violations during the dictatorship. While the 1985 trial documented hundreds of cases and substantial penalties against oppressors, she has argued that violence stemmed from wartime conditions rather than a systematic plan. Critics argue that such articulation minimizes the regime’s culpability, even as new configurations of justice and memory continue to unfold.
Her rhetoric has sometimes drawn accusations of denial, with critics labeling her stance as a challenge to established human rights narratives. She counters by emphasizing a different political truth: that defending the controversial periods and symbols of the past should be weighed alongside contemporary questions about governance and policy. As she positions herself as a principled right-wing voice, she also signals support for controversial policy changes, including debates about abortion decriminalization and gender equality policies.
Villarruel has infused political language with terms that have resurfaced in public discourse after decades of quiet margin. Critics point to the way former rivals have adapted their own messages to engage a broader electorate. The current political moment, marked by a sharp contest between competing memories and visions for Argentina, makes her stance particularly consequential for the direction of national policy and social norms.