It’s a dark chapter in Chile’s history.

During the dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet from 1973 to 1990, thousands of babies were stolen from their biological mothers and sold into adoption, mainly to foreign couples from the United States and Europe. In Chile, they’re known as “The Children of Silence.”

And now, for the first time in the country’s history, a Chilean judge announced he was prosecuting individuals alleged to have stolen babies in the country.

Alejandro Aguilar Brevis, a Santiago Court of Appeals judge in charge of the investigation “determined that in the 1980s” there was a network of health officials, Catholic priests, attorneys, social workers and even a judge who detected and delivered stole babies from mainly impoverished mothers and sold them into adoption to foreign couples for as much as $50,000, according to a Monday press release by Chile’s judiciary.

The investigation, which focuses on the city of San Fernando in central Chile, involves two babies who were stolen and handed over to foreign couples, according to the judiciary statement.

According to the statement by Chile’s judiciary, the ring allegedly focused on “abducting or stealing infants for monetary gain” with the purpose of “taking them out of the country to different destinations in Europe and the US.”

The judge charged and issued arrest warrants for five people, who he said should remain in pre-trial detention for “criminal association, child abduction, and willful misconduct,” the release said.

The Chilean government has made an extradition request to Israel for a former Chilean family court judge who now lives there and was allegedly involved, the release added.

Systemic theft of babies

The judge ruled that the statute of limitations does not apply in this case because as “these are crimes against humanity committed under a military regime and must be punished in accordance with the American Convention on Human Rights and the jurisprudence of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.”

The investigation was announced Monday, one day after Chilean President Gabriel Boric said that a task force he created last year to investigate cases of stolen babies has issued its final report.

Following its recommendations, Boric said the Chilean government will “create a genetic fingerprint bank that will provide additional means of searching for origins and enable family reunification for the many babies who were stolen for so long and given to foreign families.”

Constanza del Río, founder and director of Nos Buscamos (We Are Looking for Each Other), a Santiago NGO dedicated to reuniting families of stolen babies said that she feels cautiously optimistic because actions by countries like Chile to find the truth about the stolen babies have been “very slow and something that revictimizes the victims.”

Del Río, herself a victim of an illegal adoption, filed a lawsuit in 2017 demanding an investigation by the Chilean government. Authorities named a special prosecutor, but the investigation went nowhere, she said. Another prosecutor took the case for five years only to declare last year that he hadn’t been able “to establish that any crimes have been committed,” according to Del Rio.

President Boric has said creating a task force proves his government is serious about the issue and has spoken publicly about it, recognizing the systematic theft of babies back then as a fact.

Constanza del Río says Nos Buscamos alone has built a database that includes about 9,000 cases and has helped reunite more than 600 parents with their stolen children.

“This is no longer a myth. We know nowadays that this happened, and it was real. It’s not a tale that a couple of people were telling,” Labraña said at the time.

How will Moscow respond to the stunning Ukrainian drone strikes on its fleet of strategic aircraft?

So far, the Kremlin has stayed tight-lipped, saying only that it is waiting for the results of a formal investigation into the attacks, which struck air bases thousands of miles from the Ukraine border.

But fury is being openly vented across the Russia media, with pro-Kremlin pundits and bloggers seething with calls for retribution, even nuclear retaliation.

“This is not just a pretext but a reason to launch nuclear strikes on Ukraine,” the prominent “Two Majors” bloggers said on their popular Telegram channel, which has over a million subscribers.

“After the mushroom cloud you can think about who lied, made mistakes and so on,” they added, referring to the inevitable Kremlin search for scapegoats for the fiasco.

At least one prominent Russian political analyst, Sergei Markov, urged caution, warning in a social media post that using nuclear weapons would “lead to real political isolation”.

But popular blogger Alexander Kots demanded Russia should “strike with all our might, regardless of the consequences.”

Of course, Russian hardliners routinely clammer for the nuclear obliteration of Ukraine, while issuing thinly veiled, but ultimately empty threats of Armageddon aimed at the Western allies. The fact they are doing so again, after such a painful series of attacks, is hardly surprising.

But it would be wrong to get too complacent and dismiss all Russian nuclear saber-rattling as mere propaganda.

In fact, there are some worrying reasons to take the slim possibility of a devastating Russian response a little more seriously this time around.

Firstly, several Russian pundits have commented on how Ukraine’s destruction of a significant number of Russian strategic nuclear bombers may be interpreted as breaching Moscow’s legal nuclear threshold.

The Kremlin’s recently updated nuclear doctrine – which sets out conditions for a launch – states that any attack on “critically important” military infrastructure which “disrupts response actions by nuclear forces” could trigger a nuclear retaliation.

The Ukrainian operation was “grounds for a nuclear attack,” declared Vladmir Solovyov, a firebrand host on Russian state TV, calling for strikes on the Ukrainian presidential office in Kyiv, and beyond.

Whatever the legality, the barrier for a Russian nuclear response remains mercifully high and such a strike is likely to be dismissed in Kremlin circles as an impractical overkill.

For a start, it would poison relations with key Russian trading partners like China and India, as well as provoke potential military action against Russian forces.

Inevitable mass casualties would be certain to invite universal scorn, further isolating Russia on the international stage.

But here’s the problem: the Kremlin may now feel overwhelming pressure to restore deterrence.

It’s not just the recent Ukrainian drone strikes, deep inside Russia, that have humiliated Moscow. Shortly afterwards, Ukraine staged yet another bold attack on the strategic Kerch bridge linking Russia with Crimea – the third time the vital road and rail link has been hit.

The capture by Ukrainian forces of the Kursk region in western Russia last year dealt another powerful blow, leaving the Kremlin struggling to liberate its own land. Meanwhile, weekly, if not daily, drone attacks on Russian energy infrastructure and airports continue to cause widespread disruption far from the front lines.

At the same time, Ukraine’s allies have been gradually lifting restrictions on the use of Western-supplied arms against Russia, further challenging what were once believed to be Moscow’s red lines.

Few doubt the Kremlin is itching to respond decisively, but how?

“There’s no other way to go, because Russia does not have the capacity to launch a massive military offensive. They don’t have enough personnel for it,” said Vladimir Milov, a former deputy energy minister now living outside of Russia.

“People talk about potential use of nuclear weapons and so on. I don’t think this is on the table. But, again, Putin has shown many times that he is resorting to barbarity and revenge.”

In other words, highly unlikely, but the nuclear option can’t be entirely discounted. This Ukraine conflict has already taken multiple unexpected turns, not least the full-scale Russian invasion itself in 2022.

And while Ukraine and its supporters revel in the stunning successes of recent military operations, poking a humiliated and wounded Russian bear may yield dangerous and frightening consequences.

At age 14 he was an impoverished factory worker. On Wednesday, he became the leader of one of Asia’s most powerful economies, a US ally and cultural juggernaut.

But after sweeping to a decisive victory over conservative rival Kim Moon-soo on Tuesday, Lee Jae-myung faces a daunting task. South Korea remains deeply divided, Lee’s predecessor having declared martial law in a short-lived power grab in December, leaving many voters anxious about the state of their democracy.

Six months of ensuing political turmoil entrenched existing rifts, with protests – both for and against former President Yook Suk Yeol and his People Power Party – filling the streets of the capital Seoul.

Choppy international conditions have compounded domestic uncertainty. US President Donald Trump’s global tariffs have hit South Korea’s trade-reliant economy hard, with no permanent leader at the helm to steer negotiations with Washington.

Lee’s election – after a revolving door of interim leaders over the past half-year – might finally offer the country some much-needed stability, said Cho Hee-kyoung, a law professor at Hongik University in Seoul.

“We didn’t even have someone who could engage with Trump on the tariff war, and for an export-driven economy, that’s a serious problem,” Cho said. And, she added, the election – which saw the highest voter turnout since 1997 – represented a stinging public rebuke to the People Power Party.

“For many people, I think this election was about holding those responsible for bringing chaos to the country accountable,” she said.

But it remains to be seen whether Lee, 60, will be able to heal the political divides – especially as he comes with his own baggage, caught up in various legal challenges, facing allegations of corruption and abuse of power.

It’s not clear what will happen to his ongoing criminal trials; sitting presidents are normally immune from prosecution, but there’s disagreement on whether that applies to cases that begin before they take office.

At his inauguration on Wednesday, however, Lee sought to cast himself as a bringer of unity and a fresh start to the nation of more than 50 million people.

“It is time to replace hatred and confrontation with coexistence, reconciliation, and solidarity – to open an era of national happiness, of dreams and hope,” he said in a speech. “I will answer the earnest call to build a completely new nation.”

From rags to riches

Lee’s spectacular rise is well documented.

Born in the mid-1960s, he was the fifth of seven children in a poor family from Andong, a riverside city southeast of Seoul. His father worked as a market cleaner while his mother was a fee collector at public bathrooms, according to his office and biographies that include excerpts from Lee’s own diaries.

With civil war-ravaged South Korea in the early throes of a rapid industrialization that would transform it into a manufacturing powerhouse, Lee began working in factories as a teenager – from jewelry plants to refrigerator assembly lines. While working at a factory making baseball gloves, he permanently injured his left arm.

In his diary, Lee would write about his envy of students he saw wearing school uniforms and those who had enough to eat.

Despite his humble beginnings, he eventually passed his school exams and earned a full scholarship to study law at Chung-Ang University, one of Seoul’s top private universities.

From there, Lee became a human rights lawyer, eventually entering politics in 2010 as the mayor of Seongnam city, just outside Seoul, representing the liberal Democratic Party. That led to another, more significant, stint from 2018 as governor of Gyeonggi province, the country’s most populous, which surrounds the capital.

By then, he was eyeing the presidency – and left the governorship to run in the 2022 election, losing to Yoon by less than one percentage point.

Lee became a lawmaker after that, surviving an assassination attempt in January 2024 when a man stabbed him in the neck during a public event in the southern city of Busan, in what his party denounced as an “act of political terror.”

Later that year came Yoon’s ill-fated power grab. Lee again made headlines as one of the lawmakers who rushed to the legislature and pushed past soldiers to hold an emergency vote to lift martial law. He livestreamed himself jumping a fence to enter the building, in a viral video viewed tens of millions of times.

Despite his growing popularity, Lee has been viewed with suspicion by many opponents because of his criminal trials – including over alleged bribery and charges related to a property development scandal.

Separately, he was convicted of violating election law by knowingly making a false statement during a debate in the 2022 presidential campaign. The case has been sent to an appeals court.

What a Lee presidency might look like

Yoon’s martial law decree had been in part fueled by his frustration over a months-long political stalemate, with Lee’s Democratic Party blocking the president from moving forward with many of his campaign promises and policies.

Now, the Democratic Party controls both the parliament and the presidency – which could see “a return to normal politics,” said Celeste Arrington, Korea Foundation associate professor of political science and international affairs at George Washington University in the US capital.

“It might be easier to push through policies than it had been under impeached President Yoon,” she added.

And Lee has a lot to do, right away – including addressing a sluggish economy and getting involved in the US-South Korea trade talks.

“I will immediately activate an emergency economic response task force team to restore people’s livelihood and revive the economy,” he said during his inauguration speech on Wednesday. He added that he would “turn the global economic and security crisis into an opportunity to maximize our national interest,” and strengthen trilateral cooperation with the US and Japan.

Arrington added that Lee clearly sees the US-South Korea alliance as the “backbone” of the country’s national security – but he will have to balance that against relations with China. The US rival is also South Korea’s largest trading partner.

Yoon took a famously hard line on North Korea, and relations have plummeted. In contrast, Lee hails from a political party that has historically taken a more conciliatory approach to South Korea’s autocratic neighbor.

Lee reiterated the long-standing goal of peace on the Korean Peninsula, vowing to “respond firmly to North Korea’s nuclear threats while also keeping communication channels open.”

But above all, Lee emphasized the importance of rebuilding public trust, badly damaged by the martial law crisis – and punishing those responsible.

“I will rebuild everything that was destroyed by the insurrection and create a society that continues to grow and develop,” he said on Wednesday. “An insurrection that uses the military’s power, to seize the people’s sovereignty, must never happen again.”