Although it has called on the British government to release General Augusto Pinochet, the government of Chile appears unwilling to challenge antidemocratic forces. This reluctance reflects a strong desire to forget the past -- a forgetfulness that can only damage the country's hopes for true democracy. PNS associate editor Andrew Reding directs the North America Project of the World Policy Institute.

Chile's foreign minister is in London trying to persuade the British to release General Augusto Pinochet. Jose Miguel Insulza -- a Socialist who had to go into exile during the dictatorship -- says Pinochet is facing trials in Chile, and should be allowed to return there.

Insulza is undoubtedly in earnest. The problem lies with his more timid coalition partners, who are now arguably doing more to restrain the advance of Chilean democracy than the widely discredited army.

The centrist Christian Democrats, led by President Eduardo Frei, lack the political will to confront those who betrayed the country's constitution and slaughtered thousands of defenseless Chilean citizens for their political beliefs.They argue that Pinochet retains a large following and the loyalty of the army, raising the specter of a return to civil strife.

In fact, Pinochet's supporters are a minority, and another army coup is out of the question. Without the Cold War for legitimation, military rule would not only be rejected by a wide majority of Chileans, but by the international community.

A coup would also derail Chile's economic miracle, which is export-driven and depends on good relations with the international community.

Chile's centrist leaders could, in other words, call the right wing's bluff. They do not, in part, because they like to think of themselves as honorable people who keep their word, even if it means respecting a former dictator's terms for leaving office. Never mind that Gen. Pinochet himself violated the oath of office swearing to uphold the country's constitution he took when President Salvador Allende appointed him commander in chief of the armed forces in 1973. Weeks later, he overturned Allende's freely-elected socialist government following another right wing defeat at the polls.

Since democracy was restored in 1990, the country's civilian administrations have not challenged the brazenly antidemocratic provisions of a constitution imposed by force. That constitution effectively stacks the Senate in favor of right-wing parties, and reserves four additional seats for the military. It also makes Pinochet -- the leader of a coup d'etat -- a "senator-for-life," beyond the reach of the law.

The constitution also prevents Frei from exercising full and effective control over the armed forces and the militarized police (carabineros).

There is one other reason for this timidity.

Chile remains a nation sharply divided between rich and poor. The benefits of its spectacular economic boom have not spread far enough to create a secure, majoritarian, middle class. As a consequence, many in the center view the left with fear and see the army, in a sense, as their insurance policy against a resurgence of the democratic left.

And that's just the point. Much of the Chilean center fears democracy. It wants assurances that the left will never again win a national election. Absent such a guarantee, an unreformed military, given its fearsome history, is seen as an awkward but nonetheless necessary check on the ambitions of the left. So are angry right-wing mobs.

This explains why self-described democrats agree with Gen. Pinochet's statement, "It is better to remain quiet and to forget." Frei himself has reason to forget -- his father, the president who preceded Allende, gave his blessing to Pinochet's bloody coup.

Yet forgetting keeps Chile mired in its past. Forgetting empowers the military, foments impunity, and keeps the country chained to a constitution designed by a dictator to limit democracy.

Forgetting also perpetuates divisions. It keeps old wounds festering. For want of authoritative inquiries into what happened during the Allende and Pinochet years, it keeps alive two completely incompatible versions of recent history, denying the nation a sense of common purpose.

Ultimately, this is a recipe for instability. Successful transitions to democracy inevitably require a full accounting of the past. Only that accounting, however painful, allows the gradual forging of a new national consensus.

Gen. Pinochet, who presided over a regime that engaged in mass murder, torture, and international terrorism (including a car bombing that killed a U.S. citizen in Washington, DC), has everything to fear from such an inquiry. So do the Christian Democrats who applauded when Pinochet arrayed his tanks in front of the presidential palace. But the country has everything to gain from a full airing of the truth.

In the name of national sovereignty, President Frei continues to call upon Britain and Spain to release Gen. Pinochet. It is a delicious twist of irony that British and Spanish courts are arguably doing more for Chilean democracy than its spineless politicians.