Operation Algeciras was a secret plan by the Argentine Navy during the Malvinas/Falklands War to attack British ships at the Gibraltar base using underwater mines placed by divers. The operation was conceived by Admiral Jorge Isaac Anaya and was even kept hidden from much of the military government itself. What is striking about this episode is that the operational side was entrusted to members of Montoneros. The main figure was Máximo Alfredo Nicoletti, accompanied by other militants: Antonio Nelson Latorre ("el Pelado Diego") and Abel Adolfo Ojeda ("el Marciano"). All of them had experience in sabotage and clandestine operations. The involvement of these guerrillas can be explained by their specialised knowledge of explosives and tactical diving. This situation represents one of the most striking paradoxes of the period: men who only a few years earlier had fought against the Navy ended up collaborating with it in an operation against the United Kingdom during the war. The operation was never carried out. In late May 1982, the Spanish police detected suspicious movements by members of the group in Málaga and Algeciras. They were arrested before they could place the mines and were subsequently discreetly expelled from Spain in order to avoid a diplomatic conflict. An interesting detail is that several researchers maintain that British services had intercepted Argentine communications and had partial knowledge of the plan, although the exact role of British intelligence in the failure of the operation remains disputed. Still, as masters of intelligence, they were most likely aware of it. The story of Máximo Alfredo Nicoletti is one of the most astonishing of the 1970s. He took part in sabotage operations against the Navy. The best known was the 1975 attack on the destroyer ARA Santísima Trinidad, when he placed explosives below the waterline while the ship was moored. The vessel suffered significant damage and had to remain under repair for a long time. After the 1976 coup, Nicoletti’s situation changed radically. He was arrested and, according to various investigations, ended up collaborating with sectors of Naval Intelligence. The exact details of how that collaboration came about remain a subject of debate among historians and journalists, because there are contradictory versions and incomplete documentation. The paradox is extraordinary: the same man who years earlier had planted bombs against Navy ships was now planning to attack a British target on behalf of that very same Navy. Nicoletti and his group travelled to Spain posing as tourists. From hotels on the Costa del Sol, they monitored the movements of British ships entering and leaving Gibraltar. The plan was to attach limpet mines to the hull of a British warship or logistics support vessel and detonate the charges once the ship was under way. However, the Spanish police began to suspect them. The arrests took place before they could carry out the attack. Spain, which was going through a delicate democratic transition and sought to maintain good relations with both Argentina and the United Kingdom, chose to resolve the matter discreetly: the Argentines were expelled from the country and the episode remained largely secret for years.
Nicoletti also appears in several books on the Malvinas/Falklands War and special operations, including works by the journalist Juan Bautista Yofre and the British historian Nigel West. What makes his story so distinctive is that it reflects the complex and sometimes contradictory relationships that emerged during the dictatorship: former enemies ended up collaborating in a wartime operation against an external adversary. The main driving force —and, strictly speaking, the true political mastermind of the operation— was Admiral Jorge Isaac Anaya, then Commander-in-Chief of the Navy and a member of the Military Junta. Contrary to some malicious voices claiming that the admiral was indulgent towards British policy on the Malvinas so that the United Kingdom of Great Britain could recover the naval power that Margaret Thatcher was beginning to dismantle, he wanted to strike the British Navy outside the Malvinas theatre of operations, taking the war to Europe. Anaya entrusted the operational design to Admiral Eduardo Morris Girling, head of Naval Intelligence, who selected the personnel and organised the details of the mission. As for the name, "Operation Algeciras" was so called because the Spanish city of Algeciras, located opposite Gibraltar, was the base from which the Argentine commandos would operate. There they rented vehicles, stayed in hotels and carried out surveillance of British naval traffic. The real target was Gibraltar, but the code name adopted that of the Spanish city from which the mission would be carried out. There is an interesting historical detail: the operation drew some inspiration from the actions of the Italian divers of the Decima Flottiglia MAS during the Second World War. Those commandos had attacked British ships precisely in Gibraltar and other Mediterranean ports using limpet mines placed by divers. Nicoletti, moreover, was the son of an Italian veteran of that type of unit, so there was a technical and even family connection with that tradition of underwater warfare. What is extraordinary is that, had the operation succeeded, it would probably have been the only Argentine attack carried out on European soil during the South Atlantic war but, above all, it showed that when Argentines unite beyond our ideological differences in favour of "the Fatherland first", we can land a solid punch on our enemies.
Operation Cow Beach was conceived in the shadows of a turbulent era—an epic chapter in the history of the Argentine Navy, where determination and stealth combined to confront a challenge that had lingered for over a century. The year was 1966, and Argentina, ruled by a military junta following the overthrow of President Arturo Illia, was growing weary of its diplomatic claims over the sovereignty of the Falkland Islands. The shadow of British incursion, cast over the islands since 1833, loomed heavily in the minds of naval strategists.
The incident involving Aerolíneas Argentinas Flight 648, hijacked by a group of extremists and diverted to the archipelago, had stirred already turbulent waters. It was a stark reminder that the situation in the Falklands could escalate without warning, and that Argentina needed to be prepared for a confrontation scenario. Thus, in the shadowy offices of Buenos Aires, a plan was drawn up involving one of the fleet’s most veteran submarines—the ARA Santiago del Estero, a former USS Lamprey from the Second World War, repurposed as the guardian of a secret mission.
Aerolíneas Argentinas Flight 648 was hijacked by Argentine extremists on 28 September 1966 and diverted to the Falklands, where they meekly surrendered to the British colonial authorities.
On 28 October 1966, with its diesel engines roaring beneath the waves, the ARA Santiago del Estero silently navigated the frigid waters of the South Atlantic. Under the command of Frigate Captain Horacio González Llanos and Corvette Captain Juan José Lombardo, the submarine stealthily approached the coast of East Falkland, just 40 kilometres from Port Stanley, the capital of the British colony. On board, twelve Navy men—including Sub-Lieutenant Oscar Héctor García Rabini—waited tensely for the moment to act.
Diagram of the Navigation Route Taken by Submarine S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero of the Argentine Navy During Operation "Cow Beach", Late October 1966
Cow Bay, Soledad Island/East Falkland (Argentine Republic)
The plan was clear: they were to land on a remote beach, just a few kilometres north of the British position, to gather vital intelligence for future landings. The beach had to be thoroughly surveyed—its gradient, potential underwater obstacles, approach routes—everything needed to be charted without leaving a trace. In the dimness of night, the men assembled their kayaks on the deck of the barely surfaced submarine, and the silence was broken only by the gentle lapping of the waves.
Crew and Command Staff of Submarine S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero – Argentine Navy. Arrival of S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero (SS-372 USS Lamprey) at Mar del Plata Naval Base from the United States, 1960 (Photograph by Enrique Mario Palacio)
The two Balao-class submarines, S-11 ARA Santa Fe and S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero, which served in the Argentine Navy between 1960 and 1971, should not be confused with the later submarines of the same class modernised to GUPPY IA standard—S-21 and S-22—which replaced them from 1971 onwards and carried the same names. In this image, the veteran S-11 and S-12 can be seen at the end of their service life at the Mar del Plata Naval Base, while in the background lies the new S-22 ARA Santiago del Estero, their replacement, ready to take on the duties left behind by its predecessors. The S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero was retired after a decade of service, having taken part in important missions such as Operation Cow Beach, which became a notable chapter in the history of the Argentine Navy. S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero Moored at its Home Pier, Mar del Plata Naval Base.
The First Incursion and an Unexpected Encounter
The first incursion was a success. The men landed and explored the coastline, mapping every detail. However, the second night brought an unexpected twist. In the darkness, García Rabini spotted a kelper—a local island settler—watching them from atop a cliff. They knew that being discovered could spark an unprecedented diplomatic crisis. Acting swiftly, they captured the islander and tied him up as they debated their next move. Killing him was not an option—the mission was one of intelligence gathering, not combat. But they also couldn’t risk the man alerting the British authorities.
Then, an idea emerged—both bold and unusual. Some crew members returned to the submarine to fetch a bottle of whisky from the captain’s cabin. They went back to the cliff and forced the kelper to drink until he was semi-conscious, leaving him behind at the very spot where they had found him. With the mission aborted to avoid further complications, the group returned to the submarine, carrying with them the valuable intelligence they had collected.
Born on 19 March 1927 in Salto, Buenos Aires Province, Juan José Lombardo was a key figure in the history of the Argentine Navy. As a Sub-Lieutenant, he served as Second-in-Command aboard submarine S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero during the successful Operation Cow Beach in the Falkland Islands on 28 October 1966—a mission that would become a landmark in Argentina's intelligence operations in the South Atlantic. On 15 December 1981, by then holding the rank of Vice Admiral, he was summoned by the Chief of Naval Staff, Admiral Jorge Isaac Anaya, to receive a mission that would alter the course of Argentine history: the Falklands.
The Return to Mar del Plata
The journey back to Mar del Plata was as silent as the outbound voyage. Upon arrival, absolute silence was ordered regarding the events that had taken place. None of the participants—not even to their families—were to speak of what had happened in the frigid waters of the South Atlantic. Despite the unforeseen developments, the mission was deemed a success. The data gathered was handed over to the Navy General Staff—a strategic asset that could have proved critical had diplomatic negotiations failed.
The two Balao-class submarines, S-11 ARA Santa Fe and S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero, which served in the Argentine Navy from 1960 to 1971, should not be confused with later submarines of the same class—modernised to GUPPY IA standard—S-21 and S-22, which replaced them from 1971 and bore the same names. In this image, one of the original submarines is seen underway shortly after its arrival in Argentina, already without the forward gun that had been removed as part of its adaptation and modernisation for new missions in the South Atlantic.
Legacy of a Silent Mission
Years later, Commander García Rabini would recall those days with quiet pride, fully aware of the significance of the mission. Although the Cow Beach operation report was not directly used during the 1982 Falklands conflict, it stood as a testament to the commitment and audacity of those sailors who defied history to keep the flame of Argentine sovereignty alive.
The Story of Operation Cow Beach
Interwoven with both legend and fact, the story of Operation Cow Beach remains a hidden episode within the broader struggle over the Falklands—a moment when a small group of men faced the sea, the darkness, and the looming shadows of a war that, though not yet begun, echoed with the weight of the inevitable. It stands as a reminder that the fight for sovereignty is not waged solely on battlefields, but also in silences, in the waves, and in the whisper of the wind on a lonely South Atlantic beach.
Commander Oscar Héctor García Rabini. Now aged 83, retired Commander Oscar Héctor García Rabini is the Argentine naval officer who, in 1966 as a Sub-Lieutenant, led one of the most daring missions in the history of the Argentine Navy. At the head of a special forces incursion, he landed on the shores of East Falkland on 28 October of that year, during the secret Operation Cow Beach. Launched from the depths of the ocean by the submarine S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero, the mission was cloaked in silence and darkness, aimed at collecting vital intelligence to support Argentina’s sovereignty claims over the Falkland Islands/Islas Malvinas.
Cow Beach/Playa Vaca, Southern Tip – Photograph Taken from ARA Santiago del Estero by Miguel Salvatierra, 28/10/1966
Balao-Class Submarine S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero. The Balao-class submarine, formerly the US Navy’s SS-372 USS Lamprey, served the United States from 1944 until 1960, when it was transferred to the Argentine Navy and renamed S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero. In the photograph, the submarine is seen departing from the Mar del Plata Naval Base, home to Argentina’s Submarine Force Command. It operated from this base until 1971, when it was replaced by the S-22 ARA Santiago del Estero—a submarine of the same class but modernised to the GUPPY IA standard. The arrival of this updated vessel marked the end of an era for the veteran S-12, which had taken part in key operations such as Cow Beach, demonstrating the Navy’s steadfast commitment to national sovereignty.
ASW Frigate P-36 ARA Piedrabuena in the Periscope Crosshairs of ARA Santiago del Estero During Combat Exercises
Cargo Transfer Between Submarine ARA Santiago del Estero and Destroyer D-10 ARA San Luis
Surface Navigation of S-12 ARA Santiago del Estero en Route to Its Objective. As a Balao-class submarine that had not undergone the GUPPY IA modernisation, the vessel lacked a snorkel and high-capacity batteries. Consequently, it still had to operate like a Second World War-era submarine—navigating mostly on the surface, at least at night and in low-risk areas.
Demalvinisation refers to the systematic process of minimising, silencing, or discrediting Argentina’s narrative, memory, or national sentiment around the Falklands/Malvinas War and its claim to the islands—particularly after 1982.
After the Battle for the Malvinas, the United Kingdom faced the challenge of constructing an "exportable" doctrine—tailored specifically for Argentina and designed to penetrate the Argentine psyche in order to diminish any sense of national pride that might once again ignite the powerful will to resist, as was shown in 1982.
That experience became the UK's greatest military disaster since the Second World War. London, aware that there can be no defence without first possessing the determination and will to claim what Argentinians know to be rightfully theirs—as demonstrated in the Malvinas—found that the most effective long-term strategy was to suppress Argentina’s will and determination. To that end, they set about engaging Argentine organisations, public figures, and politicians who would actively work to erode national self-esteem while simultaneously convincing the public that the "Malvinas issue" wasn’t so serious or important as to hinder other potential areas of development or cooperation with the UK.
The processes of demalvinisation and the dismantling of Argentina’s Armed Forces were just the tip of the iceberg, the visible portion of a much broader ideological infrastructure that was encouraged, promoted, and even financed by the United Kingdom. Often left out of view are the legislators, businessmen, and high-ranking military officers who silently (and increasingly less so) make up this powerful structure, whose brain operates both from across the Atlantic and from within Argentina itself.
A major triumph of this British strategy—promoted in Argentina by many compatriots—has been the continual downplaying of the Malvinas Conflict, and the construction of a language that, passively and almost unconsciously, has been absorbed by anglophile citizens who have become repeaters of narratives crafted by the British establishment.
Today, we offer a practical guide for recognising an anglophile—whether they are an active participant in that British-built skeleton operating in Argentina, or simply a citizen who dreams of belonging to the "Anglo world" due to national self-esteem issues (proof, if any were needed, that the British plan worked) or a disconnection from their own national identity.
An anglophile, be they civilian, military, or political, is easily identified because, lacking authentic arguments, they always resort to the same language as their "brothers", to favour, promote, and defend British interests in Argentina. Here are some of their most common expressions:
🇬🇧 “The war was a desperate manoeuvre by the Military Junta. A meaningless war.” (Denies the historical background, legal precedents, and international law supporting Argentina’s sovereignty claim.)
🇬🇧 “The only way to recover the Malvinas is through peaceful means.” (In practice, advocates for military dismantling, deliberately ignoring the concept of deterrence. This sort of anglophile would probably consider San Martín merely a murderer for taking up arms in the cause of independence.)
🇬🇧 “We must cooperate with the British in all other areas without jeopardising the sovereignty issue.” (A dangerous anglophile: effectively proposes postponing sovereignty discussions—when they should be a top priority—while encouraging us to “burn through” tools of pressure and cooperation that could strengthen our negotiation stance.)
🇬🇧 “It’s impossible to manufacture national weapons systems—it would take 20 years to develop deterrent technology.” (A mentally colonised anglophile relying on arguments from the 1990s. Well, over 30 years have passed and there’s still been no will to produce anything. The Cóndor II missile took under a decade from design to launch readiness. This kind of anglophile seeks to turn national defence development into a utopia in order to maintain dependency.)
🇬🇧 “The Malvinas would be ours today if we hadn’t started the war in 1982.” (A malicious anglophile who falsely blames Argentina for starting the war and ignores the UK’s original aggression in 1833. This specimen denies Argentina’s right to legitimate self-defence under international law.)
🇬🇧 “We’ll recover the Malvinas when we convince the kelpers (Falklanders) to want to be Argentinian.” (A servile anglophile: not only accepts British occupation, but insists we must “seduce” a population implanted by force—granting them a right to self-determination they do not possess. The kelpers have no legitimate say, being a population settled by an occupying power.)
🇬🇧 “We’ll recover the Malvinas when it becomes too costly for the UK to maintain their defence.” (A sophisticated neo-anglophile: this logic delays urgent action, ignoring that no cost in history has ever deterred the UK from its imperial foothold. In 1982, during a major economic crisis, Britain still dispatched a fleet over 13,000 km. A statement of naïveté or outright irresponsibility.)
🇬🇧 “The Malvinas war was pointless.” (One of the most harmful kinds of anglophiles. This argument was central to demalvinisation and has driven many veterans to take their own lives, believing their fight was meaningless. This type denies all historical, legal, and international support for Argentina’s claim, and supports dismantling the Armed Forces by suggesting they are unnecessary. Also ignores the basic principles of Defence and deterrence.)
🇬🇧 “There are no longer any conflict hypotheses.” (A foolish anglophile: It’s not a hypothesis—there is a conflict. An Argentine province remains under foreign occupation, yet this mantra helps pave the way for disarmament, perfectly aligned with British interests.) Know other anglophile expressions we missed? Let us know in the comments.
Proposal for Changes to Toponymy in Argentina: Restoring the Authentic Indigenous Peoples in the Face of Araucanian/Mapuche Appropriation
Abstract
This report analyses the proposal to modify place names in Argentina by replacing those of Mapuche or Araucanian origin with names in the languages of peoples who were ancestrally settled to the east of the Andes, such as the Tehuelches or Aonikenk. The proposal is based on historical and linguistic evidence demonstrating that the Mapuche are indigenous to the western slopes of the Andes, in what is now Chile, and that their presence in Argentine Patagonia is the result of a relatively recent expansion, beginning in the seventeenth century. The work of anthropologist Rodolfo Casamiquela on this phenomenon will be reviewed, as well as the influence of foreign organisations, such as Mapuche International Links, which promote claims lacking solid historical foundations and exhibiting notable ideological bias.
1. Introduction
Toponymy in Argentina reflects the history of the peoples who have inhabited its territory. However, in recent decades, a movement has emerged seeking to impose a narrative portraying the Mapuche as the sole indigenous people of Patagonia, a claim that contradicts archaeological, anthropological, and linguistic research. Given the importance of historical and territorial identity, this report argues for the need to restore traditional names linked to the truly pre-existing peoples of Argentine Patagonia, primarily the Tehuelches (Aonikenk and Güŋüna Küne) and the Pampas, displacing place names imposed by the Mapuche expansion from Chile.
2. The Trans-Andean Origin of the Araucanians and Their Eastward Expansion
2.1 Historical and Anthropological Evidence
Archaeological and ethnohistorical evidence indicates that the Mapuche did not inhabit eastern Patagonia prior to the seventeenth century. In his work Who Were the Tehuelches? An Ethnicity on the Verge of Extinction (1969), Rodolfo Casamiquela refutes the notion that the Mapuche are the original inhabitants of Argentine territory, documenting their advance from Chile through a process of acculturation and subjugation of the indigenous peoples who had lived there. Casamiquela notes that the term "Araucanisation" refers to the cultural, linguistic, and political imposition of Mapuche influence over the Tehuelches and other groups east of the Andes.
The Tehuelches, comprising groups such as the Aonikenk and Güŋüna Küne, occupied vast areas of Argentine Patagonia from pre-Hispanic times. Their presence has been confirmed through archaeological studies in the central and southern plateaus of the country. In contrast, the Mapuche only appear in the region during relatively recent times, as a result of migrations and interethnic conflicts.
2.2 Linguistic and Cultural Evidence
Casamiquela also highlights the progressive disappearance of the Tehuelche languages due to the process of Mapuchisation. Prior to the seventeenth century, Argentine Patagonia was inhabited by groups who spoke languages distinct from Mapudungun. However, with the Mapuche expansion, these languages were replaced, and today only vestiges remain in toponymy and ethnographic records.
Linguist Viegas Barros (1998) reinforces this view by pointing out that the Tehuelche (Aonikenk) language has its own distinctive roots, separate from Mapudungun, further evidencing that the Aonikenk were the original inhabitants of the region prior to the arrival of the Mapuche.
2.3 The Historical Presence of the Aonikenk and the Late Arrival of the Mapuche
The Aonikenk, commonly referred to as Tehuelches or Patagonians, were the original inhabitants of Argentine Patagonia. Their presence is recorded from the time of European expeditions, such as Magellan’s in 1520 and FitzRoy and Darwin’s explorations in the nineteenth century. Anthropological and linguistic studies have confirmed their existence in the territory since pre-Columbian times.
Anthropologist and historian Rodolfo Casamiquela (1978) was a leading figure in demonstrating the prior presence of the Tehuelches in eastern Patagonia. In his work The Techno-Cultural Areas of Southern Argentina and Chile, he argues that the Mapuche migration eastward across the Andes was a relatively recent phenomenon, and that the Araucanisation of the Tehuelches was a forced process of cultural and linguistic assimilation (Casamiquela, 1978).
Casamiquela maintains that the Mapuche originated from the western side of the Andes and crossed into Argentine territory in search of new resources and trading opportunities, spurred by the introduction of horses brought by the Spanish. This process, which intensified between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, led to a linguistic and cultural replacement that eventually gave rise to the mistaken belief that the Mapuche were Patagonia’s ancestral inhabitants.
Moreover, colonial records and accounts by European travellers confirm that until the mid-eighteenth century, there is no documented Mapuche presence in the Pampas or Patagonia. In contrast, Tehuelche settlements are well documented across vast areas of modern Argentine territory (Bridges, 1948; Borrero, 2001).
3. Toponymy and the Need for Change
Toponymy in Argentina has been profoundly altered by Mapuche expansion. Many names of Tehuelche origin have been replaced by Mapudungun terms as a result of the cultural imposition suffered by these peoples. Clear examples include:
Chubut, originally Tchubut, an Aonikenk word meaning "transparent", although later reinterpreted through a Mapuche phonetic lens.
Neuquén, a Mapuche term that superseded previous names used by the indigenous peoples of the area.
Río Negro, a region originally populated by the Pampas and Güŋüna Küne before the Mapuche arrival.
A process of restoring ancestral place names would be an act of historical justice, allowing the true identity of the peoples who inhabited Argentina prior to Mapuche expansion to be reclaimed.
Cities and Regions in the Province of Buenos Aires with Araucanian Names That Could Be Changed to Their Corresponding Aonikenk (or Spanish) Equivalents
4. External Interference: Mapuche International Links and Its Role in Historical Distortion
4.1 Origin and Composition of the Organisation
One of the main sources supporting the narrative of Mapuche ancestral presence in Patagonia is the organisation Mapuche International Links, whose website (https://www.mapuche-nation.org/) promotes a biased version of history. Strikingly, this organisation is headquartered in the United Kingdom and funded by British sources, raising questions about its true interests in the region.
Moreover, its composition is highly irregular: although it presents itself as an organisation defending the Mapuche people, only one of its members is of Chilean origin, while the rest are British citizens. This imbalance suggests that the organisation may be operating with a covert geopolitical agenda rather than a genuine interest in indigenous rights.
4.2 Lack of Evidence Behind Their Claims
Mapuche International Links bases its claims on oral tradition without archaeological or documentary support. Historical sources from Argentina and Chile, including the chronicles of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century missionaries and travellers, confirm that the Mapuche did not inhabit eastern Patagonia prior to the process of Araucanisation. Their arrival resulted from a series of migratory movements that, in many cases, involved the conquest and assimilation of local peoples.
The insistence on an alleged "ancestral" Mapuche presence in Argentine Patagonia lacks foundation and appears to be driven more by political and economic interests than by historical reality.
5. Conclusion and Recommendations
The revision of toponymy in Argentina is a matter of historical justice for the peoples who are truly indigenous to the territory. Given that the Mapuche presence in Argentine Patagonia is the result of a recent expansion rather than an ancestral occupation, it is necessary to restore names of Tehuelche, Aonikenk, and Pampa origin, replacing those imposed through Mapuche influence.
It is also crucial to highlight the interference of foreign organisations such as Mapuche International Links, whose agenda appears more aligned with external interests than with the historical reality of Argentina's indigenous peoples. Identifying and studying these actors will provide a clearer understanding of the political background behind the attempted manipulation of historical narratives.
The restoration of authentic toponymy not only corrects a historical distortion but also reinforces national identity and preserves the memory of the true indigenous peoples of Argentine Patagonia. Unfortunately, the Universidad Nacional de Buenos Aires — misleadingly presenting itself as a private institution under the name Universidad de Buenos Aires (UBA) — strengthens this cultural invasion by offering courses in the language of the invading group. The Universidad Nacional del Comahue is also involved in this cultural and indigenist invasion, promoting the hoisting of the Araucanian flag and endorsing absurd pre-Columbian festivities.
In light of the analysis presented, it is reasonable to propose a review of the current toponymy in Argentina with the aim of restoring names that more accurately reflect the historical and cultural identity of the region. This would involve:
Replacing Mapuche names with Aonikenk/Tehuelche denominations, recognising their earlier presence in Patagonia and the Pampas.
Promoting historical and linguistic research to recover the original names of rivers, mountains, and localities prior to Araucanisation.
Raising public awareness of the true history of Argentina's indigenous peoples, avoiding ideological manipulation or foreign interests in the construction of artificial identities.
References
Borrero, L. (2001). Los Tehuelches: Historia y Arqueología de un Pueblo Nómade.
Bridges, L. (1948). Uttermost Part of the Earth.
Casamiquela, R. (1969). ¿Quiénes eran los Tehuelches? Una etnia en vías de extinción. Buenos Aires: Eudeba.
Viegas Barros, J. (1998). Estudios sobre la lengua tehuelche. Universidad de Buenos Aires.
Mandrini, R. (2006). Los pueblos originarios de la Argentina: su historia desde los primeros pobladores hasta la conquista europea. Buenos Aires: Eudeba.
Crónicas de viajeros y misioneros del siglo XVIII y XIX sobre los tehuelches y mapuches.
This report proposes a concrete action for the recovery of Patagonia’s historical identity, based on available archaeological, linguistic, and historical evidence. Below is a list of locations named using terms from the Araucanian/Mapuche language under the "Mapuche" column, with approximate translations into English and Aonikenk provided in the corresponding columns. It is proposed that Araucanian toponyms be replaced with their equivalents in either Spanish or Aonikenk.
As part of the cultural battle against false indigenism, which portrays the Araucanian people as victims, it is necessary to follow the path of historical evidence to restore the cultural heritage of the peoples who genuinely inhabited Patagonia.
Places with Araucanian Toponymy and Their Translation, Where Feasible, into the Aonikenk Language
