An inexcusable error that cost the government its voice in a murder case
En el sur de Chile, donde el conflicto entre el Estado y las comunidades mapuche lleva décadas sin resolverse, la muerte de un carabinero dejó a su familia sin justicia institucional por una razón que pocos habrían anticipado: un abogado del gobierno durmió durante la audiencia clave. El caso del oficial Francisco Benavides, emboscado y asesinado en 2021, se convirtió en espejo de algo más profundo que una negligencia individual —la fragilidad de los procesos institucionales ante lo imprevisto, y el peso que recae sobre quienes los sostienen.
- El Estado chileno podría quedar excluido del juicio por el asesinato de uno de sus propios agentes, simplemente porque su representante legal no se presentó a la audiencia del 13 de junio.
- El abogado Luis Martínez Pezo afirma haber caído en un sueño profundo tras recibir un analgésico intravenoso en su domicilio la noche anterior, y no despertar hasta que la audiencia ya había concluido.
- El subsecretario del Interior Manuel Monsalve actuó con rapidez y firmeza, calificando la ausencia de 'error inexcusable' y anunciando el despido antes de que el propio abogado fuera notificado por canales oficiales.
- Martínez Pezo rechazó la caracterización, invocando ocho años de servicio sin reproches bajo tres gobiernos distintos, y denunció que su reputación fue destruida públicamente sin darle oportunidad de responder.
- El caso Ancalaf sigue su curso, pero la participación del gobierno en la acusación ha quedado comprometida, y lo que comenzó como una emergencia médica se transformó en una crisis política e institucional.
En mayo de 2021, el carabinero Francisco Benavides fue asesinado en una emboscada en La Araucanía, región del sur de Chile marcada por un conflicto histórico con comunidades mapuche. Era casado y tenía tres hijos. Los principales sospechosos del crimen son los hermanos Heriberto y Matías Ancalaf, hijos de un exdirigente del movimiento mapuche.
Más de un año después, el gobierno tenía hasta el 13 de junio de 2022 para sumarse formalmente a la acusación. Luis Martínez Pezo, abogado de la delegación presidencial en la región, era el responsable de presentar esa adhesión. No llegó a la audiencia. El plazo venció sin que el Estado registrara su posición, lo que podría dejarlo completamente fuera del proceso judicial.
La explicación de Martínez Pezo generó tanto incredulidad como debate: la noche del 12 de junio, un médico lo visitó en su domicilio y le administró un analgésico intravenoso para tratar un dolor crónico agudo. El efecto fue tan intenso que durmió sin interrupciones hasta las 6:30 de la mañana del día 14. Para entonces, todo había terminado.
El subsecretario del Interior, Manuel Monsalve, anunció su despido y calificó la ausencia de 'error inexcusable'. Martínez Pezo se enteró de su destitución por los medios de comunicación, no por sus superiores. Respondió con indignación: ocho años de servicio bajo tres administraciones, dijo, no merecían ese trato. Reconoció las consecuencias legales de su ausencia, pero insistió en que fue una emergencia médica, no una falla de responsabilidad.
El incidente se convirtió en símbolo de algo que trasciende a un abogado y una pastilla: la vulnerabilidad de las instituciones ante lo inesperado, y el modo en que un solo momento puede alterar el curso de un caso que importa a toda una nación.
In the southern Chilean region of La Araucanía, a police officer named Francisco Benavides was killed in May 2021 during an ambush by radical Mapuche activists. He was married and had three children. More than a year later, the government's case against the suspected killers—two brothers named Heriberto and Matías Ancalaf, sons of a former Mapuche movement leader—hinged on a single court date: June 13, 2022.
The government had until that day to formally join the prosecution. Luis Martínez Pezo, a lawyer working for the presidential delegation in La Araucanía, was responsible for making sure the state's position was entered into the record. He did not show up. The deadline passed. The government's opportunity to participate in the case appeared to have closed entirely.
When Interior Ministry officials learned what had happened, they moved quickly. Manuel Monsalve, the Interior Subsecretary, announced that Martínez Pezo had been fired. Monsalve called the absence an "inexcusable error"—language that suggested not mere incompetence but something closer to dereliction. The stakes were real: without the government's formal participation, the state could be locked out of the entire judicial process, unable to present evidence or arguments about who killed one of its own officers.
Martínez Pezo's explanation, when it came, was unusual. On the evening of June 12, he said, a doctor had visited his home and administered an intravenous painkiller to treat a chronic condition that had been causing him severe pain that day. The medication worked—perhaps too well. He fell into what he described as a deep, uninterrupted sleep that lasted until 6:30 in the morning on June 14. By then, the hearing was over. The deadline had expired while he slept.
The lawyer's account sparked immediate controversy across Chile. Political figures and ordinary citizens debated whether his explanation was credible, whether it was his responsibility to have set an alarm, whether a government lawyer should have arranged backup coverage for such a critical date. The story became a symbol of something larger: the apparent dysfunction within the state's handling of a high-profile case involving the death of a police officer and the country's long-running conflict with Mapuche activists in the south.
When Martínez Pezo learned of his dismissal, he found out through the news media rather than through official channels. He responded with anger and a defense of his record. He had worked for the government for eight years across three different administrations, he said, without incident or complaint. He accused Monsalve of disrespecting a professional and damaging his reputation. He acknowledged that his absence had serious legal consequences, but he framed it as a medical emergency beyond his control, not a failure of duty or judgment.
The case itself remained in motion. The Ancalaf brothers faced charges related to Benavides' death. But the government's role in the prosecution had been compromised by a single night of medicated sleep, and a lawyer's career had ended in public humiliation. The incident exposed the fragility of institutional processes and the way a single moment—a doctor's house call, a medication's side effect, a missed alarm—could reshape the trajectory of a significant criminal case.
Citações Notáveis
An inexcusable error. The ministry has decided to terminate the lawyer.— Manuel Monsalve, Interior Subsecretary
I worked eight years for three governments with no problems. Monsalve is disrespecting a professional and damaging my reputation.— Luis Martínez Pezo, dismissed government lawyer
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would a government lawyer be solely responsible for such a critical deadline? Shouldn't there be systems in place to prevent this kind of failure?
You'd think so. But in practice, individual lawyers often carry the weight of these moments. There's no mention in the reporting of backup counsel or redundant notification systems. It's a structural vulnerability that probably exists in many government offices.
The medication explanation—do you find it credible?
It's plausible medically. Intravenous painkillers can absolutely cause deep sedation. But the real question isn't whether it happened; it's whether a lawyer handling a case this important should have arranged coverage before taking medication he knew might incapacitate him.
He worked eight years without incident. Does that matter?
It matters to him, clearly. But from the government's perspective, this wasn't a minor mistake. A police officer was dead. Two suspects were in the system. And the state's voice was about to be permanently silenced in the proceedings. One good record doesn't erase that consequence.
What happens to the case now?
The reporting doesn't say explicitly, but the implication is that the government may have lost its formal standing as a party to the prosecution. That's a massive procedural loss. The case continues, but without the state's direct participation.
And Martínez Pezo?
He's out of a job, publicly humiliated, and defending himself through the media because no one told him officially he was fired. That's its own kind of institutional failure.