The Target Of Blindness


Some updates from the EU are very worrying, since the strength of the Euro, inversely proportional to its power in the world, until the desire to escape out of the system by many States. And on the political front is even worse. On the screen, in speeches and during talk shows parade the orphans of the flea, the nostalgic, the tenacious, those who do not want to lose their illusions. Fast forward with clenched fist, singing the dark songs of Khrushchev and Dzerzinskij, who were in favor of an organized terrorism, even if sometimes the sword strikes the innocents. “When you cut the forest” they said, “even the chips fly”. Cruelty has no color: there are always, everywhere, bandits who protect and justify themselves with the generous targets. There are symbols that appear to be associated with an idea of ​​dark literature: GPU, NKVD, KGB, and the ghosts of the Lubjanka. Who is in line, coherent, deserves respect; the indomitable, however, seem increasingly out of place, sickly blind and dangerous. They also become pathetic when they organize demonstrations with symbols buried by history. 

Since 1917, two billion of people marched in procession along the red flags, and at the end of the journey they found a loud Nothing. They hoped that the workers of the world could be unite, despite the echo of “friend gunfire” was killing companions in Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Chechnya. That philosophy represented the “downside” of Nazism. The recasts did not follow the record, or understood the past: that Bolshevik party was the master of power, and as Raymond Aron wrote it represented “instead of the working class, a ruling class that climbed the charts after a bloody deleting of the old”. Everyone knows that the Nomenklatura lived better than his beloved miners, or his dear metal workers. What they would say the witnesses of those years, who had been suffered first and then overthrown, mocking, the vices of the false Democrats, the tribe of professional politicians? What would have made ​​those who were aware that the Liberals, among whom they grew up, did nothing against the Nazis? With the Wall, which divided the two worlds, collapsed a dream of human redemption: the hope of justice. And the bill was payed by four generations of intellectuals. Why, then, we must insist in blindness? After nearly a century of sacrifice, of untold suffering, the castle of utopias collapsed. The word “comrade” has disappeared even from the Soviet vocabulary; the last time I heard it pronounce it was two months ago, at the end of a lesson in a school. But it had a different value.