Two years ago I was returning from a trip I had made a few days after my sister’s suicide. Only those who have experienced the suicide of someone so close to them can understand the emotional state in which the rest of us are left.
The last days of that trip had seen by YouTube As the siege increased Cristina in her own home, the militants mobilized to protect her, after the brutal attack on her office for which no official responsible for the areas took responsibility.
One of those nights from 14 thousand kilometers away I saw how they repressed my comrades in Uruguay and Juncallike the police of PRO He insulted and attacked our militancy without hesitation. The helplessness is greater from afar and when sadness permeates your being.
On August 31st I returned to Buenos Aires and the intrepid Prosecutor Luciani He had already made his media and delirious argument, adding fuel to the fire of growing hatred. Until that moment, all that crossed my mind was the inaction of “our government” in the name of a non-existent and corrupt “institutionality.” The rage of seeing a slow and dormant leadership that was pushed by the militancy to appear and show its face.
On September 1st I was watching TV, having dinner and thinking about those things, when I was surprised by the attempted murderMillions of us saw it and I think political affiliation didn’t matter at that moment, the stupor and terror took hold of souls. We were witnessing a miracle, I write “miracle” and remember that I am an atheist, but that was what I felt seconds after the impact of the images.
Two years of impunity: who ordered Cristina’s murder?
The phone kept ringing and the shared feeling that we had reached an incredible point, which was the breaking of the democratic pact, spread like wildfire.
Sometimes collective pains help to soothe personal pains, sometimes they mix together and everything is part of that dark cloud that feels like company. The latter happened to me. A dark and sticky cloud clouded my thoughts, however, the only effect of lucidity that I had was a question: “Who ordered her to be killed?”
The reaction of the national government was of a superlative stupidity, at best. Within a few hours, one high official was heard talking about “lone wolves”, others looked the other way and assured that “everything was in the hands of the”Justice”. “Justice”, paradoxically one of the strongest legs of the stigmatization apparatus and promoter of hatred towards the two-time Argentine president.
After a deafening silence of three hours, from the Pink House A holiday was announced for the next day. An announcement as stupid as the reactions and comments on television that were circulating without rhyme or reason at the time.
The next day we all went to the Plaza, we didn’t really know why we were going, maybe to hug each other and feel less alone in the face of the most brutal attack against democracy, social peace, the life of everyone. Because if that bullet had gone out, history would be different today.
I am 53 years old and I have been going to marches and demonstrations since I was 12, when my parents took me to demand that there be no “Amnesty for the military” back in 1982. I had never, ever felt fear, that fear that freezes the blood, that makes movements mechanical and the state of alert is so overwhelming that the blood flows like a crazy torrent through the body. That day I felt fear for the first time. Fear that some madman would take out a gun and shoot into the crowd, fear that the police of the PRO appear to massacre us, fear for the future, fear for the Homeland, fear for everything that we knew we had lost.
Today marks two years of impunity. We are witnessing a trial that judges the “patsies” of history, but the masterminds, instigators and financiers are not in the dock. We all know who they are. It does not take much lucidity, just by looking at the newspapers of those days they appear clearly.
Neither the investigating judge nor the prosecutor who contributed to erasing evidence from the very beginning are being questioned, nor are the officials of our government who did not foresee the attack being questioned, nor are the leaders who half-heartedly expressed their hope that she, who had been the one they tried to kill, would take some course of action.
Something broke on September 1, 2022, something changed us and the present in which we live today is the product of that rupture for which we are all responsible, by action or omission.
Pain and anger will have to be transformed into a collective struggle, as the Mothers and Grandmotherswe must honour our history of martyrs, bombs and disappearances with actions that rise to the occasion.
We will have to believe again that politics is much more than the superstructure, the individual decisions and the spasmodic actions of new NGOs.
We will have to look inward seriously and stop following the media pastors who were once journalists as parishioners, regardless of which side they are on. We will have to go a little deeper into thinking beyond a post on social media.
We will have to weave nests that shelter a militancy that is tired and overwhelmed by the reality that surrounds us and without threads to intertwine.
If we continue along this path, national dissolution will be the much-feared reality.
Source: Ambito
David William is a talented author who has made a name for himself in the world of writing. He is a professional author who writes on a wide range of topics, from general interest to opinion news. David is currently working as a writer at 24 hours worlds where he brings his unique perspective and in-depth research to his articles, making them both informative and engaging.
