Tag Archives: socialism

The chieftain’s loneliness – La soledad del caudillo

Carlos Toranzo writes in Pagina Siete:

The chieftain’s loneliness

November 2019 gave you a very hard mallet in the head. When you had power it was difficult for you to quit, you got used to it as if it were part of your body; having it, it was no longer necessary for you to bend down to tie the shoelaces, there were many who crouched down to do so, not for admiration, but for looking good with you, for fear of your reprisals or with the intention of investing to climb a bit On the ladder of power.

Having power, the prettiest women, the misses, the TV presenters approached you, asked you to dance with them, even some offered you marriage; but of course, before you have that power, they didn’t look at you, they didn’t speak to you. As everyone knows, the best love concoction is power, with it your height increased, your merits grew. They said that your profile was the perfect one, that your eyes were fascinating, that your eyes were deep, that your words were enlightening and prophetic, that your crib was the best to become history, a museum.

With power increased the cohort that applauded you, that pampered you, that loved you, that worshiped you. There were ministers who wrote books about your history, about your greatness, about your ideas, even if you didn’t have any; about your plans to save the country and save the world from the crisis, from disasters, from the evils of capitalism and from the evils of the eye as well.

When you had power, you no longer needed to think about what to eat, there were many who wanted to relieve you of the heavy burden of chewing, there were obese ones that brought you the plate, that filled your glass; they generated the ability to anticipate knowing your cravings and your hatreds. There were several who set the table for you, which tasted your food so that you are certain that you are not poisoned; They were in charge of telling the world that your tastes were the best.

You didn’t have to think about where to travel, who to visit, because they presented you with the best travel plans, girls included. The obsecuents lined up to see how the tailors, the designers measured you, tried on the costumes that were best suited to the world; they took care of choosing your sportswear, they suggested pajamas, shirts, t-shirts, polos and shoes that go better with your outfit.

Of course, they never chose the books you should read; in the attempt they could get less than they bargained for, but to make your life easy they made summaries of any brochure, even of Turkish novels, in which you said you were a specialist. They even relieved you of hatred, for those nearby circles suggested how to punish, how to prosecute those who did not commune with you. They made lists of the prosecuted, they told you how to punish those who disagreed with your word and your success.

What they did was try to gain merit to continue climbing the ladder of power, with those attitudes they sought to gain your appreciation and get your favors. They were nothing if you took them away from your power, like Choquehuanca; they knew that they would lose the favors and powers you lent them faster if you lowered your thumb.

Those obsequious ones told you stories every day by placing you in the center, they told you that you were the core of the world, the predestined to save humanity; that is why when you looked at yourself in the mirror, what you heard with recurrence were the psalms that they prayed in your honor; your mirror was no longer the one before, where the flat glass showed you what you were, your new mirror was the one you built with the songs of praise that they sang every day in your honor; with the words of admiration for your person, for your ability to govern, for your wisdom to know the world, for your ability to know the future and to build it in your own likeness.

This mirror that told you how big you were, was the mirror of Greece, of Rome, of Moscow, of Havana, of Caracas, in every place where very great powers were created; power transformed people, until they dehumanized them, usually turned them into machines of the reproduction of power. But in all those places, despite the entourage of obsequents, despite the hundreds of “intimates” who raised prayers for the owner of power, he used to be surrounded by loneliness.

The owner of power is usually a loner who mistrusts his environment, but who does not hate the power, but, first of all, wants to keep him from falling into a reality where it makes him human. But you fell, you know that the cemetery is full of irreplaceable. Your loneliness will be too great because hate guides your life; You long for power and you want armed militias to recover it. But, your time has passed.

Carlos Toranzo Roca is an economist.

====versión español====

La soledad del caudillo

Noviembre de 2019 te dio un mazo muy duro en la cabeza. Cuando tuviste poder te fue difícil dejarlo, te acostumbraste a él como si fuera parte de tu cuerpo; al tenerlo ya no era necesario que te agaches a anudar los cordones de tus zapatos, había muchos que se agachaban para hacerlo, no por admiración, sino por quedar bien contigo, por temor a tus represalias o con la intención de invertir para subir un poco en la escalera del poder.

Al tener poder, las mujeres más bonitas, las misses, las presentadoras de TV se te acercaron, te pedían bailar con ellas, hasta algunas te ofrecieron matrimonio; pero claro, antes de que tengas ese poder, no te miraban, no te dirigían la palabra. Como bien saben todos, el mejor brebaje amoroso es el poder, con él aumentó tu estatura, crecieron tus méritos. Por él decían que tu perfil era el perfecto, que tus ojos eran de fascinación, que tu mirada era profunda, que tus palabras eran esclarecedoras y proféticas, que tu cuna era la mejor para convertirte en historia, en museo. 

Con el poder aumentó la cohorte que te aplaudió, que te mimó, que te quiso, que te adoró. Hubo ministros que escribieron libros sobre tu historia, sobre tus grandezas, sobre tus ideas, aunque no hayas tenido ninguna; sobre tus planes de salvar al país y salvar al mundo de la crisis, de los desastres, de los males del capitalismo y de los males de ojo también.

Cuando tenías poder ya no necesitabas pensar qué comer, hubo muchos que quisieron aliviarte la pesada carga de masticar, hubo  obsecuentes que te traían el plato, que te llenaban el vaso; ellos generaron la capacidad de adelantarse a conocer tus antojos y tus odios. Hubo varios que te ponían la mesa, que probaban tu comida para que tengas la certeza de no ser envenenado; ellos se encargaron  de decirle al mundo que tus gustos eran los mejores.

No tenías que pensar dónde viajar, a quién visitar, pues te presentaban los mejores planes de viaje, muchachas incluidas. Los obsecuentes hacían fila para ver cómo los sastres, los modistos te medían, te probaban los trajes que ante el mundo eran los que te quedaban mejor; ellos se encargaron de escoger tu ropa deportiva, te sugirieron los pijamas, las camisas, camisetas, poleras y zapatos que vayan mejor con tu atuendo. 

Claro, nunca escogieron los libros que debiste leer; en el intento pudieron salir trasquilados, pero para hacerte fácil la vida te hacían resúmenes de cualquier folleto, hasta de novelas turcas, en las cuales dijiste ser especialista. Hasta te aliviaron del odio, pues esos círculos cercanos te sugerían cómo castigar, cómo enjuiciar a los que no comulgaban contigo. Ellos hicieron las listas de los enjuiciados, te dijeron cómo castigar a quienes disentían de tu palabra y de tu éxito. 

Lo que hacían era tratar de ganar méritos para seguir subiendo en la escalera del poder, con esas actitudes buscaban ganar tu aprecio y conseguir tus favores. Ellos eran nada si los alejabas de tu poder, como Choquehuanca; ellos sabían que perderían más rápido los favores y los poderes que les prestaste si les bajabas el índice.

Esos obsecuentes cada día te contaban historias colocándote en el centro, te decían que eras el núcleo de mundo, el predestinado para salvar  a la humanidad;  por eso cuando tú te mirabas ante el espejo, lo que oías con recurrencia eran los salmos que ellos rezaban en tu honor; tu espejo ya no era el antes, donde el vidrio plano te mostraba cual eras, tu espejo nuevo fue el que construiste con los cánticos de alabanza que cada día cantaban en tu honor; con las palabras de admiración por tu persona, por tu destreza para gobernar, por tu sapiencia para conocer el mundo, por tu capacidad de conocer el futuro y de construirlo a tu semejanza.

Este espejo que te contaba cuán grande eras, era el espejo de Grecia, de Roma, de Moscú, de La Habana, de Caracas, en cada lugar donde se  crearon poderes muy grandes; el poder transformó a las personas, hasta deshumanizarlas, usualmente las convertía en máquinas de la reproducción del poder. Pero en todos esos lugares, a pesar del séquito de obsecuentes, a pesar de las centenas de los “íntimos” que  elevaban oraciones por el dueño del poder, éste solía estar cercado por la soledad. 

El dueño del poder normalmente es un solitario que desconfía de su entorno, pero que no por ello detesta el poder, sino que, ante todo, desea mantenerlo para no caer rendido a una realidad donde ella lo convierta en humano. Pero ya caíste, ya sabes que el cementerio está lleno de insustituibles. Tu soledad será demasiado grande porque el odio guía tu vida; añoras el poder y deseas milicias armadas para recuperarlo. Pero, ya pasó tu hora.

Carlos Toranzo Roca es economista.

https://www.paginasiete.bo/opinion/carlos-toranzo-roca/2020/1/22/la-soledad-del-caudillo-244174.html