In these dramatic hours for Afghanistan and for the whole world I think with anger at the rhetoric with which wars are always packaged. And to the lies of the state with which the indecent interests that are behind the scenes of every war are hidden. And I think with even more anger at the conformism and the emergency climate which, in times of war, put the gag on democracy. Those who criticized the war in Afghanistan and then in Iraq were singled out as defeatist, anti-patriotic or even an accomplice of the terrorists. Gino Strada was an exalted utopian: and today, when he is dead, he must be considered as a saint but not read through the lens of politics (poor Gino, stripped of the meaning of his words and actions and placed on a cloud, with a halo in head!). And we of the radical left were talking crickets to be crushed with the hammer of the single thought of the humanitarian and democratic war.
When I see the devastating images of the crowd fleeing Kabul or the assault on the airport I think of a word I rarely use: cowardice. Cowardly was the war with which we said to “export democracy” while exporting heavy artillery and colonial arrogance. In return, we imported the crafts of terror throughout the West and gave arguments to Islam stuffed with TNT. Vile was to look for enemies not where they were trained and financed, in the Koranic schools of Pakistan or in the royal palaces of Saudi Arabia, but in the mountains and deserts of tribal Afghanistan. US interests, which dominate global geopolitics, have changed geographic and criminal maps, and so we are back where the Soviets were bogged down, in the most inaccessible hinterland, in the perfect trap for both technological and ignorant conquerors of a complex history. even more complex than a very complex geography. And today the bipartisan cowardice of the fleeing West, the surrender signed by Trump and implemented by Biden, the haste to escape from twenty years of occupation, leaving the way open for those who want to turn off the lights and colors and hope of a people , because the supply of humanitarian purposes was suddenly exhausted and the trade in democracy was interrupted: as in that old song “the music is over, the friends are leaving”.
The trick is now revealed, but with a steep price of dead, refugees, people locked up in their homes who pray to God not to be killed in the name of God. And that obscene club of males, with their cutthroat omnipotence, proclaim the return. of their saving hell. A patriarchy baptized with blood and petrodollars. While the West is closing in on its own frontier, celebrating the successes of the military industry and crying over the fate of Afghan girls. At least save us from tears.
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