In defense of the bare survival
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A salary that isn’t much, but is secure. A so-so health system, but one that does exist. A so-so education system, but one that takes care of the children for one third of the day. A church or mosque located at every corner, for appeasing the souls. Loans that are easily obtained, as banks give preferences to those who are under the protection of the captivated state. And a television set. What more does one need?
I understand them. Under the mantle of morality and discipline, I see the sweet calf-ish enjoyment in the stalks of grass, with a few clovers crackling under the teeth. It’s combined with the sense of gentleness and obedience, a gentle tremble of feeling protected by something or someone big and powerful. Who knows everything about them. From time to time, that feeling of gentleness and obedience is replaced with the feeling of inspiration stemming from love towards the Protector and hate towards everyone who poses a danger to him.
This is understandable. He, the Protector, has given them or allowed them everything they have. And it seems certain as long as He possesses the power. First there was hope and anticipation for promises to be fulfilled, and then there was the satisfaction of that fulfilment. No matter how much these “fulfilled promises” differ from their hopes, and how little the portions of these promises have been served, being satisfied with what one has is a good enough (logic) argument for one to stay kneeling on their knees and to nod with their heads in a slavishly obedient manner. And fear. The fear of losing the little things one has. The fear of thinking differently, to not look different, to not make moves with the body that just might be different from the usual rhythms of the group. To not forget to be as far as possible fulfilled and diligent. To not be interpreted in the wrong way, while the intention was just for one to make a joke. And freedom there is! Quite enough. Perhaps even more than one needs. Choices can only confuse and spoil the character. There is freedom as much as you want, outside the circle of God’s temple and the circle of the Political Party, outlined with invisible chalk. That invisible chalk, is everywhere just like a steel barbed wire. At school, where children could end up be at the mercy of political party guards, or where they could receive punishments, poor behavior or lower grades, or even get beaten by other children who better understand party catechism. At the doctor’s office, where you need to wait longer if you’re not in the favor of the Protector, who sees and hears everything. At work, which was hard to find, but could be easily lost. At the bank, which can seize your warm home and leave you on the streets. On the streets, where the reproachful look of the neighbors is like a rusty razor burn on the neck, forehead and cheeks.
Why should something be lost that was gained through obedience, and not with skills that, nevertheless, are lacking. Why should we open up our minds and allow for knowledge to be absorbed, when this could cause us headaches and it could upset our souls, when we can just remain still in the mild shadow of ignorance? Everything you need to know is on TV. There is no need for them to meddle in the work of those providing them the dry bread, and much more than that. That is why I understand them when, filled with anger, they attack all those who think. They feel even more anger and aggression when someone dares to speak. Differently! That is the mortal enemy of everything they have. For many years, they have been intimidated that the enemy is lurking everywhere around. The different ones want to steal their land, the country. The different ones, are prepared to burn their houses and rape their wives and daughters. The mercenaries of dark forces lurk over their lives and can enter into the TV.
I understand them, because when they hate, they have the feeling that by this they are defending the threshold of their own home and their bare survival. It is hard to find a job. Especially when no skills, breadth of mind or free thinking is required for that job, but, rather obedience and slavish nodding of the head. I understand them. I understand all of them, although I cannot and do not want to accept them.
It’s just that sometimes, I would like to know if they are at least a bit ashamed of what they are representing and of what they are doing.
Published in the printed version of “Sloboden pecat” on February 4, 2016 and also in Plusinfo.