Gustavo Gac-Artigas: Impotencia, el odio prevalece sobre la paz

Impotencia, el odio prevalece sobre la paz

* Gustavo Gac-Artigas

En mi vida he dado luchas titánicas, muchas de ellas sabiendo que estaría en el campo perdedor, pero nunca dejé de darlas, por eso de esa terrible necesidad de sentirme humano, de luchar contra la injusticia, de desear un mundo mejor, más justo para mi hija, para mi hijo, para los míos, aquellos que sufren en el mundo.

Hoy me siento impotente, pareciera que el mundo hiciera caso omiso de las pestes, de la guerra, del terrorismo --el de Estado y el de pequeños grupos de fanáticos--, pareciera que no podemos vivir en paz, respetar al “otro”, ese “otro” con el cual hacemos gárgaras, para luego despreciarlo, olvidarlo, asesinarlo.

Nos declaramos amigos, y sin embargo damos armas al amigo para que parta en guerra, damos armas al amigo para que mate al otro, no para que se defienda, para que nos compre armas --la guerra siempre es un buen negocio--, la paz cuesta caro, y más encima cuesta mantenerla, hay que reconstruir y apagar el hambre. La paz es una utopía para perdedores, es una palabra vacía para permitirnos sentirnos humanos.

Llevamos años declarándonos paladines de la “democracia”, y sin embargo, creamos las condiciones para el advenimiento de dictaduras, autocracias, populismos.

Adoramos, en secreta secta, la desigualdad, esa que nos permite vivir bien a costa del “otro” ese “otro” que alimenta nuestra riqueza, pero no merece vivir junto a “nosotros”, los “otros” esos del privilegio, los de cuna, los con techo, con futuro, un futuro anclado en el pasado de nuestros antepasados, puesto que para cada “otro” hay “otro”.

Hoy me desperté aterrado, era un judío en un kibutz, era un palestino en Gaza, era un ser humano aterrado frente a la barbarie. No podía clamar al cielo puesto que del cielo llovía muerte, no podía cerrar la puerta puesto que esta se había perdido entre las ruinas de mi casa.

Hoy fui judío y fui palestino, hoy fui el “otro”, el ocupante y el ocupado, hoy doy una nueva batalla, inútil batalla, pedí auxilio, me ofrecen armas, no palabras.

Hoy me levanté aterrorizado, triste e impotente ser humano.

* Escritor, poeta, dramaturgo y director de teatro chileno, miembro correspondiente de la Academia Norteamericana de la Lengua Española. Reside en los EE. UU.

Impotence, Hatred Prevails Over Peace

*Gustavo Gac-Artigas

Translation: Priscilla Gac-Artigas

In my life, I have fought titanic battles, many of them knowing that I would be on the losing camp, but I never stopped fighting, for that terrible need to feel human, to fight against injustice, to yearn for a better world, a fairer one for my daughter, for my son, for my loved ones, those who suffer in the world.

 

Today, I feel powerless. It seems like the world is turning a blind eye to plagues, war, terrorism—both state-sponsored and from small groups of fanatics. It seems that we cannot live in peace, that we cannot respect the “other,” that “other” with whom we gargle, only to later despise, forget, and even murder.

 

We declare ourselves friends, yet we provide weapons to our friends to go to war. We give arms to our friends to kill the other, not to defend themselves, but to buy weapons from us—war is always a good business. Peace is expensive, and on top of that, it’s costly to maintain, we must rebuild and quell hunger. Peace is a utopia for losers, an empty word to allow us to feel human.

 

For years, we have proclaimed ourselves champions of “democracy,” yet we create conditions for the advent of dictatorships, autocracies, and populism.

 

In a secret cult, we worship inequality, the kind that allows us to live well at the expense of the “other.” That “other” who fuels our wealth but doesn’t deserve to live alongside “us,” the privileged, those born with a roof over our heads, with a future rooted in the past of our ancestors because for every “other,” there is yet “another.”

 

Today, I woke up terrified. I was a Jew in a kibbutz; I was a Palestinian in Gaza. I was a terrified human being in the face of barbarism. I couldn’t cry out to heaven because death was raining from the sky. I couldn’t close the door because it had disappeared amid the ruins of my home.

 

Today, I was a Jew and a Palestinian, today, I was the “other,” the occupier and the occupied, today, I fight a new battle, a futile battle. I asked for help, and they offer me weapons, not words.

Today, I woke up terrified, a sad and impotent human being.

*Gustavo Gac-Artigas, Chilean writer, poet, playwright, and theater director, corresponding member of the North American Academy of the Spanish Language (ANLE). He lives in the United States.

Priscilla Gac-Artigas, PhD, Fulbright Scholar, Full Member of the North American Academy of the Spanish Language (ANLE), corresponding member of the RAE, Professor of Latin American Literature at Monmouth University, NJ.