More than 50 years have passed since Uruguay won the World Cup in the immense stadium in Maracana, Brazil. Ever since, betrayed by reality, we have sought solace in memory. If we could learn from this, all would be well, but that isn’t the case: we take refuge in nostalgia when we feel that we have been abandoned by hope, because hope requires daring and nostalgia requires nothing.
One country bombed two countries. Such impunity might astound were it not business as usual. In response to the few timid protests from the international community, Israel said mistakes were made. How much longer will horrors be called mistakes? This slaughter of civilians began with the kidnapping of a soldier.
The Berlin Wall made the news every day. From dawn to dusk we read about it, heard about it and saw it: the Wall of Shame, the Wall of Infamy, the Iron Curtain. But the Moroccan Wall, which for 20 years has perpetuated Morocco’s occupation of Western Sahara, goes unmentioned altogether.
Wars give noble reasons for why they occur: international security, national dignity, democracy, freedom, order, the mandate of Civilisation, or the will of God. Not one has the honesty to confess: I kill to steal. No fewer than three million civilians died in the Congo during the four-year war that has been on hold since the end of 2002.