NEW FACES OF POSTMODERN JUSTICE

With these last experiences lived throughout the world, in so many countries, it seems to me that we are living a story told me more than two thousands years ago; and I refer to what a crowd announces throughout the universe. Announcing that an innocent man died, humiliated, hurt, before the eyes of the world. Saying his last words, with the amount of pain that a man is capable to feel, while invoking the need to breathe, the need that someone like a mother, could come to his aid; but he died before the silent eyes of others who abandoned him to his misfortune, his silence and his destruction. 

I once heard once, that the "Voice of the People is the voice of God". A people thrown into the streets to speak about his death, of injustice sometimes silent, at times pronouncing his name, at times allowing others with different anger, to camouflage themselves among the multitude to hide their rage, their anger, their hidden hatreds.

It is impressive to see young people with their hands up, saying that they not agree with the inhuman death of others; young men a few steps from armed police officers, looking them in their eyes, speaking to them with the word that reasons, without insults, to remind them that they are also men, human beings like others. It would seem that the history of the new prophets is repeating itself on the faces of other men, who, illuminated by a great multitude, return to claim the fundamentals of life, respect, the value that unites and connects us with this humanity that we live.

But it is also impressive to hear and see how families and victims call for calm, to honor the name of their dead, not with the same violence, not with the same hatred or with same destruction to other poor victims of hate but their silence among the crowd.
It sis impressive to see the respect of those who lead others in order and justice, take off their hats to speak with delicacy and veneration about the hurt families.

It is impressive to see the armed men, on their knees before the helpless young men also kneeling, to demand justice. It would seem the confusion of feelings on both sides, or better the confusion of finally understanding that we are not two, nor three, not four different, but that we are one: the humanity, our humanity.

I am paralyzed before the silence of the leaders who do not know how to read the hearts of the people, confusing themselves with feelings of strength, fear, closeness, false feelings of compassion or solidarity,entering the path of ridicule and meaningless. Young people have shown the way, have come to allow postmodern man a sensitivity beyond the superfluos.

I was speechless, seeing a lonely young man offering respect to each of the police officers face to face, speaking to their eyes, while they hid their faces between their armored helmets and the gas masks. A simple young man dressed in red, sepaking with no hate, calmly with each of the police officers, with a facemask as his only protection against the danger of illness.

These seem to be the new faces of prophets of good that risking everything, would seem to be accompanied by a superior force. They are no longer scared, they are no longer afraid of losings, they already know that it is better to be strong and supportive, than hidden and solitary, waiting death as they cross their arms, watching the evil grow in their proximity.

It was good, that the message of this new humanity has touched our eyes, our reason, our hearts, our feelings; and why not, took us to a new way of believe, feel and exist.

" I CAN'T BREATHE" ( George Floyd)

Jesús Hernando Camacho Mosquera, june 1/2020. (Trad. R.P.R.)