The Tarpeia Rock is near the Capitol. It was so clear to them in ancient Rome that glory is ephemeral and that the ruler must always keep in mind that the scaffold is near. In Republican Rome, just a few hundred meters from the seat.
The elections of 28-M have passed and the popular victory has been resounding. But, before throwing down the losers, it would be good to remember that it is misleading to consider the mayoral elections as a first round of the general elections. In a municipal election, the candidate matters more than the party, even more than their ideology. On the upside, the only irrefutable thing after last Sunday is that the messianic verbiage of the new policy and the process have definitely been left behind. I’m glad!
And it seems quite obvious that, as Machiavelli warned centuries ago, the entrenchment of leadership is typical of long periods of tranquility. As has been demonstrated in Barcelona, ​​when societies are lucky enough to live in peaceful times, we can afford the luxury that our great dramas have to do with whether the tram should reach Verdaguer or Passeig de Grà cia; whether there are few or many pickpockets and bins on the streets.
That the discussions in the campaign have been more rhetorical than real is confirmed, in addition to the significant abstention, that, whoever the new mayor is, no one will reverse the traffic calming measures that have been initiated, nor to delete the extension of the bike lane or, as Don Quixote celebrated, to encourage Barcelona to be a free city for truans and batuses.
In the strictly Barcelona case, I have the impression that the campaign has certified that Ada Colau would have been a better candidate than mayor. Converted into a Superwoman of noble causes, for the unsuspecting voter it was always clear from her speeches that everything started with her: from investments in neighborhoods to housing policies. And, above all, that only she had known how to make the rich pass through the addressee, ignoring the small detail that owed her re-election to Manuel Valls.
After so many years marked by the culture of no to projects that would have made Barcelona a better city, I celebrate that a new political cycle can finally be opened, more business friendly and tolerant of those who do not think like you or who simply reside in the upper Diagonal.
I found Ernest Maragall more empathetic, with whom I had the good fortune to talk at Kreab and at the College of Engineers. Despite my prejudice with his age, Maragall exhibited thorough knowledge of the city and its challenges. He credited “having an office”. It has been of little use to him, since, as all the polls indicated from day one, his time had passed and the immorality of blocking his way four years ago soon became clear that it was irreparable.
A very different case has been that of Xavier Trias and his surprising victory. Trias is a gentleman from Barcelona, ​​sensible and gentlemanly, the father-in-law we would all like to have. Only he has been able to capitalize on the tedium with Colau’s so ideological and paternalistic leadership. Because of the affection I have for him and because of the friendship that unites me with some of his councilors, I only wish that if he gets the mayoral stick he can be himself and deploy the program without interference from the most extreme sector of his party, which, until very recently, is precisely what the Meridiana cut.
As for Jaume Collboni, who by age and experience has become the best positioned to be mayor, in the end he won ten councilors, but fell short. Its tightrope walk combining in unison its role as government and as an alternative is likely to have generated some confusion, incomprehensible to those desirous of change. In the coming days we will see his ability to rebuild bridges with the left or his availability to revive the socio-vergence, so typical of the metropolitan oasis.
Whatever happens in Barcelona, ​​given the blue tide that has prevailed everywhere, Pedro Sánchez has only been able to call elections for July 23. Maybe he knows that Arx Tarpeia is waiting for him. Even so, if I were Núñez Feijóo, I wouldn’t get too far into the ravine either. Just in case, as is often the case, a man votes for his people and with his heart for the generals.
