Under the crossfire between the two (three, infinite) Spains, a little sentimental sugar is not going to harm us. It always seems that the polarization cannot be more extreme, but the flames of tremendousism are always higher, and the fire more alive. That is why I believe that we are not in a position to despise the syrup, no matter how much sugar it contains. It is true that it does not contain political vitamin, but at least it sweetens the poor hope, so mistreated. I am referring to the syrup that Begoña Villacís, until now deputy mayor for Citizens of the Madrid City Council, distributed in his farewell speech.
As you know, Villacís repeatedly praised his rivals. In a sugary ironic tone, he said that he would dedicate the speech to publicizing the shame of his fellow legislatures. These shames turned out to be virtues. He knew how to show positive qualities to all his rivals and adversaries. He revealed that one of them was appreciated by all the councillors, that another was outstanding, that a third was so passionate about things in the city that he could never disconnect. He congratulated a socialist for her campaign. Of a parliamentarian from the mixed group, he stated that she “always told the truth.” He confessed that, at the saddest moment of his political journey, consolation came from an adversary. Villacís kissed all his rivals. In the land of hydrochloric acid, a little rose perfume cannot be harmful.
Throw little flowers, we say in Catalan. compliment. I thought of an ad from years ago, for Coca-Cola. I liked it, although it was very syrupy. The protagonist was a child, the son of parents who are always at odds. The mother asks the child to recriminate such a thing to her father. And the child, instead of recriminations, expresses nice words to the father, on behalf of the mother. On another occasion, things go the other way and, instead of transmitting an aggressive message, the child conveys a loving phrase.
The three end up kissing and drinking Coca-Cola. Yeah, it was a cheesy ad. Ideal to motivate all these fashionable mockers, who practice a humor that seems to be engendered in stomach ulcer acid. But, when the bad moon, sarcasm, insults, swagger and exaggeration place our politics on the rhetorical threshold of civil war, it is appreciated that a public affairs professional has the idea of ??”criticizing” her colleagues. profession appealing to its virtues and leaving, for a moment, its defects.
Villacís ended the speech with a description of relations between parties. “Politicians – he said – speak better behind their backs than face-to-face.” Certainly, face to face they pull their hair rhetorically, when they don’t stab each other. However, often in a clandestine way, they are able to braid friendships. Why should that friendship be lived as a shame if what is truly shameful, in addition to being toxic and enervating, is that incessant, hydrochloric, poisonous hatred that is manufactured in public?
An example, to finish. After years of toxicity and confrontations, in Valencia a satisfactory and plausible solution began to be woven already in Zaplana’s time for the various sensitivities around the native language of Valencians, the same language spoken by Catalan and Balearic. That subtle, delicate and laborious fabric took a long time to complete. I know that it was possible thanks to a network of positive personal relationships. Will politics now return to set fire to what cost so much to weave?
