After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the precipitous collapse of the USSR, a climate of unbridled triumphalism arose in the West, which even went so far as to proclaim urbi et orbi the end of history. For we felt that we were the undisputed masters of the universe, that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world conformed to our democratic system, adopted our laws, embraced our liberties with delight.
We were wrong. As much as in those years – the eighties and nineties – the achievements of the neoliberal policies put in place by Reagan and Thatcher dazzled locals and strangers, there were those who perceived that there was nothing more than a thick smokescreen devised in order to cover the stealthy but rapid advance of inequality that would return us to the hardships of the 19th century, as we are now seeing.
The first wake-up call was 9/11, a full-blown attack on the very heart of capitalism perpetrated by a bunch of Islamist fanatics. From then on, nothing would be the same, as we remember every time we are searched at any airport in the world. Suddenly we knew ourselves vulnerable. And then there was the financial crash of 2008 in the West, while the Chinese economy was going like a motorcycle. It was hard for us to assume that we were no longer the undisputed masters of the universe or that we were already deep in debt. Still, the coronavirus and the invasion of Ukraine have caught us off guard, confused, dissatisfied, angry, scared.
The shouting has put an end to any hint of understanding or elementary courtesy. The confusion that exists between the verbs to hear and to listen defines this climate of bitter polarization. Neither heard nor heard. But to hate one hates an egg. Meanwhile, everything indicates that, from now on, whoever wins the elections, we are going to face tougher times similar to those of the harsh post-war period in Spain.
You don’t have to be a lynx to see that blackouts, water cuts, indefinite strikes and cyberattacks are coming everywhere. And who knows if the bombs that fall on Ukraine will end up crushing our streets. Collapse. Paralysis. Chaos. It is no longer just a class war, between rich and poor, left and right, but could even lead to a head-on collision between men and women, young and old, landlords and squatters.
Without realizing it, we are living, with all the exceptions you want, our own postwar period. Well not all, but a good part yes. The pillars of democracy are shaken: ballot boxes, health, education, justice, consensus. Politics is a joke that has long ceased to be funny. Lazarillo de Tormes has become a self-help book, a survival guide. They return -and how!- the sisa in the shops, the black market, the pig in a poke.
A supermarket is today a metaphor -or metaverse- of our disastrous present. Prices do not stop rising, because of inflation. There are more and more holes on the shelves; some are already empty. Thefts are the daily bread. The scales, again tricked. France offers citizens a basket of basic products at a reduced price. Eroski takes note. Brussels announces that in 2024 we will have to tighten our belts.
But as if all this were not enough, adding to our misfortunes when stepping on a supermarket is reduflation, which consists of companies, without prior notice, reducing the amount of product they offer packaged in the usual attractive package, which is which allows them to sell it, blatantly cheating the buyer, at the same price.
In the early post-war years there was a man in Palamós who went through the streets with a cart selling “coffee”. When asked why he didn’t call the steaming liquid that he shouted out coffee… coffee! Coffee!…, he replied that the coffee contained little or nothing, since it was pure chicory. If we have not yet returned to those times, we are close.
