The Gospel accounts of Holy Week can be interpreted regardless of their religious meaning. They can be read, for example, in a political key. Indeed, many of the episodes of the Passion help to understand the volatile relationships between the masses, ideology, and power. The first and best known of the political messages of Holy Week reminds us of the cruel fragility of leadership. Jesus enters Jerusalem to celebrate Easter to the applause and gestures of affection of a crowd that acclaims him. “Hosanna!” they yell at him. That is to say: “Help us, save us!â€. It is curious that, two thousand years later, in modern democracies, the masses continue to cheer their leaders with updated synonyms for the ancient word hosanna. When it is stated that there is a lack of charismatic leaders, we are claiming this type of exceptional characters. The glorification of Yolanda DÃaz follows this pattern.
The mass awaits a leader who miraculously solves the problems of society; and that it does so without cost to the population. But the problems of a country are tremendously complex and ramified. Often the most a ruler can do is soften or contain the greater evil. However, the leader and the masses have accepted this pact: “Give me your votes and I will transform reality.” But the reality is harsh. Relentless. Sooner rather than later, the leader’s helplessness becomes apparent. And then comes, oceanic, disappointment. The higher the expectations, the more sour the disappointment. The applause turns into whistles. Love turns to hate. The liturgy of Holy Week links, with a few days apart, the applause of the hosanna with the cry of the mass before the doubts of the governor Pontius Pilate: “Crucify him!”.
The comparisons are hateful; We have said that we are doing a strictly political reading of the evangelical accounts of these days. Speaking of the mood swings of the masses, it is inevitable to evoke the sparkling leadership of Laura Borrà s. A few months ago, she was idolized by the most fervently pro-independence crowd; Now only her relatives accompany her. She descends very alone down the slide of a harsh prison sentence (I say harsh because it has been proven that, despite the fact that she broke the regulations, she did not pocket a single euro). Those who incensed her are now hiding from her.
In another Gospel scene, Peter hears the rooster crow and understands that he has already denied three times that he was part of Jesus’ group. Exactly one year ago, something similar happened, although much more cynical, with Pablo Casado, the leader of the PP. From one day to the next, all of his management colleagues, starting with the spokeswoman Cuca Gamarra, went over to the other side. “We are with you!†they told him when the internal hostilities began. A couple of days later, not only were they hiding like Pedro, but they betrayed him Judas-style, who gave away his partner with a kiss. The enemy does not always come from outside. The cruelest is at home.
