If Putin issued a decree for all Russians to throw themselves into the lava, many of them would exclaim: ‘Oh my God, but where do we find her? Our wise leader, we have no lava in our garden!’ It is that our population is divided into two: those who support Putin, and then all those who know how to read, write and reach logical conclusions”. The corrosive monologue, which also launches ironies against Christian figures, is celebrated by dozens of people in a St. Petersburg pub, but then the young comedian Alexander Dolgopolov upload it to Youtube and his satirical performance begins to be followed by two and a half million Internet users. The thing goes from dark brown. Already from power they had discreetly reminded him of the very punitive laws in force against the different forms of “sacrilege”, and they had also quietly suggested that he not make any more jokes about the Tsar; now gaunt plainclothes officers suddenly start asking about him in his neighborhood and at his work. Given some ominous antecedents that occurred under that police regime, Dolgopolov decides to emigrate from Russia fearing for his physical freedom and above all for his health: Moscow’s official comedian, who really holds the monopoly on laughter – you have to understand – is Moscow himself Vladimir Putin. It is this new leader of argento progressivism, a lover of pluralism and major commander of an intelligence service that continuously carries out internal espionage and that from time to time even charges some enemy or dissident with poisoned candies, it is this steppe Perón from the golden corridors of the Kremlin who also defines the gender of people, even the proclaimed LGBTQ rights: “They are socio-cultural disturbances of the West – says Putin –. Teaching that a boy can become a girl and vice versa is monstrous, and verging on a crime against humanity.” It also dedicates some nice feminist jokes, which I have no doubt the “green handkerchiefs” of Christianity will know how to value: “What does a young woman need to maintain her figure? Putin wonders in an act. Just three things: an exercise machine, a masseur and a suitor”. He calls to defend the “faith and ethnicity” of the people, as a good religious nationalist, and for the “beautiful souls” and the former outdated leftists – for example, the idolaters of XXI Century Socialism, of the Homeland Institute and of Palermo Lenin– pours out his favorite aphorism: “Whoever does not regret the death of the Soviet Union has no heart; whoever wants to restore it has no brain.” Does Kirchnerism admire any of these ideas? No, tovarich, he hardly feels envy for his anti-American belligerence, his mafia capitalism, his apocryphal democracy with a hegemonic bias and the possibility that the supreme leader orders bathing in lava and the docile people obey him without asking questions.
In one of the most tragic moments of Humanity, the Peronist leaders did not choose to confront Hitler or Mussollini, they gave refuge to their bloodiest hierarchs and asked Francisco Franco for tender exile
Nor is Kirchnerism fascinated by the theocratic regime in Iran, which stones women and persecutes homosexuals and executes “infidels” and opponents. Only that the Iranians are part of the Bolivarian entente, and that is why we give them a Memorandum of Understanding or turn a deaf ear to the extreme situation of Narges Mohammadi, a human rights activist who for the mere crime of protesting has just been subjected in Tehran to a “five minute” trial and sentenced to eight years in prison and 70 lashes. very progressive all. One could narrate in passing countless similar or worse atrocities, and morbidly add those operated by the regime that reigns with an iron fist in the People’s Republic of China, but there is no pulse or space for so much deployment. Suffice it to say that, despite the flagrant and quiet inconsistencies, Kirchnerism sympathizes with those authoritarian, ultra-nationalist and illiberal systems, just as in the early 1940s Justicialism sympathized with the three Axis fascisms. In one of the most tragic moments of Humanity, the Peronist leaders chose not to confront Hitler is a Mussolini; then they dedicated themselves to giving refuge to their bloodiest hierarchs and, finally, to asking tender exile from Francisco Franco. While the new leaders emerging from the Latin American left are beginning to be somewhat reluctant to submit to the “bear hug” of the dictators of Caracas, Managua and Havana, our monarch of Juncal street is still loyal to those same grotesque, although if they asked her what her model of country is, she would probably not mention any of them; nor to the Russian, Chinese or Iranian systems. It would not even allude to any of the different seasons of the changing Peronist past. The international model of Kirchnerism is Santa Cruz, and everything that this format managed to replicate in our nation during the glorious “decade won.” La Pasionaria del Calafate, protagonist of this unique experience, feels that she has much to teach the parsleys of Latin America and the world, and that is why she gives her “master classes” as soon as she participates in a friendly forum. The last one, however, did not show her at her best. Compared even with herself in those logorheic national networks, this version showed a kind of creative exhaustion, a certain intellectual precariousness. His obsession with “neoliberalism” –a misused term used to encompass competitive capitalism and republican democracy– reveals his feudal conception and his village statism, and comes to wash over and over again his great sin of origin: that long and fervent militancy in the Washington consensus; first with Menem, who even pardoned the pardon, and then with Horse, the father of the child and at the time the great political partner of the Kirchners. Twelve unforgettable years, already beating drum. How much rhetorical bleach does it take to clean that stain? Perhaps as much as is needed to erase his long and absolute indifference to the crimes against humanity of the dictatorship of He saw. Otherwise, his criticisms of the OAS, chaired by a man of true progressivism (Louis Almagro), are explained simply because that organization has denounced the murders and tortures perpetrated by the regional accomplices of the Egyptian architect. Their complaints against the judges (as new coup plotters) are for reason, it is already known, that many of them have dared to prove in court how Kirchnerism repeatedly stole from their people. The idea that drug trafficking grows when the state shrinks seems like a disconcerting self-criticism, since this infamous business reached its peak precisely under its last administrations. The “present State” was absent in the most humble sectors, where today the priests of drug dealing rule: they recruit children, grant slave credits, apply “justice” and even build community works. Those who govern our decline for so long are not the officials of the White House, nor the bureaucrats of the Bottom nor the speculators of Wall Street, but the eternal political and union bosses of the PJ –the others pass, they remain–, and those who placed us on the current podium of the three most inflationary countries on the planet –behind only Venezuela and Lebanon– have not been the “powers concentrated” but the disconcerted powers of an outdated model. That is the truth of the Milanese.