There are catchphrases that always come back. They are catchy. They settle naturally in the story of our emotions. And we all repeat them, in unison. “This is not the time to talk about politics“is one of them. It is often said when a tragedy breaks us and it has resonated a lot on television in shock in the face of the DANA catastrophe.
The expression is partly right, because these are not the days for the politics that we have naturalized and that is not the essence of politics. That politics that we see in media theatrics and seems capable of creating slogans even with pain. Thus arises a dangerous social disaffection that shakes our welfare state. For this very reason, it is a lie that now is not the time for politics. Because everything is politics. Because politics affects us in every step we take. The problem is if we confuse politics with the arrogant clash of proclamations. Then, something punctures. Then, the seams of the propagandistic arguments are exposed at the very moment that we have to manage, coordinate and recognize what has gone wrong in order to provide solutions.
Each of our acts is politics. Or the fruit of politics. From politics grows individualism, from politics takes root the social congregation that knows when time cannot wait. Politics are the security forces displaced and working without respite. Politics is the anonymous person who takes the microphone away from a reporter because she needs to be heard. A situation that has been repeated too many times in the special programs of all the televisions: the national networks have broadcast the desperation in the foreground. How people do not wait to ask for permission as they would have done seven days ago. Now life has remarked what is a priority, what is truly urgent and what is accessory.
The protagonist image of this Friday, All Saints’ Day, has been that of a flood of people who do not know each other but who have come together so that the consequences of the DANA do not leave us even more paralyzed. The crowd crossing the bridge with shovels, brooms and bags of food to places that the torrent destroyed. Walking, so as not to hinder the traffic of the emergency services. Walking, to try to do something. They simply want to lend a hand, however they can. A hand of help and, also, of company. Companionship, what an essential word at the moment when one feels hopelessly immersed in helplessness.
Society once again has not failed. Society grouping together, setting out on its own, reminds us that we are human chains. Together we can, alone it is impossible. We need each other. And we also need politics that makes its management more visible than theatricalizing its quarrel. Politics that treats us as citizens, not that pretends to seduce us as mere consumers. The future of our present and our future depends on politics. The one that appears on TV and the one that does not. The one that tweets as a supporter and the one that does not. The one that asks questions so as not to make the same mistakes and the one that does not. Every act that moves our lives is political. Even when we believe we are apolitical.
