Ana García y Javier Arjona: Premio Príncipe de Asturias a la Ingrid Betancur, cuestión de clase

Vale la pena inquietarse sobre el por qué del destino de un premio como “el principe de Asturias” a Ingrid Betancur.

Por qué a ella y no al profesor Moncayo, por ejemplo. Que ha recorrido caminos, carreteras, cancillerías, buscando la liberación de su hijo, prisionero de guerra en la montaña, pero también proponiendo medidas para conseguir la paz en Colombia..

Porqué a Ingrid y no al abogado Camilo Umaña, por poner un ejemplo, cuyo padre Eduardo Umaña, de los más prestigiosos defensores de derechos humanos, fue asesinado hace 10 años, y el estado colombiano ha “inmunizado” y decretado Impunidad para este crimen.

Por qué a la señora Betancur, y no a Ivan Cepeda, por decir otro ejemplo, cuyo padre, el senador Cepeda, es uno de los cuatro mil asesinados de la Unión Patriótica, genocidio político reconocido, pero que permanece en el presente porque a los poquitos sobrevivientes de aquella esperanza electoral se los van asesinando cada día, sin compasión ni descanso de la estructura mafiosa y paramilitar del establecimiento colombiano.

Por qué a ella y no a cualquier familia de los siete mil presos políticos que se pudren en las cárceles colombianas, muchos de ellos por ejercer su labor sindical, o agraria, o estudiantil, o simplemente por opinar sobre la injusticia del país, mantenida a sangre y fuego de una violencia de más de 50 años.

En efecto el premio que se concede en territorio asturiano tiene mucho contenido de clase. Y ahí están para ejemplo los que se dan a ricachones este año y otros. Los empresarios de microsof, los de google, y tantos más, aunque de vez en vez, como excepción, “se pueda poner un pobre a su mesa” como en la mejor época franquista.

No nos referimos solo al traje impecable, y a los lujos manifiestos, que han salido a relucir en Le Figaró: nos referimos a hechos más profundos: Cómo contribuir a la Paz, de verdad, en Colombia.

Cómo procurar reparación integral, memoria y verdad, buscando la Justicia para 140.000 asesinados por el estado colombiano, según los datos de la ambigua OEA.

La opción no es por los trajes caros, que cuadran bien a los obcenos beneficios de las multinacionales en medio de la guerra que desangra a Colombia. La opción debiera ser por el Diálogo, la Justicia, La Paz, y para ello ningún guiño a los guerreristas es sostenible.

http://www.rebelion.org/noticia.php?id=72496

Robert Cohen: In the Seventh Year

Foto: David W. Dunlap/ NY Times

And in the seventh year after the fall, the dust and debris of the towers cleared. And it became plain at last what had been wrought.

For the wreckage begat greed; and it came to pass that while America’s young men and women fought, other Americans enriched themselves. Beguiling the innocent, they did backdate options, and they did package toxic mortgage securities and they did reprice risk on the basis that it no more existed than famine in a fertile land.

Thereby did the masters of the universe prosper, with gold, with silver shekels, with land rich in cattle and fowl, with illegal manservants and maids, with jewels and silk, and with Gulfstream V business jets; yet the whole land did not prosper with them. And it came to pass, when the housing bubble burst, that Main Street had to pay for the Wall Street party.

For Bush ruled over the whole nation and so sure was he of his righteousness that he did neglect husbandry.

And he took his nation into desert wars and mountain wars, but, lo, he thought not to impose taxation, not one heifer nor sheep nor ox did Bush demand of the rich. And it came to pass that the nation fell into debt as boundless as the wickedness of Sodom. For everyone, Lehman not least, was maxed out.

So heavy was the burden of war, and of bailing out Fannie and Freddie, and of financing debt with China, that not one silver shekel remained to build bridges, nor airports, nor high-speed trains, nor even to take care of wounded vets; and the warriors returning unto their homes from distant combat thought a blight had fallen on the land.

So it was in the seventh year after the fall of the towers. And still Bush did raise his hands to the Lord and proclaim: “I will be proved right in the end!”

And around the whole earth, which had stood with America, there arose a great trouble, for it seemed to peoples abroad that a great nation, rich in flocks and herds and land and water, had been cast among thorns and Philistines; its promise betrayed, its light dimmed, its armies stretched, its budget broken, its principles compromised, its dollar diminished.

And it came to pass that this profligate nation, drinking oil with insatiable thirst, could not cure itself of this addiction, and so its wealth was transferred to other nations that did not always wish it well.

Wherefore the balance of power in the world was altered in grievous ways, and new centers of authority arose, and they were no more persuaded by democracy than was the Pharaoh.

For Bush ruled over the whole nation, and so sure was he of his righteousness that he did neglect the costs of wanton consumption. And he believed that if the Lord created fossil fuel, fossil fuel must flow without end, as surely as the grape will yield wine.

Therefore, in the seventh year after the fall, with 1,126 of the slain still unidentified, their very beings rendered unto dust, their souls inhabiting the air of New York, it seemed that one nation had become two; and loss, far from unifying the people, had sundered the nation.

For the rich, granted tax breaks more generous than any blessing, grew richer, and incomes in the middle ceased to rise, and workers saw jobs leaving the land for that region called Asia. And some fought wars while others shopped; and some got foreclosed while others got clothes. And still Bush spake but few listened.

Behold, so it was in the seventh year, and it seemed that America was doubly smitten, from without and within.

And, lo, a strange thing did come to pass. For as surely as the seasons do alternate, so the ruler and party that have brought woe to a nation must give way to others who can lead their people to plenty. How can the weary, flogged ass bear honey and balm and almonds and myrrh?

Yet many Americans believed the exhausted beast could still provide bounty. They did hold that a people called the French was to blame. They did accuse a creation called the United Nations. They did curse the ungodly sophisticates of Gotham and Hollywood and sinful Chicago; and, lo, they proclaimed God was on their side, and carried a gun, and Darwin was bunk, and truth resided in Alaska.

For Bush ruled over the whole nation and so sure was he of his righteousness that he did foster division until it raged like a plague. Each tribe sent pestilence on the other.

And in the seventh year after the fall, the dust and debris of the towers cleared. And it became plain at last what had been wrought — but not how the damage would be undone

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/11/opinion/11Cohen.html?ref=opinion