“Alone and bound. Bound because everything depended on him. He felt almost physically the ties that connected him to all forms of life in the vast country… Wherever he moved, the center of the web he was in moved with him. Like spiders in a web. If he left the house, the country followed him. In the steps and faces of those who followed him—aides, family, friends, servants, opportunists, curious onlookers—and in the echo, the reflection, the residue, the trace of those who were far from his sight, in the cities and in the fields, but still connected to him, stuck to him by suction cups, by threads, by hopes and projects, by fears and plans… It was his will, without needing to be expressed, that moved men and things in the furthest corners… What had to be requested had to be asked of him, because no decision could come from anywhere else… There was no one to lean on. He was all alone surrounded by the entire country… “The only true prisoner is me.”
It’s tough. Very tough. Conceivable but unacceptable. In moments spent alone, facing the mirror after all these years, he hears the internal voice, stronger and clearer than ever, announcing solitude. The most absolute. Announcing that he can trust no one; that all those close to him would not hesitate to betray him to save themselves. Knowing firsthand the effort made. Knowing that all his henchmen are something, and have accumulated much, due to their position and complicity.
There is no turning back. The only option is to flee, forward. Always forward. Those who have become the persecutors are millions, and they are growing. Those who support him have received millions, and they are becoming fewer. The variant of “homeland, socialism or death” is clearly known, and is “state, democracy and prison,” which is death said another way. The uncertain place where death awaits is, hence, anticipated everywhere. It is seen in every place. And thus, “the only true prisoner” consumed in the labyrinth where the Minotaur lurks omnipresent, is dwindling. And in the act of diminishing, he reduces the country, reduces everyone who depends on him. And in the process of reduction, in a state of solipsism, of absolute paranoia, hope is found only in radicalization. In the “they shall not pass.”
The triumph of democracy is the failure of the revolutionary project. The failure will tarnish its place in history. Failure is worse than death. Therefore failure is not an option. Before failure or democracy: homeland, socialism or death.