The
chilling case of the silver prosecutor
Once
upon a time in a vast and empty country the people celebrated the
death of the dictator who had kept them poor and ignorant for 39 long
years and who had murdered many thousands of their fathers and
brothers and sisters during and after the bloody struggle that had
brought him to power. With the dictator gone, the people could
finally have the democracy their much wealthier neighbouring
countries had been enjoying for a good few decades. But there was a
tiny problem. The late dictator’s many friends and aides and other
people who had profited from the steep inequalities that
dictatorships often bring, not to forget those who in their younger
years had personally helped murder and betray their fellow countrymen
- all these people who were accomplices in the great crime against
the public, in exchange for handing over power to democratically
elected institutions they now demanded their sins would be forgotten.
As they saw no other way to obtain their long-desired democracy the
people reluctantly accepted, and so the law was decreed that never,
ever any person were allowed to ask difficult questions about the
past. The past did not exist in this vast and empty country where the
sun shone most of the days.
Prosperity
came to the land and the poor masses started to enjoy a reasonable
standard of living. Even when an old collaborator of the dictator
founded a political party and this party for mind boggling reasons
was elected to power, democracy was not immediately annihilated. It
was merely insulted and hindered and after eight long years things
went back to normal again. The country by now had become a fun place
to live in and its people one of the happiest on the continent. But
there still was the unresolved problem of the untold past. The
generation which had lost so many loved ones in their youth was
getting old now, and it did not want to leave this world without at
least having searched the truth about their fathers and brothers and
sisters who would never return. Where were they buried, how were they
killed and what were the names of their assassins? With the last
witnesses to the great crime on the threshold of afterlife, all these
forbidden questions suddenly needed to be asked.
The
people got help from a public prosecutor, a famous man with a lot of
silver hair and slightly overweight who felt that after thirty years
the ban on questions should be lifted because an honest people could
only live democratically once they had fully understood and redeemed
their past errors. The heritage party, the party which was founded by
the dictator’s old friend and whose members held many important
positions throughout society, vehemently opposed the idea. Through
their friends inside the judicial system they did everything in their
powers to obstruct the prosecutor’s work. The friends, eager to
show their loyalty, started legal proceedings against the silver one
for forbidden inquiries into the non-existing past and this meant his
work came all but to a halt.
The
silver prosecutor, not a man to be easily discouraged, at the same
time began investigating the workings of the heritage party, hoping
to learn more about how their many high placed members operated to
keep democracy from functioning properly. And then, what luck, the
prosecutor hit upon a secret scheme of redistributing taxpayers’
money to party members through the age old trick of overpricing
government projects. In this particular case, a management bureau
which helped stage public events had developed the habit of showering
its dear heritage friends with costly presents, varying from
tailor-made suits and handbags to holidays and fists full of money.
Nothing particularly big, but definitely widespread and all too
common. The silver prosecutor saw a golden chance to get even while
at the same time serving up his countrymen some truth of the matter.
The
prosecutor concentrated his efforts on the governor of an utterly
corrupted coastal region, a man extraordinarily popular with all the
good civilians who had happily profited from the ruthless
exploitation of nature reserves and coastlines allowed under his
watch. The silver prosecutor asked the judges of the court from where
he was prosecuting if he were allowed to record telephone calls and
other conversations the suspect and his circle had. At least one
judge accepted the prosecutor’s plea for information gathering, and
so it didn’t take long before the amazingly popular governor and
his closest collaborators were brought before court, treating the
public of the vast and empty country to an ample collection of
scandalous and self-incriminating dialogues between best friends
sympathising with each other’s need for luxury and excess. The
improbably popular governor would soon be sentenced and a large
section of his utterly corrupted entourage would fall down with him,
the general feeling was. But this sentiment didn’t count with the
popular jury appointed to have the final word. When the month long
soap opera of all the governor’s close friends’ confessions came
to a conclusion, the jury happily announced it had not been able to
find any evidence of the facts the whole country had heard pronounce
on their radios and TV-sets.
The
improperly popular governor came free, his career stalled for the
moment, but offering party members the opportunity to hail the honest
judicial proceedings and as a result the providential innocence of
not just their dear friend from the coast but of the heritage
movement as a whole. The message read loud and clear to all
knowledgeable ears: nobody dare mess with the heritage party and its
majority approved intent to sweep the country back into a good old
day feeling, chosen to distract the people from the end game
realities which were saturating the economy and general history. The
Matrix thought we might like the eighties, but in the vast and empty
country the nineteen fifties were proposed as everybody’s favourite
nightmare.
And
then the lawyers of the absolved politicians claimed the silver
prosecutor had deliberately violated their professional discretion
with his recordings and that he needed to be expelled from office for
life; and the judges did not even bother to rewrite a few lines when
they accepted this wild and unfounded accusation and sent off the
silver justice fighter with the requested ban. To add insult to
injury, they then laid down the case of the forbidden inquiries into
non-existing war crimes. With the silver one out of office, they
could easily pretend to be as honourable as the law supposed them to
be. A distasteful joke after a disgrace of a process.
With
the prosecutor gone and the perpetrators celebrating their unlawful
impunity, one question remains. Home much of this was planned and in
how far did an honest (though not less devastating)
self-righteousness weigh into the decision? Como Dios manda, the
newly elected president had answered when asked how he would govern.
The chilling lack of reason in that statement is indeed sweeping the
country at the moment. Everywhere the ruling class are picking up old
practices again, pressured by tightening circumstances no less, but
with an insulting speed and profoundness as if the long stretch of
democrat improvements has to be fully erased from the public’s
mind. We are straight back into the mythical heartland of old where
life went according to plan, however irresponsible the plan may be.
Every person clad with authority these days seems to hail their
powers of judgement from God, not from reason or established
practice. Como mande dios. The results are not exactly encouraging.
Back
to the fifties it is indeed, or way further if need be, with the
economy being destroyed by ongoing bank bailouts and inflated debts
for the public, and the strong arm of the law disturbingly
well-prepared for detaining any kind of uprising, from early signs in
individuals to large and bullish congregations. The country which had
happily lived through 35 years of steady improvement with new roles
for men and women and a pleasant equality in everyday life, all
things enjoyed and cherished by the vast majority, now is brutally
subjected to the old arbitrary rule. It’s horrifying to witness how
fast such sea changes can take place.
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