The rugbiers and the murderous far-right terrorist

Reality is more complex than the papers that explain it. The assassination of Fernando Báez Sosa was excessively brutal. We know. The forensic report revealed “multiple head injuries, congested lungs, hemothorax, liver laceration, multiple abrasions and ecchymosis in the maxillary region and trauma to the right side of the jaw.” Fernando was the victim of savage, naked, obscene violence. That irrational hatred that idolizes violence and its coercive pleasures, and that manifests itself in the need to satisfy an obsessive stimulus of pleasure.

Fernando needed justice. We also know. It is time to ask what kind of justice. Once the convicted have been arrested, imprisoned, tried and sentenced, where does our understanding of the other end? How far are the physical or imaginary borders that our compassion for our neighbor crosses?

“This is just beginning, we want life for everyone,” said Fernando Báez’s father. He gets it. A son murdered in this way puts you at all the barricades. But it is the ghost of violence and fear that one day will wake up at dawn to warn you that the abyss begins at the foot of your bed. That inoculated poison of false security that feeds the laws of the herd. Before they threatened us with hell, now hell is taught from some television “sets” in favor of a tougher penal code. That informative ease so promiscuous with this world shot by fake news, so courteous with militant extremism, with the immediacy of the fleeting, of the irrelevant.

Fernando was not killed by rugby, but rugby was there. That sport with the stereotype profile of a “money class” bully that has been negatively entrenched in the image of society for some time. A universe where ethical forms, solidarity and citizenship are sometimes weakened; where reflection, moderation and rationality disappear. It is then when the essence of sport is orphaned. “This was an accident, fights like this are seen every day,” declared Bernardo Dirges, one of the trainers of Náutico Arsenal Zárate Rugby. That deliberate orphanhood of fait accompli, of complicit, uninhabited silences.

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There are some aesthetic experiences that transport you to abstract worlds where everything flows and becomes incomprehensible. In this brief crack of light where we exist, Fernando is no longer with us. On the other side of the tragedy, five rugbiers, thugs, immoral, will not be with us either. They are souls that have already left life. They will spend 35 years in jail. Another form of absurd, obscene, irrational violence. Institutional violence so light on skin and bones, often built with the help of the most effective and varied tools of authoritarian society. Those uninhabited places, where human time does not exist.

The examples crack where they hurt the most. Europe’s most notorious terrorist, Anders Breivik, was sentenced to 21 years in prison in 2012. The Norwegian far-right murdered 77 people, including 69 young Social Democrats, in the notorious massacre on the island of Utoya. If his sentence is not reviewed in 2033, he could achieve freedom.

In these twilight moments of the human one remembers Machado: “Your truth, no. The truth, and come with me to look for it”. It is not so much the fear of the future, but the fear of the inability to think of futures that are better than the present that we have.

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