Imagine your perfect world: does it have a police force? Thomas More’s imagined Utopia didn’t, ours certainly would not, and even your average police officer’s probably doesn’t. We have one because we don’t live in a perfect world, a world of equality – that much is clear. But what if the existence of police forces is exactly what’s blocking even our first tentative steps towards that world?
Why do we consider the capitalism as a root of all problems of our society? Only because of it`s trend to deepen the property stratification between the poor and the rich? Or, maybe, because of it`s basis in the exploitation of man by man? Or the main reason is its transformation in the final phase to imperialistic power that is enforced to search new and new markets in the new lands, basing the supply not on the demand, but on the informative influence? In all that is a part of the answer, but why do we not offer to reform this economical order for the primary conditions of the free competition?
For many years we’ve been continuously told that the middle class is a guaranty of stability. It’s a vast class of the owners, who save those with power and authority from any troubles beneath. Those who have tasted fresh orange juice on the beaches of Malta; who have sensed the smell of a leather upholstery of Toyota Camry, purchased in credit; who have heard a key creak opening the door of a new three-roomed apartment in a decent district, – they’d cut anyone’s throat if he’d tried to break their stability and serenity. Just sit quiet, study hard, pay your credits regularly. After graduation work in the office under the accompaniment of the air conditioning, become a boss of the apartment when you reach 30 – live like in a fairy tale.
Left liberals consider the 5th of December 2011 to be the day when the war on Putin’s kleptocracy was declared, when another dirty fraud, commonly known as “elections”, made “disgruntled townsfolk” out of those who usually stare at the computer screens chewing something in process. Nationalists call to memory, that a year before this event, thousands of football fans occupied Manezhnaya Square in Moscow and with their right hands, stretched from heart towards the sun, earnestly threatened the walls of Moscow Kremlin. Actually, the war was declared earlier, in the proper way – not by the exponentially beaten Caucasian teenagers, not by the hysterical threats to “cut the throats of these beasts”, but with shots. These shots sounded in June, 2011 in Primorsky taiga.
“If the whole nation breathes – there will be the wind”. The Russian saying.
The death of a human being is a tragedy, for it is irreversible. The death of a town, a city or a village doesn’t seem to be so irreversible at the first sight. However, if we try to think about a huge amount of the human work, once put in these wasted streets, houses and yards, think about the emotions – whether it’s joy or sorrow – forever sealed in them. Those walls became witnesses of the ordinary yet meaningful for everyone’s life moments: the first word ever said to someone, the first letter written on the school blackboard, the first kiss right here on this crossroad… Just think how many long-awaited letters lay in these rusted postboxes, what warm fragrant bread was made in this former bakery, how delicious a jet of water from the tank tasted… For someone it was a small motherland, for others – just a statistics report. Settlement so-and-so, residents’ number – 0, resettled due to…