Stories and News No. 917
Last June, while Euro 2016 was beginning, another soccer tournament took place in Abkhazia. I refer to the World Cup for Rebels, championship for unrecognized nations.
Among them Kurdistan, stateless nation among the most topical today, fragmented in Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Armenia and Syria, with all the wars and civil conflicts with the participation of the rest of the world. The compact one, where the tanned, bearded and supposed enemy is always in plain view on top of pages and screens.
There were once stateless peoples.
You know?
Come on, I am talking about rebels, as I said at the very beginning.
However, you can call them in many other ways, because that is how they told you.
And once the story goes viral, you cannot easily change it.
Do you see them? They are the people who resist and young students who oppose, old men who stay behind but then they arrive too, civil society not only by words and women, a sea of women who had already started the fight.
Just to be clear, the stateless people most of the time they die for the State they have not. Dreaming the missing flag, they just disappear. For a land that now is just that, bare, barren and dried up as their own skin, they give everything.
Like life, past and present.
The future is a victory in the name of those who underlies the last page, the son of such a father.
The people without, in short.
However, when everything is said, ‘who claims what’ and ‘who denies it’, here come the others.
Secretly, whispering under desk at official dinners, but also boasting during the most shining parades.
They ever come, as it always has been and so will be.
Punctual heroes with normal super powers, the no season Santas and their precious gifts of death.
Only two choices on table: Take my arms, my dear new friend, or, whether you like it or not, I will use it in your behalf. Remember that for you and only for you I made it, thinking of you.
So the West’s dream becomes the East’s nightmare.
After narrow, formal shaking hands and hugs devoid of any emotion.
From that moment the war is no longer just a private matter.
Not their business anymore, so to speak.
Now, there was once the State without peoples.
Indeed, there were once the latter.
Come on, now it is easy.
I am talking about many, near you.
People formed by other people, made up of still other people, who are nothing but a bunch of lives confused with each other, like many bowed heads chatting on the crowded train of a subway at rush hour.
The question that follows is just as expected.
What happens when a State without people, in the sense of ignoring their opinions, decided to be part of the Stateless people’s war?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Silence, head down to the apps and let’s go to the next stop.
Zero, where over there all happens.
Where stateless people rise.
Against the States.
Without us...
Read more stories with morals
Buy my latest book Elisa and the wonderful world of objects
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
Last June, while Euro 2016 was beginning, another soccer tournament took place in Abkhazia. I refer to the World Cup for Rebels, championship for unrecognized nations.
Among them Kurdistan, stateless nation among the most topical today, fragmented in Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Armenia and Syria, with all the wars and civil conflicts with the participation of the rest of the world. The compact one, where the tanned, bearded and supposed enemy is always in plain view on top of pages and screens.
There were once stateless peoples.
Come on, I am talking about rebels, as I said at the very beginning.
However, you can call them in many other ways, because that is how they told you.
And once the story goes viral, you cannot easily change it.
Do you see them? They are the people who resist and young students who oppose, old men who stay behind but then they arrive too, civil society not only by words and women, a sea of women who had already started the fight.
Just to be clear, the stateless people most of the time they die for the State they have not. Dreaming the missing flag, they just disappear. For a land that now is just that, bare, barren and dried up as their own skin, they give everything.
Like life, past and present.
The future is a victory in the name of those who underlies the last page, the son of such a father.
The people without, in short.
However, when everything is said, ‘who claims what’ and ‘who denies it’, here come the others.
Secretly, whispering under desk at official dinners, but also boasting during the most shining parades.
They ever come, as it always has been and so will be.
Punctual heroes with normal super powers, the no season Santas and their precious gifts of death.
Only two choices on table: Take my arms, my dear new friend, or, whether you like it or not, I will use it in your behalf. Remember that for you and only for you I made it, thinking of you.
So the West’s dream becomes the East’s nightmare.
After narrow, formal shaking hands and hugs devoid of any emotion.
From that moment the war is no longer just a private matter.
Not their business anymore, so to speak.
Now, there was once the State without peoples.
Indeed, there were once the latter.
Come on, now it is easy.
I am talking about many, near you.
The question that follows is just as expected.
What happens when a State without people, in the sense of ignoring their opinions, decided to be part of the Stateless people’s war?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Silence, head down to the apps and let’s go to the next stop.
Zero, where over there all happens.
Where stateless people rise.
Against the States.
Without us...
Read more stories with morals
Buy my latest book Elisa and the wonderful world of objects
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles