3 Postscripts 3. I.-GLOBALIZED PS. One planet, many wars

Jul022025

3 Postscripts 3. I.-GLOBALIZED PS. One planet, many wars

3 Postscripts 3.

I.-GLOBALIZED PS.
One planet, many wars.

Note: This year marks the 20th anniversary of the Sixth Declaration and the 5th anniversary of the Declaration for Life. With the Sixth Declaration, we clearly signaled our anti-capitalist position and our critical distance from institutional politics. With the commitment of the Declaration for Life, we sought to broaden the invitation to a shared resistance and rebellion. For our comrades of the Sixth Declaration and the Declaration for Life, these have been difficult years; however, we have persevered without giving up, without selling out, or without giving in. The storm is no longer a bad omen; it is a present reality. Let the following postscripts reaffirm our commitment, and our affection and respect for those who, while different and diverse, share a vocation and destiny according to their own ways, calendars, and geographies.

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All wars are foreign as long as they don’t knock on your door. But the Storm doesn’t come knocking before then. When you sense it, you no longer have a door, no walls, no roof, no windows. There is no home. There is no life. When it leaves, only the smell of the deadly nightmare remains.

The stench of diesel and gasoline from the machines will come, the noise with which they build upon what was destroyed. «Listen,» says the golden beast, «that sound announces the arrival of progress.»

And so it goes, until the next war.

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War is the homeland of chaos, disorder, arbitrariness, and dehumanization. War is the homeland of money.

The use of missiles, drones, and AI-controlled aircraft is not a «humanization» of war. Rather, it is an economic calculation. A machine yields more profit than a human being. They are more expensive, it is true. But, well, it is a medium-term investment. Their destructive capacity is greater. And there will be no subsequent problems with pangs of conscience, physically and mentally disabled veterans, lawsuits, protests, body bags, and pointless trials in international courts.

This will be the case until the aggressor’s bloodshed becomes profitable again.

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It’s usual to calculate how many people could be fed with the money spent on predatory wars. Adding to the fact that appealing to the sensitivity and empathy of Capital is useless, it’s not usually well measured.

What needs to be quantified is how much profit the shopping mall and tourist area will generate when it is built on a pile of corpses hidden under the rubble (hidden, in turn, under the hotels and recreational centers). Only in this way can the true nature of a war be understood.

The foundations of modern civilization are not built with concrete, but with flesh, bones, and blood—a lot of blood.

The system destroys, only to sell afterwards the thing that replaces what was destroyed. The demolished cities will be replaced by a landscape of apartment buildings, gleaming skyscrapers, shopping malls, and golf courses so smart that even Trump might win, while Netanyahu lectures on human rights, Putin organizes Siberian bear races, and Xi Jinping sells the tickets. A currency symbol shines at the top of the pyramid that gathers the cult of money.

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In recent wars, the arrogant Europe of above has functioned as a beachhead. This is in keeping with its role as a recreation and entertainment zone for Capital. So-called «Eurocentrism» is already part of a nostalgic and stale past. The course of this Europe is decided in the shareholder councils and lobbies of large corporations. The head of Amazon celebrates his wedding in the pool of his country house (Venice), and NATO is the delivery branch and customer of the most profitable goods: weapons.

The governments of the nation states of that continent modestly hide their faces before «Padre Padrone,» from whom they dream of independence by enlisting in the army of Capital. No longer in the future, but right now (as in Ukraine), Capital provides the weapons, Europe the present and future dead, Putin the holograms of a mixture of Tsarism and the USSR, and Xi Jinping fine-tunes his alternative proposal for a social pyramid.

Nearby, not Trump’s offspring, but the heirs of major corporations dream of vacationing in a free Palestine… free of Palestinians. Netanyahu, or his equivalent, will be the gracious host and, after dinner, will entertain visitors with anecdotes of children, women, men, the elderly, hospitals, and schools killed by bombs and starving to death. «I saved millions by using food distribution centers as hunting grounds,» he will boast as he serves the Zibdieh. The diners will applaud.

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War is Capital’s first choice for getting rid of disposables. Religion, political correctness or incorrectness (that no longer matters), fiery speeches and heroic stories fabricated by AI, ceasefires with explosions and gunfire as background music, truces dictated by brokerage firms and oil prices; all of this is just the scenery.

The various gods pretend to be busy championing death and destruction on both sides. And the true god who can do everything and is everywhere, Capital, remains discreet. Or not, cynicism is now a virtue. Behind it all lies the most important thing: the balance sheet of large corporations and banks.

International legislation on military conflicts has been outdated for decades. In modern wars, the UN is merely a reference point for school celebrations. Its statements go no further than the declarations of a beauty pageant contestant: «I wish for peace in the world.»

The armies of Capital are the equivalent of home delivery services. And there are those who, geographically distant from the place of delivery, rate: «5 stars for Netanyahu.» In the race for the «delivery man of the year» award, Trump, Putin, and Netanyahu are in the lead, true. But the system will always have the option of choosing others… or others (don’t forget gender parity).

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Through the mass media, including social media, the distant geographies of the attacked territory assume the role of spectators. As if it were a sports match, they choose their favorite, taking sides. They root for one and boo the other. They rejoice at the successes and are saddened by the failures of the contenders. In the commentary boxes, experts spice up the spectacle. «Geopolitics,» they call it. And they yearn for a change of dominator, not for a change in the relationship in which they are victims.

Do they forget that the world is not a sports stadium? Instead, it resembles a gigantic coliseum where future victims applaud while they wait their turn. They are not gladiators in the waiting room; they are the prey that will fall prey to war machines. Meanwhile, bots with all the avatars and clever nicknames direct the applause, the roars, and the cheers; and, when the time comes, the sound of tears and lamentations.

From his stately box, Capital acknowledges the applause of the audience and listens to the spectators’ silent shouts: «Hail Caesar, those who are about to die salute you.»

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And yet…

One day, on the ruins of history, will lie the corpse of a system that believed itself eternal and omnipresent. Before that dawn, talk of peace is only sarcasm for the victims. But on that day, the eastern sun will look, surprised, upon Palestine, alive. And free, because one can only live free.

Because there are those who say «NO.»

There are those who don’t want to change their boss, but rather to have no boss.

There are those who resist, rebel… and revolt.

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast