Reflections On Gandhi. Por George Orwell.

“Saints should always be judged guilty until they are proved innocent…” De este modo comienza el célebre ensayo sobre Gandhi. Les ruego su lectura, para los que no lean inglés recuerden que Google tiene traductor. El link aquí.

Las comparaciones siempre resultan nefastas, aquí está probado. Comparar a Fariñas con Gandhi sólo se hace debido a la inmensa ignorancia, de la que una gran cantidad de personas padece. Como, por otro lado, comparar a 39 enfermos mentales, muertos en Cuba, por culpa del abandono de los médicos que trabajan y actúan bajo órdenes del régimen castrista, con los 6 millones de víctimas del Holocausto, me parece una falta de respeto ante el Holocausto inaguantable, pero sobre todo ante las otras víctimas castristas, asesinadas realmente por los Castro, que no son sólo 39, son muchísimas más. Hace algunos veranos en Francia murieron 15 mil ancianos, abandonados por los médicos y por sus familiares, a causa de la canícula que abrasó Francia; a nadie se le ocurrió sacar fotos de este horror y comparar el Holocausto con este horrendo acontecimiento.

Además, para comparar debemos buscar abogados, iniciar un proceso judicial, y las fotos deben servirnos como pruebas, no como comparaciones que nos colocan en situaciones verdaderamente ridículas.

Los crímenes de Castro están totalmente relatados y compendiados, los cadáveres existen, por desgracia. No tenemos que vernos en la obligación de mostrar lo evidente. A estas alturas, el que no lo sabe o no se han enterado, es porque no ha querido.

Zoé Valdés.

El texto completo aquí:

“Reflections On Gandhi

by George Orwell

Saints should always be judged guilty until they are proved innocent, but the tests that have to be applied to them are not, of course, the same in all cases. In Gandhi’s case the questions on feels inclined to ask are: to what extent was Gandhi moved by vanity – by the consciousness of himself as a humble, naked old man, sitting on a praying mat and shaking empires by sheer spiritual power – and to what extent did he compromise his own principles by entering politics, which of their nature are inseparable from coercion and fraud? To give a definite answer one would have to study Gandhi’s acts and writings in immense detail, for his whole life was a sort of pilgrimage in which every act was significant. But this partial autobiography, which ends in the nineteen-twenties, is strong evidence in his favor, all the more because it covers what he would have called the unregenerate part of his life and reminds one that inside the saint, or near-saint, there was a very shrewd, able person who could, if he had chosen, have been a brilliant success as a lawyer, an administrator or perhaps even a businessman.

At about the time when the autobiography first appeared I remember reading its opening chapters in the ill-printed pages of some Indian newspaper. They made a good impression on me, which Gandhi himself at that time did not. The things that one associated with him – home-spun cloth, “soul forces” and vegetarianism – were unappealing, and his medievalist program was obviously not viable in a backward, starving, over-populated country. It was also apparent that the British were making use of him, or thought they were making use of him. Strictly speaking, as a Nationalist, he was an enemy, but since in every crisis he would exert himself to prevent violence – which, from the British point of view, meant preventing any effective action whatever – he could be regarded as “our man.” In private this was sometimes cynically admitted. The attitude of the Indian millionaires was similar. Gandhi called upon them to repent, and naturally they preferred him to the Socialists and Communists who, given the chance, would actually have taken their money away. How reliable such calculations are in the long run is doubtful; as Gandhi himself says, “in the end deceivers deceive only themselves”; but at any rate the gentleness with which he was nearly always handled was due partly to the feeling that he was useful. The British Conservatives only became really angry with him when, as in 1942, he was in effect turning his non-violence against a different conqueror.

But I could see even then that the British officials who spoke of him with a mixture of amusement and disapproval also genuinely liked and admired him, after a fashion. Nobody ever suggested that he was corrupt, or ambitious in any vulgar way, or that anything he did was actuated by fear or malice. In judging a man like Gandhi one seems instinctively to apply high standards, so that some of his virtues have passed almost unnoticed. For instance, it is clear even from the autobiography that his natural physical courage was quite outstanding: the manner of his death was a later illustration of this, for a public man who attached any value to his own skin would have been more adequately guarded. Again, he seems to have been quite free from that maniacal suspiciousness which, as E.M. Forster rightly says in A Passage to India, is the besetting Indian vice, as hypocrisy is the British vice. Although no doubt he was shrewd enough in detecting dishonesty, he seems wherever possible to have believed that other people were acting in good faith and had a better nature through which they could be approached. And though he came of a poor middle-class family, started life rather unfavorably, and was probably of unimpressive physical appearance, he was not afflicted by envy or by the feeling of inferiority. Color feeling when he first met it in its worst form in South Africa, seems rather to have astonished him. Even when he was fighting what was in effect a color war, he did not think of people in terms of race or status. The governor of a province, a cotton millionaire, a half-starved Dravidian coolie, a British private soldier were all equally human beings, to be approached in much the same way. It is noticeable that even in the worst possible circumstances, as in South Africa when he was making himself unpopular as the champion of the Indian community, he did not lack European friends.

Written in short lengths for newspaper serialization, the autobiography is not a literary masterpiece, but it is the more impressive because of the commonplaceness of much of its material. It is well to be reminded that Gandhi started out with the normal ambitions of a young Indian student and only adopted his extremist opinions by degrees and, in some cases, rather unwillingly. There was a time, it is interesting to learn, when he wore a top hat, took dancing lessons, studied French and Latin, went up the Eiffel Tower and even tried to learn the violin – all this was the idea of assimilating European civilization as throughly as possible. He was not one of those saints who are marked out by their phenomenal piety from childhood onwards, nor one of the other kind who forsake the world after sensational debaucheries. He makes full confession of the misdeeds of his youth, but in fact there is not much to confess. As a frontispiece to the book there is a photograph of Gandhi’s possessions at the time of his death. The whole outfit could be purchased for about 5 pounds***, and Gandhi’s sins, at least his fleshly sins, would make the same sort of appearance if placed all in one heap. A few cigarettes, a few mouthfuls of meat, a few annas pilfered in childhood from the maidservant, two visits to a brothel (on each occasion he got away without “doing anything”), one narrowly escaped lapse with his landlady in Plymouth, one outburst of temper – that is about the whole collection. Almost from childhood onwards he had a deep earnestness, an attitude ethical rather than religious, but, until he was about thirty, no very definite sense of direction. His first entry into anything describable as public life was made by way of vegetarianism. Underneath his less ordinary qualities one feels all the time the solid middle-class businessmen who were his ancestors. One feels that even after he had abandoned personal ambition he must have been a resourceful, energetic lawyer and a hard-headed political organizer, careful in keeping down expenses, an adroit handler of committees and an indefatigable chaser of subscriptions. His character was an extraordinarily mixed one, but there was almost nothing in it that you can put your finger on and call bad, and I believe that even Gandhi’s worst enemies would admit that he was an interesting and unusual man who enriched the world simply by being alive . Whether he was also a lovable man, and whether his teachings can have much for those who do not accept the religious beliefs on which they are founded, I have never felt fully certain.

Of late years it has been the fashion to talk about Gandhi as though he were not only sympathetic to the Western Left-wing movement, but were integrally part of it. Anarchists and pacifists, in particular, have claimed him for their own, noticing only that he was opposed to centralism and State violence and ignoring the other-worldly, anti-humanist tendency of his doctrines. But one should, I think, realize that Gandhi’s teachings cannot be squared with the belief that Man is the measure of all things and that our job is to make life worth living on this earth, which is the only earth we have. They make sense only on the assumption that God exists and that the world of solid objects is an illusion to be escaped from. It is worth considering the disciplines which Gandhi imposed on himself and which – though he might not insist on every one of his followers observing every detail – he considered indispensable if one wanted to serve either God or humanity. First of all, no meat-eating, and if possible no animal food in any form. (Gandhi himself, for the sake of his health, had to compromise on milk, but seems to have felt this to be a backsliding.) No alcohol or tobacco, and no spices or condiments even of a vegetable kind, since food should be taken not for its own sake but solely in order to preserve one’s strength. Secondly, if possible, no sexual intercourse. If sexual intercourse must happen, then it should be for the sole purpose of begetting children and presumably at long intervals. Gandhi himself, in his middle thirties, took the vow of brahmacharya, which means not only complete chastity but the elimination of sexual desire. This condition, it seems, is difficult to attain without a special diet and frequent fasting. One of the dangers of milk-drinking is that it is apt to arouse sexual desire. And finally – this is the cardinal point – for the seeker after goodness there must be no close friendships and no exclusive loves whatever.

Close friendships, Gandhi says, are dangerous, because “friends react on one another” and through loyalty to a friend one can be led into wrong-doing. This is unquestionably true. Moreover, if one is to love God, or to love humanity as a whole, one cannot give one’s preference to any individual person. This again is true, and it marks the point at which the humanistic and the religious attitude cease to be reconcilable. To an ordinary human being, love means nothing if it does not mean loving some people more than others. The autobiography leaves it uncertain whether Gandhi behaved in an inconsiderate way to his wife and children, but at any rate it makes clear that on three occasions he was willing to let his wife or a child die rather than administer the animal food prescribed by the doctor. It is true that the threatened death never actually occurred, and also that Gandhi – with, one gathers, a good deal of moral pressure in the opposite direction – always gave the patient the choice of staying alive at the price of committing a sin: still, if the decision had been solely his own, he would have forbidden the animal food, whatever the risks might be. There must, he says, be some limit to what we will do in order to remain alive, and the limit is well on this side of chicken broth. This attitude is perhaps a noble one, but, in the sense which – I think – most people would give to the word, it is inhuman. The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection, that one is sometimes willing to commit sins for the sake of loyalty, that one does not push asceticism to the point where it makes friendly intercourse impossible, and that one is prepared in the end to be defeated and broken up by life, which is the inevitable price of fastening one’s love upon other human individuals. No doubt alcohol, tobacco, and so forth, are things that a saint must avoid, but sainthood is also a thing that human beings must avoid. There is an obvious retort to this, but one should be wary about making it. In this yogi-ridden age, it is too readily assumed that “non-attachment” is not only better than a full acceptance of earthly life, but that the ordinary man only rejects it because it is too difficult: in other words, that the average human being is a failed saint. It is doubtful whether this is true. Many people genuinely do not wish to be saints, and it is probable that some who achieve or aspire to sainthood have never felt much temptation to be human beings. If one could follow it to its psychological roots, one would, I believe, find that the main motive for “non-attachment” is a desire to escape from the pain of living, and above all from love, which, sexual or non-sexual, is hard work. But it is not necessary here to argue whether the other-worldly or the humanistic ideal is “higher”. The point is that they are incompatible. One must choose between God and Man, and all “radicals” and “progressives,” from the mildest Liberal to the most extreme Anarchist, have in effect chosen Man.

However, Gandhi’s pacifism can be separated to some extent from his other teachings. Its motive was religious, but he claimed also for it that it was a definitive technique, a method, capable of producing desired political results. Gandhi’s attitude was not that of most Western pacifists. Satyagraha, first evolved in South Africa, was a sort of non-violent warfare, a way of defeating the enemy without hurting him and without feeling or arousing hatred. It entailed such things as civil disobedience, strikes, lying down in front of railway trains, enduring police charges without running away and without hitting back, and the like. Gandhi objected to “passive resistance” as a translation of Satyagraha: in Gujarati, it seems, the word means “firmness in the truth.” In his early days Gandhi served as a stretcher-bearer on the British side in the Boer War, and he was prepared to do the same again in the war of 1914-18. Even after he had completely abjured violence he was honest enough to see that in war it is usually necessary to take sides. He did not – indeed, since his whole political life centred round a struggle for national independence, he could not – take the sterile and dishonest line of pretending that in every war both sides are exactly the same and it makes no difference who wins. Nor did he, like most Western pacifists, specialize in avoiding awkward questions. In relation to the late war, one question that every pacifist had a clear obligation to answer was: “What about the Jews? Are you prepared to see them exterminated? If not, how do you propose to save them without resorting to war?” I must say that I have never heard, from any Western pacifist, an honest answer to this question, though I have heard plenty of evasions, usually of the “you’re another” type. But it so happens that Gandhi was asked a somewhat similar question in 1938 and that his answer is on record in Mr. Louis Fischer’s Gandhi and Stalin. According to Mr. Fischer, Gandhi’s view was that the German Jews ought to commit collective suicide, which “would have aroused the world and the people of Germany to Hitler’s violence.” After the war he justified himself: the Jews had been killed anyway, and might as well have died significantly. One has the impression that this attitude staggered even so warm an admirer as Mr. Fischer, but Gandhi was merely being honest. If you are not prepared to take life, you must often be prepared for lives to be lost in some other way. When, in 1942, he urged non-violent resistance against a Japanese invasion, he was ready to admit that it might cost several million deaths.

At the same time there is reason to think that Gandhi, who after all was born in 1869, did not understand the nature of totalitarianism and saw everything in terms of his own struggle against the British government. The important point here is not so much that the British treated him forbearingly as that he was always able to command publicity. As can be seen from the phrase quoted above, he believed in “arousing the world,” which is only possible if the world gets a chance to hear what you are doing. It is difficult to see how Gandhi’s methods could be applied in a country where opponents of the regime disappear in the middle of the night and are never heard of again. Without a free press and the right of assembly, it is impossible not merely to appeal to outside opinion, but to bring a mass movement into being, or even to make your intentions known to your adversary. Is there a Gandhi in Russia at this moment? And if there is, what is he accomplishing? The Russian masses could only practise civil disobedience if the same idea happened to occur to all of them simultaneously, and even then, to judge by the history of the Ukraine famine, it would make no difference. But let it be granted that non-violent resistance can be effective against one’s own government, or against an occupying power: even so, how does one put it into practise internationally? Gandhi’s various conflicting statements on the late war seem to show that he felt the difficulty of this. Applied to foreign politics, pacifism either stops being pacifist or becomes appeasement. Moreover the assumption, which served Gandhi so well in dealing with individuals, that all human beings are more or less approachable and will respond to a generous gesture, needs to be seriously questioned. It is not necessarily true, for example, when you are dealing with lunatics. Then the question becomes: Who is sane? Was Hitler sane? And is it not possible for one whole culture to be insane by the standards of another? And, so far as one can gauge the feelings of whole nations, is there any apparent connection between a generous deed and a friendly response? Is gratitude a factor in international politics?

These and kindred questions need discussion, and need it urgently, in the few years left to us before somebody presses the button and the rockets begin to fly. It seems doubtful whether civilization can stand another major war, and it is at least thinkable that the way out lies through non-violence. It is Gandhi’s virtue that he would have been ready to give honest consideration to the kind of question that I have raised above; and, indeed, he probably did discuss most of these questions somewhere or other in his innumerable newspaper articles. One feels of him that there was much he did not understand, but not that there was anything that he was frightened of saying or thinking. I have never been able to feel much liking for Gandhi, but I do not feel sure that as a political thinker he was wrong in the main, nor do I believe that his life was a failure. It is curious that when he was assassinated, many of his warmest admirers exclaimed sorrowfully that he had lived just long enough to see his life work in ruins, because India was engaged in a civil war which had always been foreseen as one of the byproducts of the transfer of power. But it was not in trying to smooth down Hindu-Moslem rivalry that Gandhi had spent his life. His main political objective, the peaceful ending of British rule, had after all been attained. As usual the relevant facts cut across one another. On the other hand, the British did get out of India without fighting, and event which very few observers indeed would have predicted until about a year before it happened. On the other hand, this was done by a Labour government, and it is certain that a Conservative government, especially a government headed by Churchill, would have acted differently. But if, by 1945, there had grown up in Britain a large body of opinion sympathetic to Indian independence, how far was this due to Gandhi’s personal influence? And if, as may happen, India and Britain finally settle down into a decent and friendly relationship, will this be partly because Gandhi, by keeping up his struggle obstinately and without hatred, disinfected the political air? That one even thinks of asking such questions indicates his stature. One may feel, as I do, a sort of aesthetic distaste for Gandhi, one may reject the claims of sainthood made on his behalf (he never made any such claim himself, by the way), one may also reject sainthood as an ideal and therefore feel that Gandhi’s basic aims were anti-human and reactionary: but regarded simply as a politician, and compared with the other leading political figures of our time, how clean a smell he has managed to leave behind!

Published in ‘Partisan Review’
January, 1949″.

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25 Replies to “Reflections On Gandhi. Por George Orwell.”

  1. No sé quién dijo que ‘la ignorancia es muy osada’. Desde luego que quien quiera que lo haya dicho, fue certero.

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  2. Zoe ,Te cayo una brigada de Respuesta Rapida bajo las ordenes de nuestro General Sentado nuestro Gloriozo Pajaro Tieso ,al frente de sus Talibanes de Teclados pues ya pasar de la Tecla a otros asuntos es para comepingas ,lo que a ellos se les da es la Muela Bizca y Guaperia de Escritorio ,pues son muy Pencos para asumir otra posicion ,por eso empujan pues el que lo hace no se da golpe ,ellos son mueleros pero no comemierdas ,asi que no le hagas casos que de estos hemos tenidos cientos ,pero como te dije ya tienen fecha de caducidad en el culo y lo peor y mas triste es que ellos lo saben,asi que a llorar al Parque

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  3. en Cuba Nadie quedara desamparado dijo la Hiena, y una de sus pulgas repite que es dificil morirse en Cuba, los pobres viejitos, que en la paz de Dios descansen, estaban recluidos en una institucion medica que supuestamente debia cuidarlos y proporcionarles atencion, resulta que en su tormento andaban hambrientos, en harapos, pobres desechos humanos vagando sin paz, mueren tantos en una noche no victimas de la opcion final sino de la dejadez, la indolencia y el salvese quien pueda que definen la sociedad cubana de hoy (opcion final?), corre la noticia de boca en boca y se olvida, todos siguen tranquilitos y a lo maximo meteran a la carcel al administrador de mazorra. la canicule le costo el puesto al ministro de salud frances en aquel momento y me imagino que un fuerte debate social tambien, de manera que las fotos tienen un serio valor de denuncia y de desenmascaramiento en una sociedad a oscuras. en paz descansen los ancianitos.

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  4. Gracias a todos. family guy, mi idea del final de castrismo no pasa solamente porque truenen a un ministro de salud, ya de tronados hemos visto mucho. La culpa es del castrismo, eso no deja lugar a dudas; pero ¿deberíamos compararlo con el Holocausto? Nuestro Holocausto ha sido a cuenta gotas y durante años, eso es lo que debemos probar, en tribunales.

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  5. Muy bien dicho Zoé. Clara como siempre. Gracias por el texto de Orwell: Priceless.

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  6. Ghandi siempre fue un gran hijo de puta, lo he repetido hasta la saciedad, que no se como hay gente que quiere equiparse a Mandela o a Ghandi, y de paso, decir que estan por la democracia. Esos dos son cualquier cosas menos representantes de la democracia. Pero siguen con la maldita costumbre de erigir pedestales. Cualquier dia se les encarama en ellos un nuevo tirano.

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  7. Como yo he sido de las que he usado los ejemplos de Gandhi, Mandela y MLK Jr ante la pregunta de muchos: para que hacer huelgas de hambre? Creo que la muerte de Zapata fue una tragedia y Fariñas ha llegado a la misma conclusion, esta en las palabras del himno nacional: Morir por la patria es vivir. Sere ignorante ( G.O. era socialista, despues de todo) y Gandhi hizo mal en dividir India y crear Pakistan, pero el hombre era hombre, no santo ( al menos el concepto que me inculcaron quienes son santos, como Juana de Arco, que murio en la pira, tambien por su patria, una especie de suicidio ) Todas esas personas son grandes personas y ahora Zapata forma parte del patrimonio nacional, gustele a los Castros o no. Los use solo de referencia, si el honor y la conviccion de morirse de hambre por una causa justa tiene justificacion.

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  8. anarene, usted no ha sido la única que ha usado el símil, hasta el otro día yo también ignoraba muchas cosas, ese no es el problema… por otro lado, Zapata Tamayo murió asesinado, 18 días sin que le suministraran agua, murió a-se-si-na-do… usted está en su derecho de apoyar las huelgas de hambre, y yo estoy en el mío de no aceptarlas, la vida es la vida, y es muy cómodo instigar a que la gente se muera… ¿no le parece que con Zapata Tamayo tenemos suficiente, así como con los once anteriores que también murieron a causa de las huelgas? No es justo que los negros cubanos tengan que dar su vida de esa forma, y la prensa haciendo su cocina con eso. Si usted lee asiduamente este blog, habrá visto que antes que muchos he apoyado siempre a los presos políticos, y a todos los que luchan por la libertad de Cuba, con algunos estoy de acuerdo con sus métodos, con otros no lo estoy, y estoy en mi derecho de desmarcarme públicamente de la manera de hacer las cosas de os segundos. Del mismo modo que muchos no estarán de acuerdo con mi forma de pensar, y me han criticado como han querido.

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  9. Muchas veces es mejor ser un Ignorante y no un sabio ,que sabe que tantas de las cosas que conocen,son MENTIRAS..

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  10. anarene: cuando fue que Gandhi dividio la india? como no haya sido dar su aprobacion y bajar la cabeza ante un `fait accompli` al cual se oponia?
    no olvidar que la India tuvo la “suerte“ de estar bajo un imperio como el Britanico que no dudaba en reprimir y matar en las colonias pero donde la libertad de expresion y la fuerza de la opinion publica en casa ponia coto y elevaba (merecidamente en este caso) a personalidades como Gandhi. En la insignificante ciudad de santa clara, provincia de la pobrisima islita de Cuba, señorio absoluto del mas celebre de los cubanos (la hiena de biran entiendase bien), el pobre Coco, que no es abogado, ni religioso, ni asceta, ni tiene millones de seguidores, en un pais donde no lo conoce nadie y donde nadie va a dejar su turno en la cola del aceite para preocuparse por el, tiene el coraje suicida o de martir que es muy parecido de declarase en huelga de hambre hasta que liberen a los prisioneros enfermos, como Gandhi, presionar con su vida para lograr un objetivo loable, solo que esta vez Bapu esta solito y nos reimos de el

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  11. “how clean a smell he has managed to leave behind!”
    Lo dijo Orwell, el grande, y el gran maestro de la lengua inglesa.
    Thanks.

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  12. ¿Cómo le iba a simpatizar Gandhi a George Orwell si este nació en la India cuando era colonia británica? Me quedo mil veces con los errores y con las contradicciones de un hombre como Gandhi, que con el error de George Orwell de haber defendido activamente la república española procomunista y con la contradicción de que a pesar de criticar posteriormente el estalinismo y el totalitarismo en su obra, seguía simpatizando con el marxismo.
    Y está claro que comparar a Fariñas con Gandhi es un burrada del tamaño de una casa; por las diferencias políticas, sociales e históricas; y por las dimensiones de los personajes. La lucha de Gandhi no era aislada y solitaria, tenía millones de seguidores que lo apoyaban, era un líder político y espiritual (le guste a quien no lo guste como a George Orwell) y el sabía utilizar ese apoyo.
    Me quedo con este extracto del artículo de George Orwell:

    “Nunca he sentido mucha simpatía por Gandhi, pero no estoy seguro de que como pensador político estuviera equivocado en lo esencial, como tampoco estoy de acuerdo con que su vida haya sido un fracaso”.

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  13. Desde mi desconocimiento y mi lejanía, creo que Fariñas comete el mismo error que la inmensa mayoría de la disidencia: olvidar que sin una labor previa, profunda y larga de PROSELITISMO cualquier acto “heroico” corre el riesgo de rozar el esperpento y cualquier muerte será una muerte en vano. ¿Qué es difícil hacer proselitismo en Cuba?… bienvenidos al mundo real…

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  14. “Los crímenes de Castro están totalmente relatados y compendiados, los cadáveres existen, por desgracia. No tenemos que vernos en la obligación de mostrar lo evidente. A estas alturas, el que no lo sabe o no se han enterado, es porque no ha querido.”

    ¿Donde estan totalmente relatados y compendiados?
    Todo lo contrario. A estas alturas la mayoria de las personas se creen el cuento oficial de los castro. incluso, la mayoria de las personas que disienten, tampoco estan al corriente de estos crimenes.
    Por eso, me parece bien que circulen esas fotos.

    http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8651022748461368432#
    http://cubasincadenas.invisionzone.com/index.php?showtopic=598&st=0

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  15. Zoe, cuando yo mencione el holocausto, no comparaba los muertos de Mazorra con los muertos en los campos de concentracion. Me referia a la logica del razonamiento de Tania Quintero en referencia a si las fotos se debian mostrar o no. La labor de mostrar lo que ha hecho y continua haciendo la dictadura no me parece que deba cesar nunca. Si en algo los judios han sido muy efectivos es en mostrarle al mundo los terribles crimenes del fascismo. Los sobrevivientes de los campos de concentracion van a las escuelas y dan charlas, crean paginas de internet, producen documentales, escriben libros. No soy muy dado a comparar crimenes. Un crimen es un crimen es un crimen.

    George Orwell, alguien que lei con mucho interes en mi juventud. Le debo una relectura. Gracias.

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  16. Necesito hacer una aclaracion: No estoy de acuerdo con las huelgas de hambre. Nunca dije que las apruebo, solamente que personas historicas de gran convicion politicas las han usado para hacer llegar al mundo sus temas, y respetando las conviciones de hombres grandes, las respeto. Hacen lo que yo no se si yo tendria el valor de hacer.
    Hay personas que le tienen antipatia a Mother Teresa por defender la vida en un pais superpoblado y hambriento, pero tenia conviccion.
    Respecto a Gandhi, yo no conzoco su historia con esa profundidad, trabajo con Pakistanis y con Hinduis, y entiendo que aprobo la creacion de Pakistan, y por tanto divido India. Si mi interpretacion es erronea, lo siento. En la democracia todos tenemos derecho a nuestra opiniones, pero deben de ser iluminada y verificadas para no quedar mal.
    Gracias.

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  17. No matter what others say, I think it is still interesting and useful maybe necessary to improve some minor things

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  18. You have really great taste on catch article titles, even when you are not interested in this topic you push to read it

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  19. Zoe: Cuando lei tu articulo sobre la amistad y la poesia en “Libre” me quede asombrado por los errores que escribiste sobre Marti, casi parece que no has leido nunca una biografia de nuestro apostol, en primer lugar Marti tuvo amores con Carmen Mantilla que era la esposa de Manuel Mantilla no de Manuel Mercado, Manuel era el dueno de la casa de huespedes donde Marti se alojo y se decia que estaba enfermo, parece que Carmen se enamoro de el y cometio adulterio y por eso se piensa que Maria Mantilla era la hija de Jose Marti, en realidad Manuel Mercado era el amigo mejicano a quien Marti le escribe su ultima carta ya en Cuba y se dice que esta carta fue su testamento politico, en realidad Manuel Mantilla nunca fue calificado como un amigo de Jose Marti. Perdone por la aclaracion pero me parece raro que una mujer culta, escritora y periodista como Ud se le hayan escapado tantos errores seguidos, uno detras del otro.

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  20. No tengo nada que moderar, todo lo que he dicho se puede leer en la ultima edicion de la Revista Libre que se edita aqui en Miami y el articulo de Zoe se llama: La amistad en la poesia” Por favor, creo que a ella le conviene esta pequena nota que le hago para que lea maas sobre esta parte de la vida de nuestro apostol Marti. Gracias

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  21. Que lastima que Ud no sepa recibir una critica constructiva y hecha con una buena intencion. perdone, no volvere a escribirle ni a leerla.

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  22. Jorge Menéndez, supongo que con acento, siento usted lector tiene todo el derecho a criticar mi obra. Ese pequeño ensayo forma parte de un libro de poemas que se titula Anatomía de la mirada, yo siempre he aclarado y en esta ocasión es así, que yo no hago ensayos históricos, que yo hago ensayos novelados, que a mí me gusta hacer coincidir en ellos lo imposible. Es el caso. Me gustaba más que Carmen Mantilla hubiese sido la esposa de Manuel Mercado que de Manuel Mantilla, de este modo la cosa se complejizaba.
    Por otro lado, yo no soy una historiadora, soy poeta y novelista. Gracias por sus reflexiones. Espero que esa edición de Libre haya aclarado en su página que mi texto forma parte del libro Anatomía de la mirada, poesía y ensayo novelado. Por cierto, no me han mandado un ejemplar, y claro que tampoco me han pagado.

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  23. También le recuerdo que el ensayo es mucho más que ese “error” que usted cita, y que tengo otros ensayos de Martí que le invito a leer en este blog, como Mujer de Martí. Gracias.

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  24. Zoe, yo no quise “atarugarla” mucho pero, aparte de que su articulo no parecia una especie de Novela sino un articulo historico, la poesia de Juana Borrero que Ud copia no me parece en absoluto un poema “erotico” perdone si la molesto, en realidad soy un simple lector, no tengo nada de Critico de Arte ni mucho menos, Jorge

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  25. Si, perdone, pero no se ponerle los acentos a las palabras en esta computadora ni tampoco el tilde de la n a las enes que lo llevan. Gracias por su aclaracion, creo que tambien lei el articulo que menciona en la revista Libre de la pasada semana y siento que no le hayan pagado pero no es mi culpa, si tuviera dinero le pagaba yo mismo. Jorge

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