“Political cuisine feeds a democratic suicide that is already well under way”

FIGAROVOX/TRIBUNE – The candidacy for the legislative elections of M’jib El Guerrab, accused of having attacked the socialist Boris Faure, is one example among others of the discrepancy between unpraised political mores and a revolted public opinion, explains the journalist.

Benjamin Sire is a composer and journalist. His latest album, Electronica Cinematic was released on April 8.


There is the one, Emmanuel Macron, who speaks to us of rebirth or reinvention and offers us, in this period when the nominations for the legislative elections are decided, the spectacle of the worst political grubs in the designation of candidates. Able to endorse in a constituency of French people living abroad, (the 9th, Maghreb and West Africa), a communitarian deputy author of an unprecedented attack on a former party comrade, in this case M’jib El Guerrab who attacked the socialist Boris Faure with a helmet, succumbs to him in a coma (judgment in progress). Able, while the French are demanding more social justice, to better satisfy the appetites of the right to better finish siphoning it off soothing while Édouard Philippe, and to leave in a carafe a large part of the Republican left having resisted Jean-Luc Mélenchon. Able to mark, as soon as re-elected, his ironic contempt for the working classes by making a cruel pension reform his first project, without either his priority or his demands being validly demonstrated. Short.

There is the one, in the background on the left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, whose lips permanently form the words “democracy”, “freedom”, “people”, “union”, “social justice” and so on, and whose eyes and tone incessantly say the opposite.

Benjamin Sir

There is the one, in the background on the left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, whose lips permanently form the words “democracy”, “freedom”, “people”, “union”, “social justice” and so on, and whose eyes and tone incessantly say the opposite. Capable, after having caught the whole progressive camp in the nets of its Nupes (New Popular Ecological and Social Union), of already threatening to exclude any dissenting voice in its attempt to win a strange third round, because the verdict of the ballot boxes does not he never fits. Capable of speaking of unity while leading the party with the most arbitrary (not to say dictatorial) functioning of the political spectrum. Capable of parachuting, into communist land already proposed as registered candidates, a Taha Bouhafs, who finally threw in the towel in the face of the challenge to his candidacy, of which I do not know if he is racist because he was condemned in the first instance for having called the police trade unionist Linda Kebbab a “service Arab”, but I am not certain that he plays an avowed role with his friends from the Pir, the Adama Committee and other decolonialists, in the entryism which leads a part of the French left in the arms of the Islamists and of a form of separatist. Moreover, his lawyer, the indescribable Arie Alimi, whose portrait I have drawn in these columns, called for the banning of the leader of the PCF, Fabien Roussel, who led a successful campaign against this investiture. Able, between two speeches on equality between men and women, to send his own kind, Gabriel Amard, to present himself in a constituency traditionally evolved to one woman by the Socialist Party. Able to invest his most formidable sidekick, Danielle Simonnet, in the 20th arrondissement, instead of the outgoing socialist deputy, Lamia El Aaraje, supposed to be part of the Nupes agreement. Capable of evacuating the Ukrainian priority issue from this same agreement, on the pretext of its past compromises with Putin and all the autocrats of the planet, arguing on a pseudo non-alignment which has no other meaning than the desire to let hands free to this master of the Kremlin whom he admires so much. Capable of… The list is too long to make it a complete breviary.

And then, there are the others, which will perhaps only give us a more pleasing spectacle. The NPA, undoubtedly the closest ideologically to the Melenchonist troupe, which out of disgust with the social-democratic neighborhood of the PS, and tension at not seeing its insignificance rewarded by winnable constituencies, slammed the door of the Nupsian negotiations in extremis. The PS which brought itself the nails of its coffin to rebellious France, in exchange for the maintenance of a parliamentary group which will make it swallow a whole vivarium of grass snakes. The Greens who have planned their desire for European federalism and their vocal support for Ukraine for the same reasons as the PS, but also with the prospect of being financially bailed out by subsidies paid by the State for each vote obtained. The communists of flexible Roussel, who traded his desire for power stations for a foam wind turbine, and his love of meat for that of quinoa, after meeting Sandrine Rousseau’s gaze. The RN, which out of pride, makes fun of Reconquest, despite executives who have shuttled from one to the other. But of this last point we will only complain lightly. As for the right, let’s not talk about it. Scattered like a puzzle between those who were about to give in to the sirens of zemmourism before the industrial accident of his score in the first round and those who are still questioning themselves to seek the points of disagreement between their elastic convictions and the macronist program. Short. It’s all dirty, very dirty. From popol to dad in a time when these practices constitute a democratic suicide, yet already well done.

How can so many people who have allegedly heard the message of the French for decades testify to the contrary and play with the nerves of the rumbling revolt.

Benjamin Sir

How is all this still possible? How can so many people who have allegedly heard the message of the French for decades testify to the contrary and play with the nerves of the rumbling revolt. Jean-Luc Mélenchon is right on one point: this system is out of breath, if not already dead. An ectoplasm that is still intoxicated by the protective illusion offered by the golds of the Republic. Have they already forgotten the “yellow vests”? Have they already put the protest against the measures taken during the health crisis – which some have excited – in the memory cabinet? Have they already taken out of their memory the exponential progression of a conspiracy signifying the perdition of souls no longer knowing which saint to devote themselves to and ready for all excesses? Have they swept away with all their arrogance the behavior of consumers of voters who vomit out the intermediary bodies and now challenge power directly and without filters? Obviously, yes.

And we, the media, are not left out. Between infotainment which debases politics and polarizes debates in the hatred of an enemy shade of ratings, the backwater of networks where radical and superficial thoughts are valued to the point of nausea, the small ideological compromises born of a journalism of convenience which, by dint of offering us “indiscreet” reports in the mixture of genres, makes us see so much inside the political kitchen, that it prevents us from looking out the window of the country.

Jean-Luc Mélenchon one more reason on one point. He understood that the people will soon be ready for the explosion. Not quite yet. This made him say, speaking of the strategy he was putting in place before our eyes:The conquest of political hegemony has a prerequisite: everything must be conflicted at first, that’s the lesson. How do you believe that a rebellious people is transformed into a revolutionary people?“. He is right and his words should alert us as much as frighten us, because they are those of a sorcerer’s apprentice unable to channel the forces he mobilizes. To God goes and after me the deluge. Thus are born the Terrors. Thus explode the peoples manipulated by the factious and despised by the holders of comfort and power. The latter are not determined, neither wicked, nor inhuman, unlike the factious. They are just blind and indifferent. In the fool’s game of politics, there is no worse insult to the people. Let’s tremble.

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