Olivos manchados de sangre
No estaría de más algún mural, pancarta, alguna señal de que la crueldad no puede ser el cimiento de la política, a todos los niveles
A murmur exists that one either loves or despises a city, based on criticism. Personally, I have been criticizing Madrid, even when I liked the old mayor who guided it, since I arrived at its outskirts at twelve years old. Perhaps it was precisely that peripheral situation that gave me a privileged view of urban shortcomings, as from the neighborhoods one perceives everything we lack: metro, parks, social services.
No one considered marching in protest an indicator of lack of affection. Madrid's fortune is that it has always been a city open to criticism. However, there is today a neonationalism inspired by its leaders, seeking to silence voices who, paying their taxes here, stand up to say they do not want a city destined only to economic benefit, policies that are draining the character of this beloved imperfect city, which "unites us not with love, but with astonishment."
Written by urgent.news from El Pais's reporting — not their text. Machine-written — may contain errors; check the original before relying on it.
