This text aims especially to be a comprehension tool for the more educated classes exhausted by democracy, because it has never been necessary to explain to the masses that fascism is better.
[...] at the beginning of their historical cycle, democracies tend to be quite hostile towards it and attempt to organize themselves against it with blatantly crude methods, such as passing laws to make it illegal. Fascism, fortunately, knows how to wait. It’s like herpes most—able to survive for entire decades within the marrow of democracy, letting everyone believe it has disappeared, only then to pop out, more viral than ever.
Uma coisa destas, dita assim logo ali nas primeiras páginas de um livro que se chama Manual de como ser fascista, devo confessar, agarrou-me logo. E se Murgia não é a única a debater a possível falência das democracias, já o sarcasmo do narrador por um lado, e a triste e inadvertida advertência das suas palavras por outro, são dois fatores que fazem deste pequenino volume um texto diferenciador e que vale a pena ler. E não é só porque está (ou deveria estar, definitivamente) na ordem do dia, mas também porque não é todos os dias que se aborda de forma quase panfletária e assim satírica um tema tão pesado, que este Manual se revela uma surpresa agridoce que arranca gargalhadas com algum remorso à mistura e, certamente, muito receio de ver estas páginas a ganhar (ainda mais) vida num futuro próximo.
Mas o texto de Murgia tem outro aspeto que o torna único, e que responde ao eterno "não percebi, faz um desenho". Pois este Manual é, efetivamente, o desenho de tudo aquilo que vai perpassando incólume nos bastidores das notícias nos últimos anos — da corrupção eleitoral, à sublevação de organizações paramilitares, ao abuso de poder, à violência exercida contra grupos desprotegidos (crianças, mulheres, migrantes...), etc — oferecido aos leitores numa bandeja de prata, sem guarnição.
Not all populisms are fascisms, but every fascism is first of all a form of populism, because—though it is never born among the people—fascism talks about them in the way that the people like being talked about: strong-willed, weak only by circumstance, generators of national authenticity, the true heroes of society.
A retórica que Murgia expõe é a retórica perigosa da fascismo, mas também a retórica imperfeita da democracia que, entre furos e brechas, e muitas preocupações com o politicamente correto, deixa que se infiltre, gota a gota, a demagogia da extrema-direita:
This tendency of democracies to legitimize everything is undoubtedly stupid, but extremely useful for fascism: if you show up for an election having cautiously avoided explicitly saying “We’re fascists”, there is a good probability that the democratic fools will let you run, take votes and even rule, convinced that you’re just an opponent with different ideas. A bit like Troy, there is no need to lay siege to it: you just need to build a wooden horse and democratic institutions themselves will open the door for you. Introducing yourself as the opponent is an excellent Trojan horse.
Mas a autora não ataca diretamente os preceitos do fascismo, até porque o seu narrador é, ele mesmo, um fascista. Inteligentemente, ela encaminha o leitor por um trilho arriscado, demonstrando com que facilidade se adere a uma cor, com que agilidade se é levado a acreditar em falácias e a replicar ideais escatológicos:
The more a democracy is representative of every single political minority, the slower the executive process will be, and this, in turn, will be seen by the people as insufferable inaction. However, in case the people take too long to understand that democratic slowness is to blame for this inefficiency, we must make use of every situation to belittle parliamentarianism, and its forms of representation, and suggest presidentialism, for example, as the more efficient alternative.
Para tal, neste Manual reflete-se sobre os métodos do fascismo (que sim, também tem o seu lado científico), sobretudo no que diz respeito ao uso da linguagem...
[...]they all wish, with all their might, that fascism didn’t exist, that it’s something from the past and that there is no chance of its reappearing. It follows that they will voluntarily ignore all signs that point to the fact that we’ve always been here, we never left, and we’ve been reorganizing for years. They’ll call us “nostalgic”, “alt-right”, “nationalists”, or whatever, but they will be the first not to want to say the word “fascists”, because it reawakens not us—as we’re fully awake—but their own ghosts.
Unlike an opponent, with its annoying tendency to be recognizable in a person or faction, the enemy doesn’t have a fixed identity, often not even a name, so it can be found in general, vague categories such as “migrants”, “Islamists”, “markets”, “liberals”, “activists”, “globalists”, “anarchists” or “feminists”. This allows us to call absolutely anyone an enemy, even those who have no idea you exist. The advantage is that you can fight the enemy entirely from one side, because it will remain useful whatever the reaction: it just needs to exist (and, sometimes, not even that).
...e ao controlo da narrativa...
Democracy supporters made a choice and called it history, but it’s still a choice they made. For this reason, we need to clarify the distinction between memories and memory: the former are the personal belonging of individuals; the latter is the result of a collective process. The difference, for a fascist, is crucial: the keepers of memories will eventually die out, so it makes no sense to fight them directly. We just need to wait and prepare to reclaim the truth of our own past.
The sequence that a fascist will follow, once the time is right, is linear: pollute the memory of others, then destabilize it and, finally, rewrite it.
...para passar às ferramentas de eleição dos regimes totalitários, entre elas a tecnologia...
Not too long ago there was an efficient system for dealing with the chaos generated by this undisciplined pretence: fascism identified the dissidents and silenced them by exiling and isolating them or sending them directly to prison, where no one could hear them[...]Unfortunately, the rise of the internet has changed things drastically[...]making it impossible actually to prevent anyone from speaking. This is definitely a problem, but fascism has never avoided making an opportunity out of a problem, and when chaos cannot be stopped, we must use it to further our goals.[...]the best, fascist solution, then, is to let them speak. Always. All of them. At the same time. About everything. Without any hierarchy or authority of opinions.[...] Because the fact that everyone does it means that each and every voice becomes indistinguishable
from the others, and ultimately irrelevant.
...e os meios de comunicação, sobretudo aqueles informais:
[...]it’s not true that we’re all equal in new media: if you’re a nobody, you’re equal to other nobodies, but if you use these tools from a position of power, that same power will be felt through them. All tools, if used in a fascist manner, become useful to fascism.
Mas este texto, claro, como desenho rudimentar que se oferece, também se vê obrigado a versar sobre as sempre minimizadas questões da família e da mulher...
Fascism, the politics of common sense, has as its main duty that of bringing things back to their natural order, and starting with woman is crucial, because woman is the support of man, and man is the head of the family: if you remove her, it all falls down. Fascism knows that women aren’t independent. In nature, the female seeks protection, and it’s no different for human females: they need men because the latter are strong, and they are weak. They are precious thanks to their maternal functions and naturally inclined to warmth; women are delicate and it is our duty to protect them, especially when—in their irrationality—they claim they don’t need to be protected. They must never be exposed to risks, find themselves in places that aren’t safe, or behave without inhibition, making others think they may be available, putting them in danger. [...]Fascist wisdom must remind women that their demand to be strong is precisely what made them into targets, and that removing themselves from their naturally assigned role has also destabilized their men, who often—wounded and feeling abandoned—react in a disorderly way, with consequences that it would be best
for all to avoid.
...e sobre a penosa hierarquia socioeconómica e cultural:
A real populist deals with everyone according to their needs: the poor receive some free fish every year; the middle class receive a fridge to store what’s left over; and the upper classes receive the pond where everyone will have to pay to fish.
Num texto evidentemente satírico, áspero, e demasiado realista para ser levado só a rir, Murgia demonstra que a ideologia do fascismo é facilmente assimilável e replicável, e que a postura defensiva a que nos votamos nestas questões facilmente é rebatida como, no mínimo, cooperante. E se a leitura deste panfleto ainda deixar dúvidas acerca da nossa aquiescência em potência, o questionário no final do livro - ou fascistómetro, como a autora o apelida - dividido em cinco níveis entre os quais o perigoso "não sou fascista, mas...", depressa tira ao leitor o sorriso dos lábios.
I know: right about now you’d like me to tell you—in closing—that this has all been a provocation, that it was all a fun game to try to change our point of view, but that now the game is over and everything goes back in its place, the fascists over there, us over here, on the side of democracy. But no. The things I’ve written, though not all of them and not always, I have actually thought out loud at some point in my life—the more cold, superficial, angry, ignorant moments— even if just for one second; and I believe everyone else has, too. [...] The risk we run is saying: if everything is fascism, then nothing is. This is not the case. Not everything is fascism, but fascism has the amazing property, without adequate vigilance, of contaminating absolutely anything and everything.
Muito bem, Sra. Murgia, conseguiu deixar-me com medo de mim mesma!