FLASH
Shkruar nga Lutfi Dervishi
In Propagandistan, the Prime Minister is more interested in seeing the graphs of the increase or decrease in the number of likes than the (macro) economic indicators.
On the shores of the Adriatic and the Ionian, bordered by the sea with the West and by land with the Balkan neighbors, there is an ancient country whose new name is: Propagandistan.
After a popular consultation, the government of this country recently replaced the eagle on the national flag with the sign of two Facebook likes. Here the art of governance is not expressed through policies and reforms, but through a careful curation of social networks. In Propagandistan, ministers are not judged by their actions in the real world, but by the virality of the posts they make, by the number of likes and the cacophony of comments under their selfies curated with countless filters.
In Propagandistan, the Prime Minister is more interested in seeing the graphs of the increase or decrease in the number of likes than the (macro) economic indicators. He is very much like a statesman who said that "I only believe the statistics that I falsify with my own hand" and spent a long time coloring them. Not infrequently, the head of the government reprimands ministers not for their failures in politics, but for their inactivity on social media. It is a legacy that the ministers still do not seem to have absorbed properly: "The biggest lie is being repeated several times, it takes the status of truth"
"An hour without posting is an hour wasted," is the motto announced by the leader, while ministers and directors engage the entire administration in a vertical line to make likes and comments. Behind them comes the digital crowd inspired by the Congolese philosopher Jacques Nteka Bokolo who says that "propaganda is a plant that takes root and flourishes in the heads of those who do not think".
This small country (not even two million inhabitants), produces as many likes and comments as the 27 EU countries combined. It is a country so selfish that it consumes everything for itself.
In Propagandistan, politicians are not elected to change reality, but to embellish virtual reality.
The roads of Propagandistan are paved not with asphalt, but with songs and dances. Roads are not finished, but inspected. The construction sites work day and night, but they never run out of work. (In Propagandistan, when the road director is arrested, the news is his resignation)
In Propagandistan poverty, inequality and corruption are considered PR nuisances, and the solution (eg corruption) is not sought by changing the system, but by a beautiful post with an inspirational quote on a picturesque background. In Propagandistan, reforms are made every day, but there is no time to do any work.
The inhabitants of Propagandistan walk around, smartphone in hand, looking for signs of hope and change. They seem confused because they are occasionally reminded of a mythical place called "Reality", a place where actions matter more than posts, where change is measured in people's well-being and not in accumulated likes.
However, in Propagandistan, where its old revivalists used to say that "the sun rises from the west", the new revivalists of the 21st century face an existential question that lies underground like hydrogen in Bulqiza and oil in Shpirag: what if it doesn't work wifi? What if there is no internet day?
This question for the moment fades into the digital ether, leaving the eagle bracketed between the world around him and the world he sees through posts.
Welcome to Propagandistan.
Enjoy every hour of your stay. But remember, in this country, reality is an app that runs in the background, and the real currency is not money, but flattery.
PS1. Chomsky: Propaganda in democracy is the sister of violence in dictatorship
PS 2. Balzac: "You can paint a flower perfectly, but even the best painter cannot paint its fragrance"
Lini një Përgjigje