Trump: The Kidnapping by the Chubby Kid
There is a type of violence that does not wear a uniform, does not carry a flag, and does not ask for permission. It is the violence of the bully in the schoolyard, the one who hits not because he needs to, but because he can. And when this bully is a State, the schoolyard is the world.
In the midst of the open veins of Latin America, another bleeding wound is exposed: the kidnapping of Nicolás Maduro by the claws of the United States armed forces, an act of modern piracy disguised as justice. Maduro, this dictator swollen with power, this despicable man who crushes his people with iron fists and empty promises, does not deserve personal defense, but international law, elementary common sense, and the most basic morality cry out against this barbarism.
Who authorizes the USA to invade sovereign homes, drag leaders like trophies, and judge the world in their New York courts? Neither the laws of nations, nor the whisper of human conscience, nor the divine commandment that forbids theft and murder. This is the collapse of civilization, a slap in the face of humanity.
The recent episode involving the kidnapping of an opponent—a kidnapping, let us call things by their names, because euphemisms are the accomplices of cowardice—is not an isolated act. It is a symptom. It is the symptom of an international order that is unlearning the meaning of rules.
When a government decides that it can cross borders, ignore sovereignties, and snatch a human being as if picking an apple from a neighbor's tree, what it is saying is simple: the law is a fiction for the weak. For the strong, there is only will.
And who is the strong one here? The narrative tries to paint a portrait of strategic necessity, of national security, of combating threats. But the portrait that emerges is different. It is the portrait of a chubby kid, spoiled by power, who cannot stand being contradicted. A kid who, having the biggest stick in the yard, decides that any disagreement is an offense punishable by abduction.
The problem with the chubby kid is not just his strength. It is his absolute lack of proportion. He does not understand that power, without restraint, is just tyranny with a different name. He believes that the world is an extension of his backyard, and that the people in it are his toys.
And what does the rest of the schoolyard do? They watch. Some applaud, hoping to win the bully's favor. Others look away, hoping not to be the next target. And a few, very few, dare to point out the obvious: that a kidnapping is a kidnapping, whether done by a cartel or by a capital that displeases the "strong kid".
And when the whole school gets used to seeing the bully hit, the whole school learns to hit—or to bring a knife so as not to get hit.
In the end, civilization does not fall with a crash. It falls with a habit.