Curiosidade do dia

Ler sobre a realidade inglesa é tão triste. Como é que um país que dominou o mundo agora padece de tantos e tantos males que nos habituamos a ver em Portugal, só que nos ultrapassou de longe e está pior do que nós?

A coluna semanal sobre política britânica na revista The Economist, Bagehot, esta semana tem o título de "The idolatry of victimhood":

"There is no better summary of the increasingly dominant role victims play in British politics. Since the start of 2020 "victims" have been mentioned in Parliament 16,515 times, more than "Brexit" (10,797 times), "welfare" (9,978), "immigration" (8,644), "pensioners" (3,438) and "voters" (2,540). [Moi ici: O estatuto da vítima domina a política britânica contemporânea] It was not always like this. Once, the British state cared little about the victims of its failures.

...

Only in the late 1990s and 2000s did this attitude begin to shift. Victims could fight back. The Human Rights Act made it simpler to challenge government failure. And so began the ascent of the victim in political life.

Now, victims dominate. A victims' commissioner (the current one a victim herself) was created in 2010. Inquiries, once a rarity, became an instinctive reaction to any government mistake. Laws named after victims pass Parliament with ease, dealing with everything from mould in flats to terrorism. [Moi ici: As vítimas tornaram-se actores políticos centrais]

...

Victims petrify politicians. They are apex stakeholders. Normal rules for decisions - risk, cost, proportionality - are thrown away when they are involved. What if a headline suggests ministers snubbed victims? Write the cheque. Civil servants, always cautious, become cowards. Campaigners know this. The unedifying spectacle of a grieving parent wheeled in front of cameras to push a particular policy, whether limits on smartphones or ninja swords, has become a political trump card.

...

In this way British politics becomes an autocracy of lived experience, in which politicians advise and victims decide. For a politician as vapid as Sir Keir oras cynical as Mr Farage perhaps this is no bad thing. A world in which rape victims are compelled to argue with each other over the future of a government minister, cheered on by elected politicians, is a depressing one. But it is the one Britain inhabits. It is a final dereliction of duty to people the state has already failed once and now does again."

É fácil olhar para Inglaterra e pensar que é um fenómeno distante — mas será mesmo?

Também entre nós, a emoção tem entrado pela porta grande da política. Tragédias transformam-se em leis com nome próprio. A indignação pública dita o ritmo da legislação, enquanto o tempo para compreender, ponderar e corrigir fica para depois.

Tudo começa na empatia — e é legítimo que assim seja. O problema é quando a compaixão substitui o critério e o debate se reduz a quem sente mais, não a quem pensa melhor.

Em Portugal, os exemplos acumulam-se: das leis apressadas que nascem de crimes mediáticos às medidas imediatistas após desastres colectivos, é cada vez mais difícil distinguir entre governar e reagir. 

Talvez seja hora de perguntarmos: quando o Estado legisla com o coração, quem é que fica encarregado de usar a cabeça?