Have you ever watched how candy is made? Sweet, delicious pieces of flavored sugar destined for little fingers to unwrap. It’s an amazing amalgam of stretches and folds. First, sugar is raised to a precise temperature before it is handled and then on what are usually marble tabletops, the candy is stretched to close to its breaking point. Later it is folded in on itself and smashed together with other ingredients. Pulled, stretched, folded, smashed. Candy is the product of repetition. Of course, not all repetitions lead to sweet delicacies.
But this column isn’t about delicious candies. It’s about repetition-the repetition of fate, its inevitability and its tragic consequences. We have seen the sadness that harmful repetitions bring to our valley. It is an enormous problem whether it’s our inability to stop certain habits or dysfunctions or whether we perpetuate the mentality where we as valley people consider it “right” and just to keep each other down. Often, no one wants to see you fail more than your own people.
There are many words and phrases that people before me have used to describe repetition and its dangers. For example, many people say that “Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.” Or they might say, “The definition of madness is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.”
Even the ancients wrote about it and created what is still today perhaps the most gripping of all genres, the Greek Tragedy. The Greeks loved to write about the pain that we suffer when attempting to escape our own fate. It is as if we mean to tell the gods, “I know better. I can chart my own path!” But in the end, man cannot escape his fate.
But what all of these fancy sayings fail to recognize is that we already have a way of saying it here in the Valley. We use it every day, especially on Wednesdays when the paper comes out: “no me digas! Otra vez?” These are usually followed by a point of “pero como?” It is as if we didn’t already know what to expect.
But these “sayings” makes it sound like repetition is political. And this article isn’t about repetition or politics. It is really about George Orwell’s book called Animal Farm. I recently picked it up again and re-read a few passages. The truths in that book come rushing back and remain as relevant today as they were in 1945 when it was written.
In the book, Orwell creates a fictitious story about a group of animals who band together to overthrow their human farmer. They hope to create a society where all animals are free and live in harmony. It is quite the utopian valley, or I should say village. As all good intentions end, however, this rebellion eventually takes the form of a dictatorship led by, you guessed it, a Pig named Napoleon.
The scheme was really first thought up by his father. And his brother Squealer makes it happen. But Napoleon takes the credit and lies, cheats and fights his way to the top. It is not unlike many power struggles in real life. Napoleon is even successful in purging his own brother from the Farm. He enlists the help of the local sheep (not to be confused with the local citizenry) who begin chanting “four legs good, two legs bad.”
Orwell understands that to win a majority, you must use and reuse the same war cries that any politician (or more appropriately-Napoleon) would use, war cries such as: we will do what is best for our farm. Who can argue with that? Napoleon even lies about selling Boxer, the beloved horse who is badly injured during one of the insurrections, to the glue factory only to use the proceeds to buy whiskey for his band of loyal politicos. Whops! I mean animals. This is about Animal Farm not Valley life.
The point that Orwell either wishes to make or I have assumed he has made (with a smattering of experience) is that in order to create a pig like Napoleon and a successful band of followers, one must only turn the farm against itself. And to do so a person will use subterfuge, lies, and whatever it takes to win. The message is “keep your supporters happy with whiskey, promise of power, or whatever means necessary,” but keep them content. And when one animal fails you, grab another pig from the corral. Then you use the branded lipstick that’s kept you united for generations, slap it on him, and voilà. There you have it. The next generation of generals, farm animal politicos and power seekers are ready to go. And make no mistake…you keep them happy, and they will be more than honored to lie and cheat right along with you. Beware what the wolf in sheep’s clothing tells you.
But this article isn’t about Animal Farm, it’s about the movie The Matrix-an illusory and make-believe world that tries to control our thoughts. My favorite line has little to do with this article, but I thought I’d throw it in, since this movie is really about candy and how it folds over and over again (not true). In the movie, Agent Smith who is the epitome of control, tries to tell the hero, Neo, what the Matrix is. In a nutshell, he says it’s a complicated system designed to control humans. “Have you ever stood and stared at it,” he asks. “Marveled at its beauty. Billions of people just living out their lives. Oblivious to its existence.”
That’s what Napoleon wants: for us to believe that we don’t care; that we can’t think for ourselves and that we are like sheep and bleat the same thing all day: “four legs good, two legs bad.” Or power-hungry folks want us to believe “they’re doing what’s best for our community.”
We’re better than that and we see you, Napoleon! I will save my repetitions for candy making. Not for the same animal farm politics that have repeated themselves over and over again. Keeping us where we are. Because we dream better and expect better. The revolt of one leader for the other for the sake of power, repeating itself ad nauseum, brings us no closer to the good life with a better education for our children, better paying jobs and better infrastructure. Stop saying you know what’s best for this farm with your army of pigs. This farm deserves better. .
And we see through your Napoleonic ways!
Javier Sánchez is the former mayor of the City of Española, NM, and the co-owner of La Cocina New Mexican Restaurant.