Mirror, mirror, who is the greatest democrat in this kingdom of narcos?

2026-05-26 09:51:00, Opinione Ardi Stefa

And the mirror, tired of the lies that were blown onto its glass every day, no longer needed to even answer this rhetorical question.

All those who dared to say "I want to run" were declared ineligible. Some immediately turned into traitors, sold out, captured by crime, by the enemy, by the devil himself. In this grotesque theater, the candidate had no opponents; there were only enemies to politically eliminate.

And so it remained alone. A "race" with one runner. A referendum with one name. A democracy where the ballot box mattered more than the vote itself.

And yet he was afraid that he would come out second. As it turned out...

The irony doesn't end here.

Although it would have been possible to win even if a single militant had thrown the ball into the box, secret rooms, sealed boxes, and security procedures were required as if the fate of the planet were being decided. It seemed as if millions of people were waiting outside the headquarters to overthrow the dictator with a ballot.

Then came the climax of the comedy: the “most democratic” elections. Then the “historic referendum.”

When the time was pushed back another hour, I thought maybe the influx was so great that the commissioners would have to count the votes for a week. Maybe they should have brought in NASA counters to handle the avalanche of voters.

But no.

The results came in in less than 30 minutes. So fast that it seemed as if the votes had already been counted.

And then that melodramatic moment: the lip trembling with emotion, the voice trying to seem moved by the “trust of the democrats.” An actor playing the role of the man voted by the people, while the audience clearly saw that he had declared himself the winner in a mirror where only his face was visible.

He even said that the regime, his political opponent, and his friends had lost sleep.

In fact, sleep is usually disrupted for those who are afraid of racing. Not for those who race alone.

When even the "sister" parties don't congratulate him, he says that "I didn't congratulate them either." A childish pride, like that student who boasts that no one greeted him in class because he doesn't greet others either.

But when his political opponent congratulated him... he fell silent. There, the mirror had nothing more to say.

And after the militants cheered, after the referendum was announced, after an unopposed vote was sold as a historic triumph, he cut off the arms of his own followers: "Another 13 years in opposition."

A normal leader would promise victory. This one promised biological resistance until the age of 95, comparing himself to a "nameless comrade" who became prime minister at the age of 95.

And that's where the tragedy comes in. There are no longer parties fighting for the future. There are courtyards where a man talks to his mirror and the crowd applauds the reflection.

"Oh, time, oh, mores!"

How sad is the time when even defeat is sold as victory, loneliness as a referendum and reconfirmation, fear of competition as democracy./ CNA