So, Mr. Trump you think you have won. You probably are secure in your smug racist certitude that by winning an election, your vision of the world has also been sanctified, approved, valorized. Think again Mr. Trump. You might have won a small skirmish, a small battle, but you neither have the wisdom, nor the compassion and courage to be a real leader: moral cowards do not make great leaders, and you are the poster boy for moral and ethical cowardice. All your life you have avoided public responsibility and used an army of lawyers to get away with things. This lifetime of exploiting others with this current win, must make you feel superhuman, invulnerable, sure of your own importance to the world. That is the problem with you filthy rich of the world: you think the world cannot exist without you; you think we, the billions who toil everyday, owe you something. No, Mr. Trump we the people of the world do not owe anything to the morally bankrupt cowards like you.
We the people of the world produce value! People like you use the law, the corrupt governments, and the corporations to exploit our labor, to rob our tomorrows, for your todays. But in the end, it’s people like you who are a drain on the resources of the world. We can exist without you, for we have experience of living on the edge, surviving with the bare essentials, of sharing the little we have with others. It is you, the bloated mega rich of the world, who will die of starvation if we walked out of your lives.
Yes, your prophetess (Ayan Rand) had it wrong: The rich will never be able to starve out the multitude, for the multitude has the capacity, if pushed that far, to tear the global economic elite into pieces. If you had cared to look around, just to the South of your own continent, you would have known this truth: In the small valleys of South America, in the barrios, mountains, and small collectives, even in Mexico, a country you despise, people are creating new and humane ways of living, of sharing this planet. Your message, your vision, your words, Mr. Trump, do not announce the dawn of a new era, but rather are the last sighs of a dead and diseased philosophy. You, Mr. Trump, are no prophet, no leader: You are just an empty shell that may bring us the sound of the ocean when close to our ears, but cannot contain the ocean. We are the ocean, and you will hear us roar!
So, yes we lost a few days ago, but you cannot disappear us, you cannot write us out of history: we have been here, we are here, and we will be here tomorrow: We will be here to challenge your every racist insinuation, your every stupidity. And if you and your followers think that you will make us cower in fear in our private homes, then you know nothing of our passion and our courage!