“If a case is confirmed in the building, you will be responsible!” It is the message that Mina, a Dourdan nurse in France, who works front-line with Covid-19 patients, found on the windshield of her car. It was signed in the name of “the neighborhood”. The accumulated tension overwhelmed her and she began to cry right there, according to Le Parisien.
At El Poblenou in Barcelona they were less “diplomatic”. A gynecologist found painted directly on her car the words “contagious rat”, so there was no doubt that she was not welcome in the building. Silvana was in a state of shock at that gross and tremendous humiliation, according to El Mundo.
Their cases are not isolated. At Lariboisière Hospital, north of Paris, they have had to hire bodyguards to escort medical personnel to their cars or the entrance of the subway because they are undergoing physical attacks, as reported by L’Express.
Suddenly, the heroes that a part of the country effusively applauds from their balconies recognizing their difficult work have also become the “plague-carriers” that few want to have by their side and, if possible, would like to mark with a scarlet letter on the forehead.
And that cannot but generate a colossal shame. A colossal rage too. And finally, a tremendous desolation.
When the unthinkable takes shape
The coronavirus has taken us by surprise. Our world has been turned upside down. It has put our emotions in a mixer and has returned them mixed and confused. To the waves of fear and panic are added waves of hope and strength followed by phases of sadness and anguish.
However, there is no reason, excuse or possible pretext to attack those who protect us, save our lives – risking their own – or expose themselves every day to ensure the minimum services we need.
Fear, in none of its forms, is a sufficient pretext for these attacks. Absence of empathy, abysmal selfishness and ignorance, yes. Because, as Albert Camus wrote, “Stupidity always insists”. And it is reluctant to listen to reasons since its banner has always been thoughtless.
Hannah Arendt, a philosopher who had to flee Nazi Germany, was familiar with this phenomenon at its best. She warned us that “The majority were neither perverted nor sadistic, but were and continue to be terrifyingly and orrifyingly normal”. What led them to become criminals was “Only pure and simple thoughtlessness. A curious, and truly authentic, inability to think. “
Arendt’s warning fell on deaf ears because her words were so much more terrifying than the Nazis’ own atrocities as they confronts us with a terrible truth: the inability to stop to reflect on the consequences of our actions or to put ourselves in place of the other is what can take away our humanity and make us commit despicable actions.
It is the tendency to follow slogans without reflection, such as putting a sign with smiling rainbows on the door of our house and the message #stayhome while we order – quietly, unnecessarily and unconsciously – a pizza to be delivered in person.
It is the tendency to continue believing that we are the navel of the world and that the rest of mortals must adapt to our needs. To want to cling to a security that does not exist. And to get angry, like small children, with the one who reminds us that we are vulnerable, that disease and death may be just around the corner.
It is the tendency to look for culprits who can touch, hear and, if possible, also attack – if the time comes. It is the tendency to slip through the “crust of civilization”, as the journalist Timothy Garton described it, before the slightest social shock. Losing not only the cardinal points that govern social relations but also the values that distinguish humanity.
The rejection that hurts the most
Graffiti, posters and eviction threats for fear of contagion are, of course, considered hate crimes. And as such, they are liable to be denounced, persecuted, condemned and punished. But the most terrible thing for those who suffer this type of harassment is that what until a few days ago was unthinkable and incomprehensible has taken shape and in some places threatens to normalize.
The terrible thing is that those people who are risking their own lives, most not for money but for conscience and responsibility, are being hurted at the moment when they are most vulnerable. These people have been relegated, separated and rejected by those who until recently were part of their circles of trust. They have been rejected for doing their duty. For helping. For saving lives.
And that first generates an enormous confusion and then infinite anger. It generates sadness. Makes you want to throw in the towel. It makes you wonder who exactly you’re fighting for. And above all, if all that sacrifice is worth it.
Because medical personnel are not made up of heroes with bulletproof armor. They are made up of people who perform heroic acts. But those people also suffer from humiliation and contempt. Because right now they are extremely vulnerable psychologically.
Therefore, it is important that all these people feel sheltered by the other part of the society. That part that, although it is also afraid, knows how to control it to support the weakest. That part that is also tired, but it draws strength to give a smile. Although they live in uncertainty, like everyone else, they know how to transmit security. That part that thinks. That values. That it does not adhere to short-lived slogans, but seeks a way to contribute its grain of sand.
And the grain of sand that corresponds to us to contribute at this moment consists in supporting all those who are supporting us. Unconditionally. Making a barrier against ignorance. Putting the trip to selfishness. And nurturing empathy.
Because if this crisis has taught us anything, it is that a virus can be scary, but human reactions can make a difference. And from this situation, as Juan Rulfo wrote, “We save ourselves together or sank separately”. In case someone didn’t understand.