ACLIM or Pol Pot's ark?

Paulo Vilanculo"

Pol Pot, whose real name was Saloth Sar (1925–1998), was the Cambodian dictator who led the Khmer Rouge, a radical communist movement that destroyed the Cambodian social fabric between 1975 and 1979. During his time in power, he established a totalitarian regime inspired by a utopian agrarian vision: he wanted to transform Cambodia into a "pure" rural society, without social classes, money, formal education, and external influences. Pol Pot ruled through devastation, destroying the foundations of collective survival. In other words, Pol Pot became a symbol of a form of government based on the systematic destruction of life and institutions. Under his rule, intellectuals, professionals, and even those who wore "glasses" (those who could see and dare to denounce) were seen as enemies of the "new order" and targeted for summary execution. Pol Pot's regime fell after the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia. The ACLIM representative's speech, stating that the opposition would only govern if Jesus Christ were resurrected, symbolizes a metaphor for an instrument of symbolic violence with effects. On the one hand, it generates collective psychological terror, suffocating the democratic spirit. On the other, it incubates political disorder, because by excluding and humiliating part of society, it paves the way for social explosions outside the institutional framework. The rhetoric translates into the idea of ​​an entity that, instead of guaranteeing a future, cultivates ruin; instead of generating trust, it spreads fear and discredit; instead of being a symbol of the liberating flag, it transforms into an "ark of destruction," where private interests crush the common good.

In Mozambique, politics has increasingly become a fertile ground for the construction of grotesque metaphors and shocking rhetoric. The recent speech by the ACLIM representative, who stated that the opposition would only govern if Jesus Christ were resurrected and returned to his homeland, reveals much about the naive logic of a dominant power in the country. This caricatured phrase, which seems like a happy bulwark, carries with it a profound political content: a denial of democratic alternation and the naturalization of the perpetuation of the ruling party. The rhetoric is not innocent, as it conveys a discourse imbued with arrogance, exclusion, and a conception of power as a lifelong and perpetual possession, as if governing were a divine inheritance rather than a democratic alternation.

A ressurreição de Cristo, símbolo maior de esperança de renovação, que devia simbizar o anúncio do futuro melhor, é invertida em voz para negar a possibilidade de mudança! Mais do que simples arrogância, trata-se da expressão de uma visão irónicasta do Estado, onde governar não é resultado de vontade popular, mas um privilégio transformado em direito vitalício. A ACLIM, em vez de representar a possibilidade de redenção política e social, é transformada em piada política para assegurar a eternização do presente. Na boca de quem devia cultivar a democracia, a figura de Cristo surge não como promessa de renovação, mas como senha da impossibilidade. Na ironia das ironias, aquele que simboliza a vida, a esperança e a vitória sobre a morte, é convocado para negar a mudança.

Quando neste texto se invoca o regime cambojano Pol Pot da autodestruição, reduziu o seu povo à submissão em nome da utopia de uma elite, a metáfora recai na retórica do discurso do ACLIM pretende reduzir os moçambicanos à condição de espectadores de um jogo político de resultado previamente conhecido. Tal como o ditador cambojano, que sacrificou milhões em nome de uma utopia perversa, reduziu a sua nação a cinzas em nome de uma pureza impossível, o discurso de imortalidade política sacrifica e eternização do poder sacrifica o futuro de um povo em nome da manutenção de privilégios de uns poucos.

O discurso da ACLIM, não apenas desacredita a oposição, mas reduz a democracia a uma farsa, onde o único protagonistas concebível e indomável é eternizado. Ouvir declarações que reduzem a oposição a uma impossibilidade milagrosa é uma clara violação do espírito republicano democrático. De um lado, arca da destruição de uma, onde a “ressurreição” é necessária, a democracia que é reduzida a um vazio de valores, de ética, de justiça é ridicularizada como milagre impossível. Se Cristo é a promessa de renovação e Pol Pot simboliza o aniquilamento sistemático da esperança, Moçambique vive preso entre essas duas metáforas. Entre Cristo e Pol Pot, Moçambique vive aprisionado num dilema simbólico. De um lado, a promessa de ressurreição é ridicularizada como fantasia inalcançável; do outro, a gestão destrutiva é naturalizada como destino inevitável.

By stating that the opposition will only govern if Christ is resurrected, ACLIM may convey the idea that any attempt at change is dangerous, a way of imposing an order of systematic exclusion, a sublime psychological assault designed to instill fear in the opposition and the people. The irony of this discourse may be that it can generate anger, indignation, and backlash. This could mean inciting political disorder and sowing future instability, or, in other words, as cynicism grows, there is a risk that social sectors will seek alternative protests outside the democratic space. ACLIM's statement could even be interpreted within a logic of psychological terrorism, indirectly inciting disorder and popular-political violence. But the complicit silence of those who should act and intervene against statements that threaten the tranquility and pacification of the country is deafening.

If, historically, Pol Pot's regime symbolized the annihilation of a people's hope in the name of ideological blindness, ACLIM's discourse projects the metaphor of "Pol Pot's ark" onto the politics of a system that denies alternatives and condemns the country to navigate a path without a future. ACLIM carries the weight of being held hostage by its elites. Instead of modernizing, it regresses; instead of opening horizons, it closes paths. Instead of guaranteeing security, it instills fear, pride, and shame. The central position, therefore, is not merely the infelicity of a phrase that calls for the crystallization of a political model that does not admit renewal. The radicalization that a change in government will only be possible through an impossible miracle, then critical citizens will tend to consider only extraordinary means—protests, boycotts, and revolts—as paths that can open space for change. In a country whose Constitution enshrines multiparty democracy, this discourse fuels the perception that power will never be contested peacefully.

The big question is whether Mozambicans will accept continuing this journey led by false helmsmen, or whether they will find the strength to reclaim true resurrection, the spirit of democracy, and the dignity of their citizens. Because if it depends on those who currently speak in the name of power, the ark will continue to drift, subject to the annihilation of change, which will forever be relegated to the realm of the impossible. As a result, Mozambique will forever be a country suspended between a rock and a hard place: without a redemptive ordeal and without a future harvest.

The most serious issue is that such discourses do not arise in isolation; they are part of a broader political narrative that has consolidated in recent years, where criticism is devalued, opposition is marginalized, and popular demonstrations are repressed. By naturalizing the impossibility of change, power reinforces the idea that the State is a monopoly and not a pluralistic space. If this process is not rescued, we will remain trapped in the dilemma between the "ark of destruction" and the impossible promise of "resurrection," while national hope is consumed by cynicism and exclusion.

It's not just an inability to imagine alternatives; it's the deliberate construction of a narrative that condemns the nation to a dead-end, where the elites steer the "ark" and the people remain as forced passengers. The people, however, know they don't need to wait for miracles to reclaim dignity. If they continue to fall asleep lulled by grotesque speeches, Pol Pot's ark will continue adrift, and the resurrection of the political Christ will always be postponed to a Sunday that never arrives. The challenge lies in understanding and accepting that Mozambique doesn't need miracles or messianic resurrections to change course. What it needs is real democracy, solid institutions, and respect for the will of the people.

2025/12/3