The sanctification of the guerrilla and murderer Mujica

As soon as José "Pepe" Mujica's death was confirmed, Uruguay's main political leaders, from left to center, began an Olympic competition of posthumous praises. The former president, former senator, former Tupamaro leader, was bid farewell with words that elevated him to the pantheon of national heroes. Thus, among televised tears, protocol tweets, and flower wreaths well-watered by public funds, the funeral was held not only for a man but for the last glimpse of political honesty.

The ruling class surrendered to a social-democratic consensus as forced as it was predictable. Mujica, who in his youth robbed banks and kidnapped diplomats in the name of revolution, became a pop icon. Not for his ideas, nor for his policies, but for his aura of "wise man of the farm" and his chewed-up phrases of cheap philosophy.

More about Mujica's origins: the story that is attempted to be forgotten

Institutionalized hypocrisy: that was the true protagonist of the national wake. From the nationalists who once accused him of undermining democracy, to the centrists who never shared either his history or his vision of the country, all paraded before the coffin to pronounce the politically correct: that Mujica was a man of dialogue, a symbol of reconciliation, an austere and endearing figure.

But behind the veil of funeral respect, uncomfortable questions remain unsolved. How does a country that prides itself on its democratic institutionality digest bidding farewell with honors to a former guerrilla? Where did the critical judgment go toward a character who, although recycled as the nation's grandfather, was a participant in a violent stage of our history?

Meanwhile: privilege didn't die with Mujica

Mujica's death, more than a closing of a cycle, exposes the inability of the Uruguayan political system to maintain firm stances without falling into postmodern condescension. In the new progressive liturgy, all sins are washed away with a moderate speech and a couple of selfies in jerseys without ties.

Thus, while Mujica's figure mummifies in bronze and selective memory, Uruguay bids farewell to the man—and buries with him what little remained of genuine debate about his legacy.

You might also be interested in: insecurity and the model that no one dares to mention