Humanity - in the Constitution

What if the citizen of IK was helped by the state instead of people from social networks, what if he didn't get the apartment as a mercy of His Majesty the Mayor, but as his human and civil right? What, in short, if humanity, empathy and solidarity were established as an organized system?

That's how Christmas movies begin. There is always some persistent human misfortune, for example a man who can barely move on the tram with the help of a cane, let alone pushing a stroller with a three-year-old son in front of him. While pushing him like that, he gets stuck and stumbles, the little boy wakes up in the stroller and complains to his father that he is hungry, and the latter answers him half-quietly, so that the people in the tram don't hear, that his father collected plastic bottles for just one pastry, and that he will already manage somehow.

So, I said, family Christmas movies begin. There will be a tram full of people minding their own business, and among them will be a sick father with a small hungry child. And there will be an angel, some student of the Faculty of Textile Technology - let's say Kristina Paić, who for understandable reasons is the only one in the whole story who deserves to be mentioned by name - who will nevertheless hear their quiet conversation and be deeply shaken, get off the tram and to stop a man to listen to his story, to hear that he has multiple sclerosis, two small children, an unemployed wife and a tenant, and to launch an action to help the unfortunate family through social networks.

That's how Christmas feelgood movies start, and that's how they end. The case of the citizen IK, who in the past days - as it is usually said in situations like this - united Croatia, ended with the fact that the rented apartment in Kustošija was soon filled with food, clothes and children's toys, hundreds of people sent money and came every day with household items, a baker from Dugav offered his family free bread and pastries, Dinamo players also brought their gifts, and then, clearly, the mayor of Zagreb personally appeared, to give them the keys at the end of the fairy tale, with violins in the off a city apartment with a ramp for the disabled, in a new building in Sopnica Jelkovec, where the son and daughter of a citizen of IK were immediately enrolled in kindergarten and school by the grace of the Caliph of Zagreb.

Croatia - as it is customary to say in situations like this - showed a big heart, as every time there was a situation like this: when some passer-by - some kind of student, or journalist, or singer, or corporate communications manager, whatever - is somewhere on the edge of our flat world, he discovered a small man without a roof over his head, a poor girl with an incurable disease, a family that freezes without electricity, one of the harsh misfortunes that live among us and unite the nation from time to time, so unknown Croats send money, clothes and food, and famous people answer humanitarian phones and play at charity concerts, while the counter on television, like a precise electrocardiogram, shows in real time how many thousands and millions of kunas our heart is big. There has never been a humanitarian action that failed, it was started by a student or the marketing of a multinational media corporation. Croats are happy to help and give, regardless of whether it is a citizen with multiple sclerosis, poor children without Christmas presents, flood victims or a girl whose only salvation is an expensive operation in Houston, and it seems that in Croatia today this is actually the only way to groups or individuals receive any help at all.

I am not saying that this revolutionary system of social protection for the poor, sick, infirm and unfortunate is good, but it has some shortcomings.

If, for example, you are waiting for an operation in the corridor of a dilapidated hospital without beds, instruments, medicines and cooling devices, in the Republic of Croatia, your only chance is that somehow by the Holy Spirit some popular singer or television presenter will fall ill, so that, moved by her own experience, she will start a a large humanitarian campaign for the construction of a modern new hospital suit, with a magnificent finale in the Zagreb Arena, where the biggest stars of Croatian pop music will play, and the president of the Bishops' Conference and the president of the Republic will answer the donor phone. If you have multiple sclerosis, two small children, an unemployed wife and a tenant hole, in the Republic of Croatia your only chance is to be seen by Kristina Paić on the street, by the dumpster or in the tram.

At this moment - I wouldn't really want to disturb the sweet feeling of human fulfillment for the citizens and mayors - as many as eight hundred and twenty thousand Croats live below the risk of poverty, more than forty thousand children are hungry, and from multiple sclerosis - are we talking about that terrible disease - six thousand Croatian men and women are sick, four-fifths of whom, thanks to the callous public health bureaucracy, cannot receive medicine and start therapy in time. These are tens of thousands of desperate citizens who, well, were not lucky enough to run into a student with a surplus of good will and empathy on the tram: there are many more poor, hungry, sick and unhappy people in Croatia than a student at the Faculty of Textile Technology in Zagreb.

What, however, if they put that famous Croatian big heart in the Constitution and laws? So what if - I know, I'm talking nonsense, but I'm thinking out loud and speaking by heart - citizens with multiple sclerosis, two small children, an unemployed wife and a tenant hole were listened to by someone trained, professional and paid instead of Kristina Paić? What if the citizen of IK was helped by the state instead of people from social networks, what if he didn't get the apartment as a mercy of His Majesty the Mayor, but as his human and civil right?

What, in short, if humanity, empathy and solidarity were established as an organized system?

Well, that can't be done. That's socialism. So Marxism. So communism. So Yugoslavia. So Greater Serbia.

And that's not why, as that great Croatian thinker said, "We wore bloody underpants on Velebit".

For a country with such a big heart, Croatia, in fact, has a rather small brain: there is not one among the four million Croats, at least not one outside of statistical human error, who would condemn the action to help a sick citizen of IK and his children, there is probably not one outside of that error who would have refused to give them some kind of small, even symbolic help, if it were not within the scope of his laziness and if Kristina Paić had time to visit all the doors in the Republic of Croatia, and yet at the very thought that a citizen of IK could have a dignified life regulated by the system of the welfare state, not the state lottery - in which the first of six thousand patients with multiple sclerosis, found by student Kristina Paić, will receive a city apartment with a ramp for the disabled - Croatia is paralyzed by panic fear of self-governing socialism and Yugoslav integration.

Does Croatia know, damn it, what is the name of a country in which those who can and have are singled out for those who can't and are not, in which six hundred nine hundred and ninety-nine citizens are singled out so that the seven hundred, with multiple sclerosis, can go to therapy, and his little ones on free vacations to children's resorts at sea - a society of systemic solidarity in which there are such incomprehensible institutes as "aid for the underdeveloped" or "mutual aid fund". For some reason, such an Arcadian wonderland - precisely a Christian one, if you really insist - is never Sweden or Denmark, but always and without exception Yugoslavia. It's not Yugoslavian socialism for Croats, when every month they cheerfully set aside a quarter of their salary instead of the solidarity system for tens of thousands of officials of the giant state administration - and it's not because half of them work there, and the other half are looking to get stuck - but that's why they while those with a big heart and a small brain persistently believe that they will never be so hungry as to meet Kristina Paić, the blackest socialism would be if a dignified life for the citizen of IC was made possible by a state with a big heart, and that luxurious Dalmatian hotel for the white world's Skorojevics was again what it was for built, therefore a summer resort for his children.

In fact, there are no Christmas movies in Black Socialism.

(rs.n1info.com)