PNA

Thirty years of wars and embargoes.

For thirty years you have waged wars. You call them missions, operations, interventions, stabilisation. You wage them without mandate, without a vote, without ever asking permission of the peoples you claim to represent. Illegal at their origin, legitimised only afterwards, when the rubble had already gone cold.

For thirty years you have imposed embargoes. You call them sanctions, restrictive measures, targeted pressure. They strike the peoples, not the powerful. They starve the innocent and leave the palaces untouched.

And in every war, in every embargo, there is always someone who profits. Intermediaries, brokers, shell companies, contracts nobody reads, supplies nobody checks, exemptions granted to those who know the right door. The blood is public, the profit is private. This is not a side effect of war. It is its business model.

The machine is broken.

For thirty years you had a single real weapon: the narrative. Enemies to manufacture, emergencies to invent, wars to sell as human rights. The propaganda machine worked for as long as people could not verify.

Now that machine is broken. We did not break it. You wore it out yourselves, repeating it one time too many, calling rearmament peace and escalation security. Today your words no longer convince even those who speak them. The news broadcasts remain; the listening does not.

Your problem is not dissent. It is that nobody believes you any more.

Europe was trust. You spent it.

Europe was not born of a trade treaty. It was born of a pact of trust between peoples who had destroyed one another and had sworn never to do it again. That trust was the real capital, the only kind that cannot be printed or refinanced.

You burned it.

The institutions that were meant to guarantee it have betrayed. They did not err: they chose. They chose interests over populations, markets over citizens, war over the mandate that had created them. Those who were to defend the interest of the peoples and defended something else did not commit a political mistake.

They committed the gravest of crimes: the betrayal of those who had no other protection.

And the others stay silent. Whoever stays silent while a continent is carried to the fire is not neutral. They are part of it.