The ability of language to portray our greatness, miseries and contradictions will never cease to surprise us. Our competitive gene has led us to praise the first, the one who breaks the finish line or treads unknown terrain. The ‘primus inter pares’ is the aristocratic anointing of the leader among equals – another of our brilliant paradoxes; The Greek equivalent of it is the ‘protos’, with the beautiful meaning that links Hellenic theater with celluloid, since the protagonist is nothing more than the one who leads the catharsis for us, the spectators.
However, in language revolts, and despite having the same root, first is not the same as primary. As if it were a drift of the continents, what at first was a powerful identification, over time has acquired derogatory overtones, pointing to the growing sophistication of the secondary and, especially the tertiary, pyramidal projection associated with the slipstream of civilization and progress. The countryside is the archetype of the primary sector, the strategic reservoir of our own survival, but also the board where revolutionary or retrograde iconographies were settled. Among the first, the obvious link between agriculture and the anarcho-syndicalist movement arises, with so much historical roots in Andalusia. But it has also been the fiefdom of reactionary uprisings, inspired by the creed of primality and tradition. Therein lies, to a large extent, the germ of the Vendée wars in France, which unsuccessfully tried to stop the triumph of the Revolution; or that essence of hay and farmhouse that always tried to maintain the ideology of Carlism.
The hypocritical stoning of developmentalism was based on the massive migration from the countryside to the city. We empathize with agricultural work because of its primitive rather than primary nature; for associating them with the naturalness of a dairy farm and other clichés that dismantle us urbanites, incapable of following those rhythms beyond the childish pedagogy of a farm school.
Farmers have expressed their discontent following the French lead, which is much more inclined to challenge European institutions. José Bové already did it almost a quarter of a century ago, leading his crusade against McDonald’s in the diapers of anti-globalization; compatible with that of bursting the merchandise of Spanish trucks, almost as old as the black thread. Now the “and you, more” has been preached, always endorsing unfair competition on the outsider; and shaking the Commission, taking advantage of the fact that there are European elections in June and weakening ecological technicalities that, overnight, have ceased to have as much substance – perhaps in a somewhat irresponsible manner.
The level of empathy towards the countryside is great, much greater than other groups that also put forward their demands – driving away hunger is the first circle of sovereignty. However, it can spill out like a milk jug if its demands are oversized at the cost of strangling the national economy. He cannot consider enclosing the Cortes or the Moncloa with tractors as if Hannibal were taking his elephants to Rome. Here, autarky has its own connotations, linked to Judeo-Masonic conspiracies and ration cards. And, no matter how much it is reviled, the Common Market has been the lifeline of this comeback in prosperity of the last four decades. This is fully compatible with greater homologation requirements that result in the quality of the products and the peace of mind of the consumer.
That thing about the yellow tractor once wanted to be a kind of anthem of rural pride, with the attractive appearance of the festivals as an evocative meeting point. Topics are deactivated in understanding, beginning by eradicating negative connotations. Primaries, then, a lot of honor.
** Degree in Law. Graduated in Environmental Sciences. Writer