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akimbergkvist · 1 year ago

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The punch and the car.// Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Modern Au! Jacaerys Strong never liked the girl his mother adopted, and made his life's mission to let her know that. But years past and reader can't handle that much hate from someone as intense as him. Baela and Rhaena have an idea.

TW: smut and angst a bit of fluff! P in v, masturbation (female receiving), unprotected sex. Someone gets a punch.

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As you had told her, the din of the overly loud music drilled into your brain. But your friend Rhaena's enthusiasm to see you and Baela out of your routine made up for it all. It was overwhelmingly crowded, but even so, her beautiful white hair made her stand out from the crowd and she ran to give you a hug.

"I can't believe you came, I thought you said yes to shut me up," said the girl with the sweetest smile.

"I never break a promise," Baela replied earnestly. Always with her dignity and honour.

"And I see you have convice our girl as well," she addressed you.

"Well, I'm afraid Baela threatened me if I didn't come..." that was absolutely true.

"That's how I made sure there was someone around who I liked" she justified herself.

You smiled at her, Baela had always been like a big sister to you, protective and loving in her own way. And Rhaena was also one of your favourite people, she knew how to boost your self-esteem and transmit energy. Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad.

"Baela!" someone shouted from afar.

You changed your mind after a second, from now on everything would be bad. The voice belonged to Jacaerys Velaryon, Baela and Rhaena's cousin, a.k.a 'Jace' to friends, which he always reminded you you weren't.

"What are you doing at a party, and out of rugby uniform? I don't think I've seen you in a skirt in years..." he hugged his cousin, smiling with those dimples. Then he saw you. "Oh...and you came too."

"Jacaerys..." you replied. "I'm surprised you saw me, I thought you'd be drunk as a skunk by now."

"I could hear your little voice beeping over the vibrations of the glasses as soon as you came in," he tried to mock.

"The plastic cups you mean?"

He fell silent, sighed and refocused on his cousins.

"I hope you're having a good time, cousin, I've got to go and get the playlist ready. It's my turn to DJ in a bit!"

The twins congratulated him and let him go, Jace gave them flirtatious winks before giving you a sidelong glance, as if he suspected you were going to nudge him at any moment. When he finally disappeared, Rhaena started waving to people and you and Baela decided to go get the first drink of the night.

"'I could hear your little voice beeping over the vibrations', ugh, what a clown..." you grumbled in Baela's ear.

"Oh, no. Don't start." She stopped concentrating on choosing liquor to look at you.

"Start what?"

"Complaining about Jace for anything. It's a tiring subject, both sides."

"He complains about me too?"

"Of course he does. He's always asking about you, like he's waiting to know something so he can complain even about things he hasn't lived through."

"Do you guys talk shit about me during training?"

Baela and Jacaerys were in different years at university and didn't study the same subjects (Baela studied sports, Jace politics and geography), but what they did share was a rugby training routine. Both were great players, and from a young age they had found a strong friendship through sport.

"No, I can mention to him, I don't know, things like we went shopping for panties last week and he finds a way to complain about you, asking me about you and overreacting to everything I tell him."

"Don't tell him about my panties, Baela!"

"It was an example..." lie, you had gone panty shopping, and Baela would most likely have told him about it because she doesn't think much of such things as embarrassing. "The thing is, I've had enough. I'm here today to get drunk and have fun."

She turned her attention back to her drink.

"So...you think I have an annoying voice?"

When she filled her drink twice as much, you took it for granted that her level of irritation had been overcome. You took pity on her and let her dance alone until you saw her stop to dance with a companion of hers. Perhaps the best idea was to walk around, and say hello to everyone you had even the slightest interaction with. And it seemed to work, albeit short greetings, nods or smiles, but no one stopped you to talk. As you sipped your drink, looking around the huge fraternity house, someone came up to your ear.

"Don't you have any friends here?" You were ready to smile at him, but you recognised Jace, though you didn't know whether by his voice or his smell.

"I'm looking for someone, actually," you lied. "You don't have anyone to hang out with to complain about me?"

"I'm afraid no one here cares that much about you."

That hurt. It would have been easy to reemphasize how obsessed Jace seemed to be with you, but it had crossed the fine line where you just wanted to cry because his insistence had made you want to hit him. Maybe it was true, maybe there was no one who cared about you as much. He must have noticed something in your eyes, his twisted smile disappeared, but because Jace couldn't stand to empathise with you, he decided to get angry.

"Oh, don't tell me you're going to be like that," he said.

"I don't even know why I bother to talk to you."

And you disappeared, turning your back on him. If he said anything else, you didn't hear it, the music was drilling into your head so much that you decided to finish your drink in two gulps, trying to numb your brain.

It hadn't always been like this with Jace, you just had trouble remembering the good times because the boy had made things difficult for you from moment one. From a very young age, living in the same house where Rhaenyra had lovingly taken you in, Jace had been a good boy, obedient to do his homework, help his brother Luke, and play with his cousins whenever they visited. But with you he was always different. It went from deep affection, sharing daily activities at home like drawing for hours on the same floor, dressing up and playing in the garden on summer mornings, swinging with each other in the park or enjoying cartoons lying on the sofa. But all that changed so drastically in the last years of school that you only had pictures and videos to remember those moments. When Joffrey was born, Rhaenyra began to count on you as a help around the house, while you put up with Jace pulling your hair when no one was looking, or "accidentally" throwing a ball in your direction. Nothing you said seemed right to him and all your good deeds were an attempt to lick his mother's arse. If Rhaenyra hadn't been there, you probably would have cried every night in your bed, but you held out hope for many years that he would grow up, just as Rhaenyra promised you would happen. Worst of all, you could only scold him so much, because Jace was smart. Sure, he talked back to his parents, he went out between days without warning, stories came home about girls he'd been seen hanging out with and doing things with, and he was a dick to you and didn't hide it. But he also passed all his exams with flying colours, he still had that unconditional affection for Luke, Joffrey and his cousins, he was a sportsman on a par with his mother in his youth, he helped his father Harwin whenever he needed him to fix something around the house, and he knew how to make anyone he came across smile.

Meanwhile, you had always felt like an outsider because of him, because the others had gone out of their way to include you. Harwin was a father to you, he had taught you how to drive and showed up at all your music recitals, no matter how bad they were. And Rhaenyra always told you everything. What was going on in her work, what she was talking about with Harwin, what she had discovered in Jace's drawers, or how happy she was to be promoted in her job. She had taught you how to do your hair and had more than kept her promise to your mother after she left this world. And yet, Jace made you feel like that wasn't enough, and at the same time it made you feel selfish. You couldn't just focus on pleasing one person, you couldn't please everyone. But it was frustrating that no one loved you with such passion but you had someone who apparently hated you with such passion.

All that went away from your head as the alcohol took effect, and you got so hot mixed in with the people dancing. You didn't even notice that it was Jace who had gone up to the DJ booth. That he played good music would be one of the things you could never admit to, and on top of that, he was happy to take requests from the pretty girls who piled up to ask him for tunes. You could stand it for a little while, noticing how the odd person approached you with strange intentions. And all of them you brushed aside, ignoring them almost unwillingly, so much on your own that you gave little thought to whether or not to offend others.

As you carried the cup again, an activity you had done a few times already, Jace played one of those songs that irritated you the most, and of course, there were people who agreed with you and there were many more who cheered Jace's choice. The least you deserved was to ask him for a song. So it was to the mixing desk that you headed, awkwardly, with a full glass and clearly drunk. If you pushed someone it was likely, that you cared about it was out of the question. And Jacaerys found it so strange to see you standing there that he gave you some attention, lending his ear for you to speak to him, mind you, with a scowl.

"Play my song!" you shouted at him.

"Your song?" He looked disgusted, and shook his head when you nodded.

"The one before was shit, play my song!"

"I don't take requests...especially not like the shit you want me to play." But hey, he did know what your shit song was...

"Yo do take requests, asshole, and it's a shame you had to learn a whole profession as a dj to get girls to listen to you,"

"Get the fuck out of here before you puke on the table," he snapped.

"Are you calling me a drunk?"

"Clearly you're not?" he mimicked your tone of voice and the dumb expression you must have had at the time.

"I don't talk like that, enough of--" in your anger, the drink had ended up spilling out of the glass and onto the huge, button-strewn table. Jacaerys turned away, but you, panicking and confused, tried to wipe the alcohol off the table. And then sparks flew, and for an instant you felt that intense burning sensation in your fingers. You felt yourself being pulled within seconds, but you couldn't see who it was because the whole house went out. People were soon protesting, shouting and hissing, but all you could smell was Jace so close, his hands in your arms.

The lanterns lit up the room, though the complaints didn't disperse, and loud footsteps sounded overhead.

"Who destroyed the mixer?" the voice shouted. The lights focused on him, surely more than one was recording. His tense and serious face brought you back to your senses a little. Just a little.

"Aemond, I'm so sorry about the table, it was an accident..." apologised Jace, trying not to look nervous.

"I knew accepting you into the fraternity was a mistake. Do you know how expensive the mixer is?" he approached both menacingly, though he wasn't looking at you.

"We're so sorry..." you interjected.

"Shut up and get the hell out of here," snapped the boy everyone knew as Aemond One Eye, a legend on campus and also Jacaerys' uncle.

"Hey..."

"I'll try to pay you back, okay?" Jace slyly placed you behind him, trying not to feel provoked by Aemond. "I'm telling you, it was an accident."

"You'll pay for it? I can already see you whining to your mother to spoil you again for everything you want. No, not this time, I don't want you to pay for it, I want to make it clear what a cunt you are. I don't want you to come back here anymore."

"It was me who did it-" you were interrupted again.

"I have friends here too, Aemond, don't forget that."

"That's because everyone forgets that you and your brothers are the worst scum they can come across. None of them know your brute of a father."

"Leave my father out of this," Jace was on the verge of fisticuffs.

"You're right, I suppose he's been duped by your slut of a mother--"

Then he took a fist, and everyone stifled a scream, and there was the odd brave one who dared to clap. And no, it was not Jacaerys the puncher. So drunk, angry at the interruptions, and even more provoked by the comment, no one had foreseen the blow you threw at Aemond, nor the strength you had hidden. The fact is that the boy started to bleed from the nose, and that applause had perhaps encouraged you too much.

"What the fuck?" Aemond said to you.

"We told you it was an accident. And it wasn't even Jace, you fucker. It was me...yes! Me! And the only scum I see here is you!"

The whispers and the dreads returned, and now there was no more applause. Jace tried to push you away again.

"Don't mind her, she's drunk," Jace excused you.

"I'm not going to hit a woman," Aemond wiped his nose.

"You better" you said and Jace threw you knives through his eyes.

"How brave, Jace" he then exclaimed in a higher tone. "You need a poor girl to cover your back...pitiful."

He then lowered his voice as people seemed to start talking again, commenting on what they had just seen. Someone was able to turn the light back on, and the cheering returned.

"Both of you get out of here right now. If you don't, I'll make sure no one talks to you for the rest of the college." The blond finally whispered.

As you stepped aside, Baela and Rhaena were already there to find out first hand what had happened, and Rhaena saved you from falling straight to the ground.

"Is she drunk?" She asked Jace.

"Clearly...though she's never been very smart."

"Jace, don't be cruel," Baela urged him.

"She needs to throw up, and I'd rather she do it here than in the car," Rhaena looked at her cousin ruefully, you trying to regain the mobility of your fist. "Give us a hand getting her upstairs...please."

Without a word, Jace was able to hoist you onto his back, with Baela and Rhaena watching to make sure you didn't let go and fall down the stairs.

"I think I cracked my finger," you said slurring your words. You held out your hand to Rhena to show her. "Can you see if I've cracked it?"

"I don't have x-ray vision, honey," she replied.

"You punched it with your other hand," Jace corrected you. Only you laughed, clutching his neck again. He still smelled exaggeratedly good and his hair was there for you to sink your face into. But soon you reached the bathroom.

Rhaena grabbed your hair and it wasn't long before you were puking. Outside the bathroom, Jace avoided Baela's gaze, who knew that Aemond's words must have hurt him. And soon your consciousness came back. You rinsed your mouth and rethought your life choices.

"Did I just punch Aemond Targaryen?" You asked the girl. And she nodded at you, smiling. "I just punched Aemond Targaryen!"

And then you smiled, and a little gasp escaped you, leaning out into the hallway to join Baela and Jacaerys.

"I just punched Aemond Targaryen!"

Though Baela was smiling, it was Jace who wanted to burst your little bubble of happiness.

"What you just did is make a fool of me," he cut you off, his tone serious and low, shifting his gaze from the floor to you.

"Hey...I stood up for you." You were instantly out of any joy.

"I didn't need your help, in fact, what I needed was for you not to be here. It was all your fault."

"Aemond would have used any excuse to insult you in front of everyone, no matter what happened, just like you don't need anything to insult me."

"Don't compare me to Aemond! He hates my mother and everything we have. Instead you..." he paused for a moment, frustrated and waving his hands around, not knowing what to squeeze, "you just need to exist to..."

"To hate me?"

Though he didn't answer, he didn't need to. He turned his eyes away from you, and closed his mouth. And then you were overcome with all the ridicule you had always made, not just today. Whatever had been going through his head about you had always mattered little to you. But now you could understand that it was you, your personality and everything that you would never change that bothered him so much. And that confused you more, because if Jacaerys saw you like that, when he was an admirable person in many ways, did that make you a despicable person?

"I'm going back to the flat" you whispered after a few seconds. You started down the stairs, getting as far away from Jace as possible.

"I'll give you a lift" Baela offered.

"No need, I'll walk..."

"No, I'll take you, I don't feel like being here anymore." She grabbed you by the shoulders and made you stop.

"Are you sure?"

"If my friend doesn't have a good time I'll never have a good time...I hope you feel the same way." She winked at you and you smiled a little. "Go to the car, I have to say goodbye to some colleagues."

She left you the keys and you walked alone to the place where you remembered getting off. And opening the door, the warmth of the car comforted you and although you thought you would be grateful for the silence, it brought back the bad memories and your head was spinning again. It took you a while to realise that Baela was taking a long time, but you refused to go back into that house.

Biting your nails in the dark, with a few stealthy tears falling, you half lay down in the back seat, because you always got dizzy in front, as all your friends knew. And when someone opened the door, you were instantly glad to think it was Baela, but it wasn't. The smell was different, and though it was a smell you loved, the presence made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Jacaerys sat in the back seat in awkward silence, and slammed the door shut. He didn't make you step aside, for he shrank back in his seat and turned on the car's light. And even then, he didn't look at you.

"Where's Baela?"

"Inside."

"And... And why are you out?"

"I'm not technically out of a place if I'm inside a car." He replied in a pedantic tone. To that you said nothing, just let out a snort, giving up. "Rhaena told me you'd be here."

You stood silent waiting for him to develop, but he struggled, shaking his leg, making you incredibly nervous.

"If you're going to be like this you might as well have stayed outside. In the open air if you wish me to be more specific..."

With a look of disgust, he opened the door and walked out. And you felt a little silly because the light made you look a little ridiculous in that posture, waiting for someone who wasn't coming and having blown the only chance you had to make amends with Jacaerys. And you watched from the window as he paced back and forth, his coat pulled tight and trying to cheat the cold. You enjoyed watching him for a while, and it wasn't long before he gave up. When he tried to go back inside, you quickly got into his seat, not letting him sit down.

"It must be minus twenty degrees in here, let me in," he demanded.

"You're too much sometimes."

"Please, my nipples are going to turn blue!"

At your hesitation, Jace decided to have his way, sitting down roughly and causing you to pull away. Locked in the car again, Jace took a breath, and finally spoke.

"I don't hate you!" Though from his tone it didn't sound like it. "But it's as simple as that every time I've run into you, you've managed to overshadow everything."

"Jacaerys, we've lived our whole lives together. It's natural for you to hate me--"

"But thats what I'm telling you, that I don't hate you, and that's what irritates me the most. You've been the apple of my mother's eye ever since you were adopted. Her only daughter, while I, the one already there, the eldest, the first-born and the supposed to be the dearest, have always remained in your shadow."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't, you'll never know what it's like to have everyone telling you how great you are while I choke on trying to make someone proud of me. You smile and you have it all."

"I don't know? Listen to yourself, Jacaerys, it's you who only has to smile to get what you want. You're a taciturn, stubborn and rather obtuse about a lot of things and everyone lets you slide because you're the favourite, the handsome, sporty one of the brothers and you get good grades even though no one's ever seen you study." Your raised voice made his eyes widen quite a bit, that or maybe you were moving dangerously towards him.

"I study at night!" he justified himself.

"I know, your mother always thought it was the hours you masturbated but I've always known you studied because you get anxiety about not answering an exam!"

"And you know everything because you are a know-it-all and everyone tells you everything because they want to be your friend!"

"Then why don't you?" That sounded a lot more desperate than you thought it would.

"Because I want to feel like a real leader for once in my life, I want to feel independent and you've never stopped trying to match me. You haven't even let me fight with someone who has insulted me, not you!"

"And you needed to ostracise me for years and remind me how lonely I am to get me to leave you alone?"

Then you stepped back, and the dim light let the two of you watch each other carefully. Your tears had long since passed, but Jacaerys seemed to have them on the verge of coming. And then you felt sorry.

"I'm sorry."

You said it unwillingly at the same time. Silence returned, and your gazes parted, though you couldn't help but glance sideways at him.

"The worst thing about all this..." he started to say, "is that I like the song you wanted to play too. But I didn't want to play it because it makes a lot of sense that people would have loved it and the wanted to be friends with you, you're someone...quite unforgettable."

"Well, you didn't need to learn the whole DJ thing to get girls' attention." That made him smile a little.

"Luke's not going to believe you called me 'the handsome one of the brothers'," he joked.

"Oh, that's all you got? Now I feel stupid. I'm going to go get Baela," you moved to open the car door, but again, Jace's hands picked you up, pulling you back towards him.

"I know I'm taciturn, stubborn and obtuse, but you know I'm more than that..." he then rested his hands on yours, checking those small burns that had been left over from the accident.

"Of course I know that, Jacaerys..." then you realised how close you were to his face. His greenish eyes were now completely black, and never before had you felt as seen by him as you did at that moment.

"Your fingers must be burning..." he put one of your hands to his lips.

"And you must still be a little cold."

Without quite knowing what was going on, the alcohol reminded you that you were indeed much looser than you were used to, so when Jace kissed your fingers slowly, you couldn't help but caress his lips, which went from cold to incredibly tempting.

As soon as you pulled your hand away, Jace launched himself at your lips, and first it was a strange, slow kiss, soft and silky. Jace smelled so good...and kissed so well...it didn't end there. He pulled you on top of him and continued kissing you, the passion increasing with each kiss. As your tongue entered, your hand moved down to Jace's chest and you felt it grow so close to your own sex. And the music coming from the party so far away seemed to increase in your mind, the movements of the car getting faster and faster.

When you undressed is something you'll never know, but you do remember undressing Jace with that stupid car light on. You were no virgin, but Jace felt so new, and the readjustment he gave you made you feel that instant electricity. And it was you moving up and down, with Jace trying to capture your lips, even though it had been feeling so good for a while that he could barely do anything but moan softly. He knew how to move his hands and his sweat made him look a thousand times more handsome than you'd ever seen him.

"I'm going to cum," he warned you. "Fuck, even for this you're the best..."

"Don't exaggerate," though it brought a smile to your face and red to your cheeks. It didn't take you long to feel that explosion as Jace closed his eyes and caught his breath.

Dismounting from him, the tender kiss that followed surprised you, and you could feel a smile on his lips. You hadn't cum, but the experience had been worth it, though you didn't think about the consequences at the time. Then Jacaerys brought his hand to where you wanted it most, and a moan escaped you in that supposedly high-pitched voice that didn't seem to bother Jace so much now.

"Tell me how you like to be touched," he whispered softly. And you put your hand with his to change the rhythm.

"I like it like this" you replied, his fingers were still a little cold and that made it all the better. You were concentrating but when you opened your eyes your enjoyment increased. Jace's face was pressed to yours, and he kept his eyes on you as he moved his hand without even penetrating you. He looked into your eyes, or he looked at your lips, but he was full of affection for you, for the first time it was only and completely for you.

Then that tingling feeling ran through you from your stomach to each of your fingers and toes, and Jacaerys delighted in seeing you with the favour returned.

And it all ended with another kiss, lacking tongue or eagerness, but full of tenderness that made you forget every single bad thing that had ever happened.

"Your mouth tastes like good weed liquor," he confessed as you got dressed again, his dimples peeking out.

"And yours tastes like rum-cola."

"Clearly I win this one."

Laughing and blushing, you nodded. And before you kissed him again, Baela and Rhaena's voices began to grow closer. And the two of you parted as if it were routine as the car doors opened and closed.

"I'm sorry for the lock-up," apologised Baela. "I hope it's all right."

"It is...it is," you responded.

Jace opened the window, trying to disperse the smell a little, and his attempt at being sneaky was a little too funny to you.

"I'm glad...something smells funny though..."

"Did you know that cars are cleaned on the inside too, Baela?" The twin teased.

The two engaged in an absurd argument that was amusing, but your eyes and mind focused on Jace as he placed his hand gently on your leg, and then turned his palm over to offer it to you. And you took it silently, interlacing your fingers and letting them rest in your lap.

You had cried about Jacaerys, you had executed an act of violence in defence of Jacaerys, you had left Jacaerys in the cold. You had made love with Jacaerys...now you could understand why wars were difficult. What a weirdly victorious night that was.

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akimbergkvist · 1 year ago

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A liberdade e o capitalismo

Antes de todo trabalho que escolho começar, eu sempre reflito não só sobre ele, mas sobre o impacto que quero causar nas pessoas que me escutam. Eu sou um homem simples, tenho necessidades normais e vivo como um homem simples quando não estou sendo visto pelas câmeras, mas não aplico a mesma lógica para o que faço. Não porque sempre está na frente das câmeras, mas sim, porque é impossível passar uma mensagem adequada se o meio pelo qual você pensa em fazê-lo está comprometido. O meu trabalho tem uma grande parte de quem sou, e isso fica mais do que exposto quando teço uma crítica à algo, seja ela explícita ou não. Certa vez, escrevi “eles podem te entregar um pouco de liberdade, se você entende, é claro, o significado dessa palavra“, e recebi algumas perguntas acerca da interpretação que deveria ser dada a esse verso. Primeiro, eu gostaria de afirmar que deixo livre para você que ouve entender o que quiser, ainda que seja o completo oposto do que afirmo. Há alguma verdade em quase tudo, se você analisar com parcimônia.

Mas como me foi perguntado, eu devo responder. O que eu quis dizer com isso? Bem, é mais simples do que pareceu para algumas pessoas que me perguntaram. Está intrinsecamente ligado a quem sou como animal político, com ideais e opiniões por vezes polêmicas. Enquanto estudava Marx na faculdade e por minha conta e risco, li as seguintes frases: “Os homens fazem sua própria história, mas não a fazem como querem; não a fazem sob circunstâncias de sua escolha, e sim sob aquelas com que se defrontam diretamente, legadas e transmitidas pelo passado” e “A história se repete, a primeira vez como tragédia e a segunda como farsa”. Ditas em épocas distintas, ambas defendem o mesmo: a falta de liberdade, também essencial, aos homens de mais diversas nacionalidades, trejeitos, personalidades e até posições políticas. Você pode ser um comunista claro como eu, ou um projeto de Donald Trump: está fadado a repetição dos padrões deixados pelos mais antigos. A diferença entre eu e esse reacionário terrível é a forma que enxergamos as correntes.

Você pode me perguntar de novo: Akim, o que isso tem de relação com o capitalismo? Com prazer, eu te responderei: tudo. O capitalismo bagunçou a nossa ideia de liberdade, e nos aprisiona num ciclo eterno de achar que é melhor estar livre e trabalhar em condições análogas à escravidão do que “não estar livre” e ganhar dignamente. Eu discutirei melhor a “falta de liberdade socialista” em um outro artigo nesse blog, já que por ora, não precisaremos desse conceito. Mas, para que você me entenda melhor, eu parafraseio Isaiah Berlin, que diz que “quanto mais a área de não-interferência (do Estado), maior é a liberdade”. Essa é a liberdade negativa, a liberdade que te permite votar de quatro em quatro anos, escolher representantes e então agir como um mero boneco frente aos interesses dos homens na política. Essa é a liberdade do capitalismo. É pouca, e mais ainda, pode ser retirada a qualquer momento.

Bertrold Brecht, em seu texto “O Fascismo é a Verdadeira Face do Capitalismo“, explicita que em alguns países, a garantia de propriedade é mantida através de meios menos violentos (democracia) porque a luta de classes não alcançou o seu auge nesses. Numa linguagem simples, deixa claro que eliminar a barbárie (fascismo) sem suprimir o capitalismo é como “desejar a carne sem matar o bezerro”. E mais ainda, explicita que a barbárie não só faz parte do sistema capitalista, mas também é essencialmente ele mesmo. No que talvez seja uma ironia do destino ou uma coincidência infeliz, Hayek, neoliberal, conhecido por suas posições pró-mercado, clarificou bem tal característica para os seus opositores quando abriu sua defesa para Pinochet. Parafraseando o mesmo:

“Nos tempos medievais, é claro, houve muitos casos de governos autoritários sob os quais a liberdade pessoal era mais segura do que sob muitas democracias. Nunca ouvi nada ao contrário dos primeiros anos do governo inicial do Dr. Salazar em Portugal e duvido que haja hoje em qualquer democracia na Europa de Leste ou nos continentes da África, América do Sul ou Ásia (com exceção de Israel, Singapura e Hong Kong) bem garantido como então em Portugal. Mais recentemente, não consegui encontrar uma única pessoa, mesmo no muito caluniado Chile, que não concordasse que a liberdade pessoal era muito maior sob Pinochet do que sob Allende. Afinal, algumas democracias só foram possíveis pelo poderio militar de alguns generais. E minhas antigas dúvidas sobre se uma democracia pode ser mantida em um país que não foi ensinado por diferentes instituições, a tradição do estado de direito certamente só foi confirmada pela história recente.”

Como um aparente defensor do laissez-faire (deixai fazer) pode assumir em plenos pulmões e sem vergonha que a morte de Allende e de civis chilenos inocentes pela ditadura sanguinolenta de Pinochet é uma garantia da “liberdade individual”? Que liberdade existe em matar crianças, estuprar mulheres e forçar milhares ao exílio? E, mais ainda, que liberdade é essa que permite a orquestração de crimes dos mais diversos para alcançá-la? Não há retoricidade em minha pergunta e sinto desgosto em responder: essa é a liberdade do mercado, fantasiada através da possibilidade de fazer o que desejar, mas que esconde a morte, o desemprego e o dogmatismo. Hayek não foi o único neoliberal a aplaudir Pinochet, sendo acompanhado por Friedman (que descreveu o Chile como um milagre econômico e político) e por outros Chicago Boys menos influentes. Assim, é possível afirmar que o neoliberalismo e o capitalismo não só despolitizam a sociedade como conjunto, entregando-a um mínimo de liberdade, como também não perdem tempo na hora de virar-se contra ela.

#neoliberalismo #hayek #capitalismo

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