Israel Centeno

Higo Chávez didn’t fall from the sky saying,

“I’m here to destroy the army and build a narco-state.”

He walked in quietly—door by door—

because the good people, the ones who prayed,

who voted for “the lesser evil,”

who said “you’re exaggerating” when RCTV was shut down,

kept opening the hallway for him.

It wasn’t a coup.

It was a slow avalanche we pushed with apathy,

with abstention,

with resentment toward those who came before.

And when the monster finally sat in Miraflores,

there was no Constitution left—

only militias, clans,

and a country in ruins.

The same happened with Hitler:

he didn’t arrive shouting “I’ll kill six million.”

He started by censoring the press,

and the intellectuals—the good ones—

signed the papers: “Better order than chaos.”

Stalin didn’t begin with gulags either.

He began with a purge

that the artists—the good ones—

applauded as “cleansing.”

And always, always, the same lullaby:

“Don’t compare us to other countries.

That can’t happen here.”

They repeat it until it does.

And they—those who never believed—

are the first to line up beneath the guillotine.

Because evil doesn’t need monsters roaring.

It only needs comfortable people saying,

“Relax. It’s not that bad.”

And when the monster closes the door,

there is no key left—

only chains.