Intermittent Amnesia: Luxury Dining and Memory Fasts

In Portugal, politics and justice have become a theater where forgetfulness is the main star. José Sócrates, when asked about a dinner with Ricardo Salgado, the "Owner of It All" of the Espírito Santo empire, responded hesitantly, as if unsure whether he was present or not. Not remembering a meeting with the most powerful man in Portuguese banking is, at the very least, an insult to the intelligence of the citizenry. This is where the irony arises: the strategy of "lack of memory" seems to have become an intermittent fasting of memories. Sócrates doesn't forget everything; he only forgets what suits him, skipping memories like someone skipping meals.

"I don't remember" has become the favorite catchphrase of Portuguese politicians trapped in legal proceedings. It's a perfect defense weapon that neither confirms nor denies. It's like a smokescreen that obscures the truth and prolongs proceedings until the statute of limitations expires.

Ricardo Salgado, in turn, suffers from the same selective malady. His memory never fails him when it comes to millions; but compromising dinners, meetings, or encounters mysteriously disappear from his mental archive. It's an epidemic of convenient amnesia, restricted to what could be incriminating.

To any ordinary Portuguese person, these excuses are ridiculous. People remember what they ate yesterday because they had to count pennies at the supermarket. Yet Socrates, with his houses in Paris and his life of luxury, claims not to remember a dinner that represents a web of interests and favors. It's forgetfulness as an insult, like someone looking at the people and saying, "Suck it up."

We live in an era where intermittent fasting has become popular as a health method. Thousands of Portuguese people practice it to control their weight and balance their bodies. Sócrates and Salgado also seem to be adepts, fasting from memory, remembering some episodes, forgetting others, and thus skipping memories like someone skipping meals.

But this regime doesn't lose weight; on the contrary, it fuels the people's distrust and indignation. While Socrates fasts from memory, millions of Portuguese people literally fast at the table. Inflation erodes wages, and precarious employment forces families into painful choices. Many know all too well what it's like to skip meals; the elites' "intermittent amnesia" is even more cruel in this contrast where those with plenty forget, but those who are hungry always remember.

Memory is more than a cognitive function; it is the essence of a nation. José Sócrates may continue to fast from memory, Ricardo Salgado may follow his example, but Portugal must not fall into that regime. We need to remember every scandal, every betrayal, and every denied dinner. Only then will we build a future in which politics is not a banquet for just a few, but a meal for all.

Ultimately, Socrates' intermittent amnesia is a metaphor for our national tragedy: leaders who forget the people, and a people who, all too often, forget to demand leaders worthy of their history. Let us break this cycle, not with memory fasts, but with an insatiable hunger for justice, truth, and national dignity.