The contract for a drinking water plant in Uruguay is an example and a means to reflect on the disappearance of shame in contemporary politics. Shame, that condition that the Greeks believed necessary for democracy. By
In certain circumstances, it becomes unavoidable to confront the notion of shame in the political sphere. This is what is happening in Uruguay, where the outgoing government of Luis Lacalle Pou recently signed a multi-million dollar contract to build a water intake and treatment plant on the shores of the Río de la Plata, in the town of Arazatí.
Shame is certainly a difficult concept to deal with. According to the classic definition of the term, it refers to a feeling of guilt, humiliation and even dishonour for what has been done or said. It is a feeling that ultimately depends on one’s moral framework about the common good of each individual and society. Moreover, there are different types, some very personal, others more collective. Nevertheless, throughout these years of debate about the stubbornness of the current Uruguayan government in awarding an unimaginable and costly project to a business group, at least in my case, the feeling of shame has always been present.
I am not referring to the so-called shame of others, which arises from observing what other individuals do or say, but to a revealing condition for reflecting on the politics of the common good. In my opinion, I would have been so ashamed to defend such a project, and this feeling would have been so oppressive that I would have decided never to sign a contract like the one that Luis Lacalle Pou’s presidency has just approved.
I would be ashamed if I had to defend a company that claims to be constantly drawing fresh water from the Rio de la Plata, when I know that this is impossible, given the saline intrusion that takes place every two to three months. Scientific reports have repeatedly warned that brackish water from the Atlantic Ocean is entering the area.
It would be shameful to cover up this salinity problem by resorting to the construction of a large reservoir, which, although presented as a solution, would mean that rural producers would lose their land and the aquifer of the entire region would certainly be contaminated. They are advocating a huge dam that will inevitably leak water underground.
I would be ashamed to know the risks of the green tides with their cyanobacteria in the Río de la Plata or their proliferation in this reservoir. A phenomenon that makes it impossible to use this water.
What a shame, because around 40 per cent of the water pumped by the project is lost through cracks, holes and other leaks in the network of the state water company (OSE). The fact that almost half of the drinking water in a capital city is lost through leaks and breaks is, to say the least, scandalous.
I would be even more ashamed to see the need to hide or minimise all these limitations and risks in order to avoid a wave of rejection and backlash from citizens’ organisations and local communities. If these risks and limitations had been explained and made clear from the outset, the public pressure to reject the project would have been enormous.
It is also a shame that the project, which does not represent a technological innovation in responsible water management, could not be proudly presented as an example at an international level. On such a global stage, be it an environmental forum or an economic congress, who would take seriously a project to manage water while at the same time losing almost half of it?
It would be even more shameful to accept this work at a cost of around 300 million dollars, plus a financial agreement which, with adjustments and interest, will require another 900 million dollars to be paid over a little more than 17 years, at an exorbitant interest rate. The total will be more than $1 billion, about two-thirds of which will remain in the hands of private companies.
Shame, because the enormous water losses would lead the state (and us) to be told that the equivalent of some $400 million would be lost through these leaks in the drinking water network, spilling into the depths.
Shame on us, because by paying such a large amount and over such a long period, the state water company (OSE) is exposed to serious financial risk. I would find it intolerable to impose a sharp increase in monthly water bills, to abandon repairs to the metropolitan network or to assume the collapse of this state company.
It is a shame that, despite all the local opposition, the rejection of the scientific community and the water company’s workers’ union, the possible unconstitutionality of the project and, most recently, the opposition of the next government, which will be in the hands of the Frente Amplio, they have waited until the last moment to sign the contract.
Son muchas vergüenzas asociadas, solapadas unas sobre las otras, las que llevarían, al menos en mi caso, y creo que en el de muchos otros, a abandonar la pretensión de construir esas obras en la costa del Río de la Plata. Nunca se debería haber aceptado ese emprendimiento.
Pero del otro lado están los que defienden esas obras, convencidos, cada uno a su modo, de su necesidad e, incluso, de sus bondades. Allí no hay vergüenza, y es por eso que se festejó la firma del contrato con el consorcio de empresas privadas. En esto se expresan diferentes sensibilidades y moralidades, y, sin entrar a discutir aquí si una es mejor y otra es peor, a los efectos de una mirada sobre la política es posible interrogarse por qué unos sienten vergüenza y otros no. ¿Qué implica la ausencia de vergüenza en la gestión estatal que debería salvaguardar el bien común? Lo que llama la atención en este contexto político es esa vergüenza que otros no sienten.
Recordemos que el sentido de la vergüenza revestía roles clave en las nociones clásicas de la política. Para Platón, contribuía a la convivencia, la sabiduría y la valentía, tal como nos recuerda Frédéric Gros, quien da unos pasos más al afirmar que, en los tiempos actuales, la vergüenza es necesaria e incluso revolucionaria (1). Sin olvidar que existen varios usos de esta noción, al enfocarnos en la política contemporánea se observa que los actores más conservadores se han despojado del sentido de lo vergonzoso –basta observar a Donald Trump, como ejemplo extremo en el norte, o Javier Milei, aquí, más cerca, en Argentina–. Las opciones volcadas a la extrema derecha perdieron los sentidos del bien común y el compromiso con honrar esos mandatos, y por ello no hay vergüenza social ni política en sus acciones. En ellos prevalecen la impunidad y el beneficio propio.
It is a tragedy when a government lacks this political shame. On the other hand, to feel it, as one’s own or because of what others do, serves the democratic construction of a common good that is not tied to the advantages of a few. It makes it possible to debate acceptable and unacceptable choices, and even more, because it contributes to the rebellious ambition for a better world. A better politics must embrace shame.
Notes
Frédéric Gros, La vergüenza es revolucionaria, Taurus, 2023.
* E. Gudynas is an analyst at CLAES (Latin American Centre for Social Ecology). Revised version of an article originally published in the weekly Brecha (Montevideo).
Rebelión has published this article with the author’s permission under a Creative Commons licence, respecting his freedom to publish it in other sources.
