Coherence allows a politician, first, to be credible, and then respected. Especially when his career has lacked brilliance, and he has reached high office after too many failed attempts and years of servility, with his back to his own roots.
Therein, precisely, lies the first incoherence of the character; in promoting, claiming and supporting everything that, under the pretext of overthrowing the Cuban "dictatorship", harms the rights of the people of his origins.
Although revealing of his great humanity, that is not the only discordant note of Donald Trump's now Secretary of State. It turns out that, while he has never tired of saying that he is the son of Cuban emigrants, and always exemplifies how hard they worked to get ahead, he supports the expulsion of millions of people who, without distinction, are no longer illegal or undocumented migrants, they are "criminals", "murderers", "traffickers" or "thieves."
With this preamble of inconsistencies, it was not surprising that, in his tour of several Latin American countries, he promoted the thesis that was programmed for him. To make it clearer, it is something like: "I come on behalf of the country most infamous for violating, in every possible way, human rights, but Cuba, Venezuela and Nicaragua, are the enemies of humanity."
The truth is that Marco Rubio walks around with more of the same hypocrisy based on a visceral hatred against the left. His discourse, unsustainable because it lacks real arguments for the ideas he defends, overflows before international opinion, and before something much more powerful: the truth.
But Rubio is only the emissary on duty, the guinea pig, whose minutes of glory will pass, perhaps even when a certain president does not like the "management" of his instrument. We have seen many like him, we have heard many times the same speech, but we are still here.
It turns out that "the enemies of humanity" receive every day countless signs of solidarity, of support. It turns out that we have never, not even for a second, been alone, nor will we ever be. Each one reaps what he sows, neither more nor less, and in this story, contempt and isolation are clearly not our fruits.
