The greatest tragedy of the CPT and the government is that no social group perceives them as a necessity. Aside from a few profiteers who thrive in the anarchy engulfing the capital, even the private sector—traditionally a proponent of order—criticizes the current leaders for their inability to provide it. As for the parties and other organizations that have delegated representatives to the Transitional Presidential Council, it has become urgent, given the council’s staggering impotence, to distance themselves and temper their opportunism, lest they lose their relevance on the political chessboard and find themselves the target of popular outrage.

At a time when everything is collapsing, when the capital is consumed by murderous chaos, when numerous voices are rising to denounce the authorities’ inertia, the presidential advisors, to borrow Clemenceau’s words, cling to power with soft nails. Their indifference to the plight of the displaced—haggard and physically and mentally exhausted—is infuriating. Their grandiose rhetoric in condemning the crimes of the gangs is exasperating. They slumber at the edge of the abyss, without plans, without the resolve to fight insecurity. The coordinator of the CPT himself has given up since his trip to Europe and now places his hopes solely in a miracle to pull the country out of the quagmire. His invocation of Our Lady of Perpetual Help sounds like a funeral oration.