ABSTRACT
It is very common to turn to the legacies of the past, to the writings of thinkers from other eras, to sanctify the archive of intellectuals who managed to capture the spirit of their time and are therefore transferred to ours as a sacred key under which the authors can decipher the mysteries of our current situation. It is also common to be focused on what has been missing, what is pending, what was not achieved, what returns as an empty point that brings us closer to the impotence of our positions and actions. The political struggle within the same ideals is not exempt from confrontations, hatreds, differences, and ruptures. The very configuration of the path of this book is a beautiful metaphor for the difficulties of our political moment. Only silence, distance, pause, and reflection led me to understand that politics is in itself a struggle of re-invention of the love that they deny in themselves.
