But if there are such Europeans, there are others as well. The race of the restless, the devil's spawn, but not so easily extinguished, however much the soothsayers may wear themselves out with prophecies, all those who watch the train passing and grow sad with longing for the journey they will never make, all those who cannot see a bird in the sky without feeling the urge to soar like an eagle, all those who, seeing a ship disappear over the horizon, give a tremulous sigh from the bottom of their hearts, in their rapture they had thought it was because they were so close, only to realize it was because they were so far apart. It was thus one of those restless nonconformists who first dared to write the scandalous words, Nous aussi, nous sommes ibériques, he wrote them on a corner of the wall, timidly, like someone who is still unable to express his desire but cannot bear to conceal it any longer. Since the words were written, as you can see, in the French language, you will think this happened in France, all I can say is, Let each man think what he will, it could also have been in Belgium or Luxembourg. This inaugural declaration spread rapidly, it appeared on the façades of large buildings, on pediments, on pavements, in the subway corridors, on bridges and viaducts, the loyal conservatives of Europe protested, These anarchists are mad, it is always the same, the anarchists are blamed for everything.
But the saying jumped frontiers, and once it had jumped them it became clear that the same thought had already appeared in other countries, in German Auch wir sind iberisch, in English We are Iberians too, in Italian Anche noi siamo iberici, and suddenly it caught fire like a fuse, ablaze all over the place in letters of red, black, blue, green, yellow and violet, a seemingly inextinguishable flame, in Dutch and Flemish Wij zijn ook Iberiërs, in Swedish Vi ocksâ aro iberiska, in Finnish Me myôskin olemme iberialaisia, in Norwegian Vi ogsâ er iberer, in Danish Ogsâ vi er iberiske, in Greek Eímaste íberai ki emeís, in Frisian Ek Wv Binne Ibeariërs, and also, although with ostensible reticence, in Polish, My też jeteśmy iberyjczykami, in Bulgarian Nie sachto sme iberytzi, in Hungarian Mi is ibérek vagyunk, in Russian Mi toje iberitsi, in Rumanian Si noi'sîntem iberici, in Slovak Ai my sme iberčamia. But the culmination, the climax, the crowning glory, a rare expression we're not likely to repeat, was when on the Vatican walls, on the venerable murals and columns of the Basilica, on the plinth of Michelangelo's Pietà, inside the dome, in enormous sky-blue lettering on the hallowed ground of St. Peter's Square, that same declaration appeared in Latin, Nos quoque iberi sumus, like some divine utterance in the majestic plural, a Mene, mene, tekel upharsin of the new era, and the Pope, at the window of his apartments, blessed himself out of sheer terror, made the sign of the cross in midair, but to no avail, for this paint is guaranteed to last, not even ten whole congregations armed with steel wool, bleach, pumice stones, scrapers, solvents for removing paint would suffice to erase those words, they would have work enough to keep them busy until the next Vatican Council.
From one day to the next, these slogans spread throughout Europe. What probably started as little more than the futile gesture of an idealist gradually spread until it became an outcry, a protest, a mass demonstration. Initially, these manifestations were dismissed with contempt, the words themselves treated with derision. But it wasn't long before the authorities became concerned about this course of events, which could not be blamed on interference from abroad, also a source of much subversive activity, at least the homegrown nature of the graffiti campaign saved the authorities the trouble of investigating and naming the foreign power they had in mind. It had become the fashion for subversives to parade through the streets with stickers in their lapels or, more daringly, stuck on their front or back, on their legs, on every part of their body and in every conceivable language, even in regional dialects, in various forms of slang, finally in Esperanto, but this was difficult to understand. A joint strategy of counterattack adopted by the European governments consisted of organizing debates and roundtable discussions on television, mainly with the participation of people who had fled the peninsula when the rupture was complete and irreversible, not the unfortunate people who had been there as tourists and who, poor things, still had not recovered from the fright, but the so-called natives, more precisely those who, despite close ties of tradition and culture, of property and power, had turned their backs on this geological madness and opted for the physical stability of the continent. Speaking with deep compassion and knowledge of the facts, these people painted a black picture of the Iberian situation, they offered advice to those restless spirits who were unwisely about to put Europe's identity at risk, and each of them ended his turn in the debate with a definitive phrase, staring the spectator in the eye and assuming an attitude of utter sincerity, Follow my example, opt for Europe.
The result was not particularly productive, save for the protests of the partisans of the peninsula, who claimed that they had been the victims of discrimination, and who, if neutrality and democratic pluralism were not just empty words, should have been invited to appear on television to express their views, if they had any to express. An understandable precaution. Armed with reasons, which any discussion about reason always supplies, these youths, for it was chiefly youths who were carrying out the most spectacular deeds, could have made their protests with greater conviction, whether in the classroom or in the street, not to mention in the home. It is even debatable whether these youths, once armed with reasons, would have dispensed with direct action, thus allowing the calming effect of their intelligence to prevail, contrary to what people have believed since the beginning of time. The question is debatable but scarcely worthwhile, for in the meantime the television studios were stoned, shops selling television sets were ransacked in the presence of the dealers, who cried out in despair, But I'm not to blame, their comparative innocence did not help them, picture tubes exploded like firecrackers, packing cases were piled up on the street, set alight, reduced to ashes. The police arrived and charged, the rebels dispersed, and this standoff has lasted for the past week, right up until today, when our travelers leave Figueira da Foz led by a dog, three men, and the lover of one of them, who was his lover without yet being his lover, or who, not yet being his lover, was already his lover, anyone with experience of the affairs and intrigues of the heart will understand this muddle. As the latter are heading north, and Joaquim Sassa has already suggested, If we pass through Oporto we can all stay at my house, hundreds of thousands, millions of youths throughout the continent have taken to the streets, armed not with reasons but with clubs, bicycle chains, grappling irons, knives, awls, scissors, as if driven insane with rage, as well as with frustration and the sorrow of things to come, they are shouting, We too are Iberians, with that same despair that has caused the shopkeepers to cry out, But we're not to blame.