In 1976, we dreamed of a regional public administration that would be a friend to the citizen—or, more accurately, to the People of the Azores—in stark contrast to the civil service of the Estado Novo, which inspired fear itself. This was hardly surprising, for between civil servants, parish overseers, mayors, parish council presidents, officials of other public bodies (not all of them, of course), and the PIDE itself, there seemed—or at least many people believed there seemed—to exist a disturbing degree of complicity. The very men of the land—we remember it well—were intimidated if they carried a cigarette lighter instead of matches; if their ox cart “sang” beneath the weight of wheat or other produce; if their cattle, or they themselves, failed to travel on the correct side of the road. In short, it was a level of terror designed to frighten, humiliate, and reduce a citizen to little more than an object at the disposal of the totalitarian State and its watchdogs. We therefore dreamed of better days. Of an Autonomy served by a new generation of public servants, genuinely committed to serving the People of the Azores.
As it turned out, only a few short steps separated that dream from the nightmare. Before long, this new administration began to transform itself into a battleground for political appointments. Every faction within every party in power carved out positions for its own supporters. It should be clearly understood that, beyond the usual changing of chairs and the filling of new posts with each shift in political power, we also witnessed fierce struggles over positions within the ruling party itself. Alongside this system of recruitment, another equally harmful practice emerged from the very beginning. Faced with a public administration oversized for the realities of our islands, it became necessary to bring in people from elsewhere—a solution that is not, in itself, a problem—but in far too many cases these newcomers lacked even the minimum preparation or any genuine desire to put down roots among us. A vocation for public service was never, as far as we can remember, a priority. These and other factors, present from the very birth of Autonomy and continuing to this day, ultimately fostered the emergence of a caste concerned primarily with itself, its privileges, and its “rights.” To these people, the People of the Azores often seem little more than an inconvenience, when they ought to be regarded as the true sovereign, the employer, the one to whom everything is owed. The responsibility borne by successive political decision-makers is immense. Increasingly, they find themselves unable to exercise real control over an administration employing thousands of civil servants who, along with their families, also happen to vote. And that can determine who remains in power.
Now we face additional aggravating circumstances. We have embraced the new ideology of Me, of My supposed rights, of My supposed “quality time” for myself and my family, but far less time devoted to serving those who pay salaries that are often far higher than the earnings of those who labor from dawn until dusk—the very employer who foots the bill for everything. Then there are the famous “experiments,” which almost immediately become acquired rights: continuous work schedules, so often lacking any meaningful oversight; four-day workweeks, an idea so absurd that even the devil himself would never have conceived it (political leaders quietly complain about the consequences, while insisting their hands are tied); and the all-too-common “disappearances” from the Region for days on end, always for perfectly good and justifiable reasons… (Perhaps less so now, without Ryanair.)
Until it all comes crashing down.
Editorial from DIário Insular, published on the island of Terceira.