"Who lives in Calabria" was only one verse of that masterpiece written 30 years ago by Rino Gaetano.
Already, people living in Calabria. Live in Calabria, often live and die there. Sometimes physically, often inside. Calabria This is the third millennium.
World War II, as at the beginning of the twentieth century and late nineteenth century Calabria had a poor, poor resources, poor prospects, direct daughter of the barons of the estate and a society that enriched a few rich many poor and hungry, but with its own identity.
The brigandage, for heaven's sake, yet existed, especially in the '50s and '60s, Calabria had its own profile that is fueling hopes for change.
Today, in the second decade of the third millennium, all seems lost. The armies of ordinary people, simple, decent, are defeated. Defeated in the ideals of living in a normal society, in turn, with a bag of congenital crooks and fighting, of course, but still bag.
who grew up in the 80-90 knows that and Reggio Calabria in particular have accepted those years being unconsciously final fate of those who have lost the game and just try to limit the liability. The pervasiveness of the 'Ndrangheta is around us always has the face of those classmates that we have attended - and in our own way, for how can you do with all your soul, loved by kids - and now they have proved something other than what we , very different from what we wanted to be.
We have always had the courage to resist (for those who were not forced to go on), day after day to accept abuse, deprivation of the legitimate aspirations and opportunities of castration, but not to give - all together - a change in mentality, way of thinking, where splashing water fish of the crime, which, before being organized, is social, almost anthropological.
In many, many eke out a living every day with honesty - intellectual and behavior at the cost of great sacrifices - were offended by this statement, but history has shown and reiterates every day than the daily review any wickedness which attacks the polis is coupled only with the individual characteristic of the Arab population from which we inherited indifference, almost ataraxia, compared to the terrible things that can happen to us.
We feel, whatever happens, that - however - could go worse and never, not even for once, think how much better we right to claim, however, that things tadpole.
The 'Ndrangheta, for decades, yet unwittingly complicit with our frightened silence, he ate everything. It is eaten peace, money, public policy, economic development, proper functioning of public administration, social growth, perception of the most delicate matters, in particular, capacity for indignation. A force of brutality
everything seems normal there. It seems perfectly normal that every holy night are three, four or five bombs or fires only in the city of Reggio characterize the striking of the hour, it seems perfectly normal that the electoral dynamics are very often characterized by a vote of exchange, it seems perfectly normal that the economic initiative, free enterprise, which underlies all the liberal state, every economy to free trade, is not conditional, but totally controlled in every breath, the wishes of the thighs and - since two pairs of decades - from their direct contacts who sit in the rooms of the buttons.
For too long the city's history was written in a matter of sitting by a small oligarchy of powerful, than the ruling class that, without exception, has been at the forefront of interest shameful and disgraceful purposes in the name of a few dollars more.
People who for decades has sold soul to the devil and territory without understanding - but the presumption and ignorance make it more of a blind bandage - which thinks that the rudder to hold in his hand was firmly in the hands of just what the hell that one day would make them, just that these gentlemen had allowed - through intermediaries - access in the lounges, just puppets.
It 's too late now, after a "simple" demonstration bomb in front of a door to ask what do all these merchants in the temple, it would be easier, however, ask who owned the temple, we sadly discover that the merchants are just at home and abuse us, certainly the most numerous, but often the most quiet, the more helpless and not necessarily at fault for allowing the bottom of the siege of the temple where, perhaps, yet one could intervene.
Certainly, no one can ask ordinary people to become heroes, a status should not get in these conditions, but - thank goodness - the weight of indignation, the public ridicule, contempt, namely that it should still be almost mandatory and widespread .
And do not believe that it would be useless: in this case history has taught us that the gangs are very careful not to arouse public outrage, the crime has always tried to conduct their own leaders more likely - so to speak - in public relations, that they should have winked at by the people. The route of the city's most prominent gangs in recent decades makes it clear: the mass, after all, some characters are not so unpleasant.
these inconvenient truths? Maybe, like the fact that - of course - although spread can not be considered absolute. But Reggio had managed to make even hardened to a war that lasted six years (most of the second world war) and took to the streets of the capital almost a thousand dead. On the streets, bars, traffic lights, with rifles, bazookas, car bombs. These were the years 1985-1991, not a century ago. Yet the city still once locked himself in a gloomy silence, suffering strokes, breathing deeply the air of barbarism imposed by those who, coming from the living room, he had already taken the temple.
And yet because the masses will react in some way, always serves someone or something that you drag, the stimuli and, to tell the truth, for decades the judiciary, the police of this city have not excelled in readiness reflexes and operating results. It was not until 1991, with Operation Santabarbara, 1993 with the "Tirreno" and then in 1995 with "Olympia" and 1996 with "Valanidi" because something is moving, up to the last year in which the air against the merchants who took the time has changed radically. Now the clash, the front seems near. No longer the game of chess (in some cases made up) of the past, but a face-to-face that could also be bloody.
On the other hand no one ever landing in liberating the occupied territories was marked by a bed of roses and was not totally rid of the sabotage of someone accustomed to the double. The people, in turn, before exposure, it needs to really understand that this time you can win, once again exposing himself and could still lose, then, dear cost.
Yet there comes a time when everyone, even those which can not be asked to be heroes must risk something in the line up, if only to cheer.
That time coincides exactly with the full perception of the risk that - gradually - the traders have taken everything, even the thoughts, dreams and hopes.
That moment comes when, for those who live (and die) in Calabria, even the simple daily life is no longer the same, even the most trivial gestures and imbued with human dignity become difficult.
That moment comes when suddenly you realize that's not true that whatever happens it goes on as before as long as you do not touch directly, it is not true that whatever happens the sky is always bluer.
And when that day comes it's time to think to make the way for those who come after us, if you have chosen, by chance and sang as Rino Gaetano, living in Calabria.
Giusva Branca - Strill.it
