Letters
Letters •
We also remember the Italian victims of international terrorism
Who wrote to the editor-in-chief, Claudio Cerasa
11 SEP 26
Translated by AI

To the editor – Achille Lauro, shipowner and mayor of Naples in the 1950s, used to give away his left shoe before the vote; the right one if he was elected. If Trump were as serious and honest as the legendary ‘’o Comandante’, he should give Americans half of the promised five thousand dollars in advance, and settle the bill after a Republican victory in the mid-term elections.
Michele Magno
It should be noted that the Superbonus and other building subsidies have generated credits totalling over 200 billion euros. On average: around 4,000 euros for every Italian voter (Trump, delightfully, is offering 5,000 dollars to every American). Read Salvatore Merlo today to understand why, on this issue too, Trump has a lot to learn – even from Italy.
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To the Editor – Exactly a quarter of a century has passed since the deadliest terrorist attack in history in terms of the number of victims. We are all familiar with the Memorial erected in New York at the site known as Ground Zero, bearing the names of the nearly 3,000 victims. It is a simple yet moving monument, with the names inscribed on granite slabs and two pools situated where the Towers once stood, their flowing water symbolising life and rebirth. That attack was followed, during the era of al-Qaeda and ISIS, by many others, including some that claimed the lives of Italians abroad. These occurred in Iraq, Egypt, Tunisia, Bangladesh, Turkey, Nigeria, Indonesia, Saudi Arabia and also in Europe: at the Christmas markets in Berlin, in Paris and Nice in France, on the Ramblas in Barcelona, and on the London Underground. In total, there have been more than 50, not counting the military personnel killed on missions abroad. They were our fellow citizens, each different from the other: technicians on posting abroad, hotel staff, humanitarian workers, ordinary tourists, journalists – all victims of the hatred propagated by Islamic radicalism, a hatred that still thrives. In Afghanistan, more than twenty million women—twenty million—walk around as if shrouded and are only allowed to attend school up to what we call primary school, which is in reality a school where they are taught to serve. They live almost as slaves, subject to property rights. So much for ‘woke’. At the sites of the massacres in Italy – in Piazza Fontana, in Brescia, in Bologna – a monument commemorates the victims and helps ensure those massacres are not forgotten. The same applies, or at least a commemorative plaque, to the places where the victims of far-left terrorism fell. Local councils and associations organise meetings and events there. The Italian victims of international terrorism, on the other hand, are completely forgotten; their stories and names have vanished, just like those of people killed in ordinary road accidents. Where did the four Italian pensioners who died in 2015 in the massacre at the Bardo Museum in Tunis come from? No one knows; they are simply defined by the fact that they were pensioners. Who were the six Italians killed on the Nice seafront? Who was Valeria Solesin, killed at the Bataclan? Perhaps a student, and who was Antonio Megalizzi, who died in Strasbourg? A journalist, as we vaguely recall. Unfortunately—and it was inevitable that this would happen—there are those who have capitalised on the deaths in Italian tragedies; some have even advanced their careers a little too far, in an unexpected and somewhat over-the-top manner. But these dead, the victims of Islamic terrorism, on the other hand, serve no purpose, not least because they are of little political use. When will there be a collective memorial in a square in Rome to commemorate them, organised on the initiative of the mayor or the government and the opposition—for once, working together? This would be a way of honouring not only the Italian victims but also those from across Europe—a place that is not merely a geographical entity but a place where human life has value and which, through its freedom and culture, has chosen not to hate.
Guido Salvini
To forget is to erase. Not to erase is to face the roots of terror head-on. An excellent idea, one I wholeheartedly endorse.
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To the Editor – I agree with the points you made in your brilliant article. I would like to take this opportunity to note that the Tamburi district of Taranto covers 93 hectares next to the steelworks and is thought to have around 17,000 residents. Between 1956 and 1964, my father was posted to Catania for a project involving the demolition of the old central San Berillo neighbourhood and, at the same time, the construction (on lava rock) of new housing for 30,000 inhabitants (known in the literature as the ‘San Berillo deportees’). The project is remembered as a major property speculation, along with the endless legal fallout that followed. From a strictly technical point of view, by comparison, the relocation of the Tamburi neighbourhood in the 1960s would have been a much quicker, simpler and more limited undertaking. Has any official ever considered relocating the residents of Tamburi to better homes, perhaps on one of the state’s public land sites? Is this an Italy of ideology, lacking in courage and pragmatism? Kind regards.
Alberto Laurenti
To the Editor – Much has been said and written about the NRRP regarding what has gone wrong: the delays, the stalled construction sites, the projects that have run aground. Quite rightly so. But every now and then, it is also worth highlighting what has worked. In Fara San Martino, a town of 1,270 inhabitants, the ‘capital of pasta’ and home to De Cecco, nearly 5 million euros from the NRRP have transformed an old school complex into a new school. ‘Scuola Futura’, funded by the Ministry of Education, was demolished and rebuilt on the same site in around two years: a safe, inclusive, innovative and energy-efficient building, designed by two young architects and largely built by local contractors. On Monday 14th, it will open its doors to 120 children and young people, from nursery to secondary school. It is not a major project, but perhaps that is precisely the point: the National Recovery and Resilience Plan (PNRR) was also intended to serve this purpose – to improve the daily lives of small communities. Complaints should be made when necessary. But when European funds are turned into real schools, that story deserves to be told too.
Antonio Tavani, mayor of Fara San Martino