Gianfranco Paglia does not consider himself a hero. A patriot, perhaps, but not a hero. Gianfranco Paglia is fifty-six years old; he is a senior military officer who served for many years in the famous 186th ‘Folgore’ Parachute Regiment, and his life changed on 2 July 1993, when in Mogadishu, during a United Nations humanitarian mission, his platoon intervened to free some Italian vehicles that had been trapped in an ambush orchestrated by Somali militiamen. It all happened in a matter of moments. Just a few flashes. The wounded were evacuated in his armoured vehicle. The decision to return to the area of the fighting to support the withdrawal of the other units. The women and children who suddenly appeared before him. The decision not to return fire immediately to avoid a massacre. The sudden movement as he leaned out of the vehicle to better direct the action and save the other soldiers. The moment he was struck repeatedly by snipers. The injuries that left him permanently unable to use his legs. The comrades he saved. Those who died. Gianfranco Paglia does not consider himself a hero: “The heroes are the friends who died that day, not me.” But a patriot – perhaps he does accept that – and when he speaks of it, when he mentions patriots, when he reflects on patriotism, he does not have a demagogic agenda in mind. He has a clear idea of what it means to be prepared to die for one’s country. Gianfranco Paglia welcomes us in Rome at number 14 Viale dell’Amba Aradam, a long stretch of tarmac linking Piazza San Giovanni with Porta Metronia. These are the offices of those awarded the Gold Medal for Military Valour. Small, unassuming, quiet. Long corridors lined with memorabilia, documents, testimonies, images and stories. Paglia welcomes us into his office. His gaze is lively and cheerful, set against a face that looks concerned. Paglia knows why we are there and has agreed to speak with us to discuss a topic that is at once political, cultural and military. What it means to be a patriot today. What it means to recognise one’s enemies today. What it means to defend our country today. What it means to combat the patriotism of impostors. Of one in particular. Whose first name is Roberto. And whose surname is Vannacci. “It’s not hard to understand. Being a patriot means serving the country. Some do it in uniform, some do it with a pen, some do it in a white coat. We do it through our work. We’re no better than others; we’re just different from others because we’re prepared to give our lives to honour that oath. That’s what being a patriot means: loving one’s country, respecting it, not betraying it.” Paglia smiles; he knows we’re beating about the bush, but he’s not afraid to speak his mind. We ask him, without malice: how do you recognise a non-patriot who calls themselves one? “I think there are many ways to recognise them. Many, countless ways. The simplest way is to focus on one thing: when you should do something for your neighbour and you don’t. Choosing not to do something for others means showing them disrespect. You can see it in the little things. A non-patriot is someone who shirks their duty, someone who parks in a disabled bay when they aren’t disabled, someone who makes gratuitous remarks against women or homosexuals, someone who shows disrespect to others, someone who fails to honour the uniform they wear and have worn.”
Is someone a patriot who, faced with external threats – faced with the Russian threat – chooses to look the other way? “No, they aren’t.” Pause. “You see, in the historical period we are living through, the greatest difficulty is explaining to young people what is happening. I often visit schools, talk to pupils and engage with them. And I often see not fear but disbelief in their eyes: how is it possible to keep talking about wars? Whenever I have the chance, I try to speak in simple terms. I try to explain that, today, defending ourselves does not mean preparing for war: it means not giving an advantage to those who want to attack us. I try to explain that, if we believe in peace, we must learn to defend ourselves; that we get nowhere on our own; that to defend ourselves, we need more Europe. And that, to defend ourselves, we must invest not in a culture of the white flag but in a culture of responsibility. How can anyone fail to understand that, to prevent wars, we must strengthen NATO? How can anyone fail to understand that, when dangers arise, we cannot simply look the other way? How can anyone fail to understand just how hypocritical it is to outsource the defence of peace to the United Nations? How can one fail to understand that, if we want a Europe that is more independent of Trump, we must invest more in European defence, not in an alternative European defence system to NATO, because the only way to have a stronger Europe is to have a stronger NATO in Europe?’ Paglia shakes his head, looks down, strokes his cheeks as if to comfort himself, and then continues. “I regret that some former military personnel, now in politics, are making strong statements claiming that it is wrong to defend oneself, that it is wrong to regard Putin’s threat as such, that it is wrong to use European defence funds – the SAFE instrument – and that they claim there is no danger of Russia attacking. I’m sorry to hear that; it pains me. How can anyone give in to this propaganda? How can anyone pit military spending against welfare spending? How can anyone fail to understand that security is the umbrella that protects us from all the storms of the world?’ Are we talking about Vannacci? ‘Let’s talk about Vannacci, all right. Look, I have respect for everyone. I even have respect for the person who shot me in the back: we were at war; in war, ambushes happen – they’re part and parcel of it – and I’ve never regretted sacrificing my legs rather than killing those women and children behind whom the militias were hiding, in Somalia. Respect for everyone, truly. I just find it incredible that anyone who has worn the uniform can play the patriotism card just to scrape together a few votes. And I find it incredible – if I may be completely honest – that anyone who has worn the uniform for a long time can allow a dangerous message to be conveyed: that the army thinks the same way I do. That’s not the case. It’s a lie. I have chosen to break my silence to remind people that those who today speak loudly about their rank speak for themselves and for those who support them, not for those who honour these uniforms every day of their lives.” Speaking of falsehoods: to what extent does the fact that some people deny Russia is a problem stem from Russian propaganda? “I don’t think it’s just propaganda. I think cunning, ignorance and a lack of knowledge of the facts also play a part. The war in Ukraine began in 2014, when Russia illegally occupied and annexed Crimea and fuelled the conflict in the Donbas. The West creates the conditions for wars to proliferate when it retreats, when it turns a blind eye, when it creates power vacuums. This was unfortunately the case in Ukraine, where it had already been clear since 2014 what a Russia left free to invade its neighbours might do. It was unfortunately the case in the Middle East, where the United Nations – as we have sadly also seen in Lebanon – has been unable to stop further wars. I wouldn’t say that ‘white-flag pacifism’, as you call it, is dangerous. I respect everyone: pacifists, conscientious objectors, NGOs, and peacemakers around the world. And I shall never tire of taking my hat off to incredible organisations such as Médecins Sans Frontières. My reasoning is simple. Nobody likes war. But if we want peace, it is sometimes necessary to use force. And if we know that defending peace requires the use of force, we must also recognise that, in order to have the strength to defend ourselves, we need to invest in security and defence.”
Gianfranco Paglia speaks with the insight of someone who knows the world of military uniforms and the army, but he also speaks with the insight of someone who knows the world of politics and the world of defence. Paglia – who, in 1997, despite his disability, returned to active service in the army and who, in 2013, rejoined the service as a lieutenant-colonel in the ‘Garibaldi’ Bersaglieri Brigade – stood as a candidate in the 2008 general election for the Chamber of Deputies with the People of Freedom party. In 2010, he joined the parliamentary group ‘Future and Freedom for Italy’. In the February 2013 elections, he stood again with FlI for the Chamber of Deputies, but was not re-elected. In 2013, he became an adviser to Defence Minister Mario Mauro; he was subsequently appointed as an adviser by Minister Roberta Pinotti; then, in 2019, he was appointed as an adviser by Minister Lorenzo Guerini; and today he is an adviser to Defence Minister Guido Crosetto. And in light of his experience, he states, in no uncertain terms, that Italy must realise just how ill-prepared it still is to face the major challenges posed by the enemies of freedom. “I wonder whether those who criticise the NATO benchmarks for defence spending realise that, in the event of an attack, Italy would have enough ammunition to last just one week. One week. I wonder whether those who criticise the NATO benchmarks realise just how far behind Europe is in the battle over drones. I also wonder whether those who engage in demagoguery on defence realise that investing in defence also means investing in the safety of the Armed Forces. Back in 1993, I was wearing a fragmentation-resistant vest. If I’d had a bulletproof vest, I’d still be walking today. Increasing military spending also means this: not preparing for war, but preparing to defend ourselves better than we do today. Last year I had the pleasure of meeting the creator of the VTLM, the famous Lince, nicknamed ‘San Lince’ because it has saved a great many young people. He is retired and over seventy years old. He was in tears as he told me what he had witnessed during his lifetime. And he wept as he told me that it was the increase in defence spending that enabled him to build a vehicle fitted with armour capable of protecting those on board when a mine explodes.” Gianfranco Paglia sifts through his memories; when he speaks of times gone by, he tilts his head back, as if he were retrieving a frame from the past with his gaze, from the film of his life. He weaves together thoughts, ideas, facts, solutions and food for thought. But when he returns to talking about the past and about Italy, he cannot help but return to the subject of Roberto Vannacci. And Paglia’s, in a certain sense, is a mission: to unmask the impostor; to demonstrate that when the general speaks, he does not speak on behalf of the army. “As far as I know them, the Italian Armed Forces are not represented by Vannacci’s views. Those who serve in the Armed Forces do not judge people by whom they love, by the colour of their skin or by their sexual orientation; they do not insult women; they do not treat their fellow human beings or foreigners as enemies from whom to protect themselves. We must make it clear that the Armed Forces are different from how a general – who is now involved in politics and does not represent the Armed Forces – would like to portray them. It can happen – it has happened to me too – that one moves from the Armed Forces into politics. But when one makes this transition, one must not exploit one’s military status, as Roberto Vannacci is doing.”
Is Roberto Vannacci a patriot? “At the moment, he is free to say and think whatever he likes. My duty, however, given the uniform I wear, is to explain that a patriot is someone who defends their homeland, not someone who acts to make it more vulnerable to external threats. Not to mention the story of the X, the Decima Mas.” In what sense? “I believe that the exploitative use of the Decima was a sign of disrespect towards those who gave their lives for the country. For all those soldiers who have inherited those traditions, such as the Comsubin commandos, the elite unit of the Italian Navy. When the Comsubin commandos shout ‘Decima!’ before throwing red roses towards the Altar of the Fatherland during the 2 June parade, they do so solely to commemorate the courage of the deep-sea divers and submariners from the period 1940–1943. There is nothing fascist about it, as some have sought to suggest: it is a sign of respect for the fallen, for those who died so that we might enjoy the freedom we have today. It is painful to see someone who has long served their country in uniform forget their history.” Malizia: When General Paglia hears Roberto Vannacci talking about defence, doesn’t he get the impression he’s listening to the leader of the Five Star Movement, Giuseppe Conte? “I fear the phrase ‘One more scholarship and five fewer rifles’ could be attributed equally to both politicians.” Paglia smiles, pauses, rewinds the tape and recalls an episode from 2013. He says it was from that moment that he built a special relationship with Giorgia Meloni. He says it was then that Giorgia Meloni told him that someone like Paglia is a national treasure. But he says that since then many things have changed and that today, in a world steeped in demagoguery, making one’s contribution could become a necessity. “I spend a lot of time visiting schools; I see young people, I see how they view us, and I see the risk that the words of a former general might be mistaken for the views of the armed forces. I’ve heard many pupils and teachers ask: ‘How can you allow the idea to take hold that the views of a former general are the views of the army?’” If she were asked to stand for election – to send a message, to restore order, to try to do for the country what she does in schools – would she consider it? “It would be my duty to consider it. If a proposal were ever to come my way, I would assess it.” Paglia looks at us, pauses, glances towards the press officer, and receives a nod of approval for the words she has used: no fear, no mincing of words, no ambiguity. Then he glances at his watch, wondering how on earth a newspaper could possibly have the space to include all his words; we signal to him not to worry – we’re used to it; we tend to ramble a bit when we write – and he picks up the thread and returns to the subject. Always him. The general. Paglia says: “And we haven’t talked about remigration.” In what sense? “It’s a word I wouldn’t even call fascist. It’s a word I would unhesitatingly describe as the offspring of a Nazi-fascist worldview. Words carry weight. If you choose to use that word, ‘remigration’, you’re using a word that evokes deportation; deportation evokes round-ups; and round-ups evoke what we know. An Italian citizen of foreign origin cannot be treated as having fewer rights than an Italian citizen without a foreign background. Talking about repatriation is one thing, talking about how to enforce it is another, and talking about the need to manage illegal immigration is yet another matter altogether. Talking about ‘remigration’ is a deliberate choice. It means alluding to a certain worldview. A world in which the only ‘-ism’ that has a place is extremism, not patriotism. The military do not think that way. The military think differently. If I tell you that I respect the person who shot at me, how can I say that I do not respect the person who comes here looking for work?”
Time is up. We ask Paglia if there is anything he has never revealed about the ambush. He replies that there is, but adds that he will never reveal it. We then ask him what he tells the pupils when he visits schools, what he says to them, and how he explains it to them. He says that in schools, when he talks about the ambush in Somalia, he emphasises one decision in particular. That day, the Italian soldiers found themselves facing women and children throwing stones, whilst armed men, hidden behind them, opened fire. The Italians, Paglia recalls, did not react immediately, because firing back would have meant causing a massacre. Paglia explains this to the pupils using the example of Call of Duty: if you don’t shoot, you lose; in reality, however, shooting can mean betraying one’s values. That delay came at a very high price. Paglia says that, had he reacted immediately, he might still be walking today, but adds that had he acted otherwise, he would not have been able to talk about values to his family or look at himself in the mirror. The shots came first from the front and then from every direction, even though it would initially have been possible to break away. For Paglia, this is precisely what sets the Italian soldier apart: not choosing the easy way out, but remaining true to one’s principles even when it comes at a cost. “I believe that a patriot can only do good, because what matters is not forgetting the meaning of one’s role in the world. One must remember this even when one’s role changes, when one is no longer in the military. A patriot is never extreme. A patriot fights for others. A patriot fights for freedom. And anyone who loves freedom and this uniform today cannot help but ask themselves whether there is anything to be done to defend our freedom by unmasking the impostors of patriotism.”