“Meloni isn’t sure whether to go to the polls first”. At the traffic lights with Garofani

At the traffic lights with Francesco Saverio Garofani, Mattarella’s adviser, the man behind the ‘shake-up’. Stop, it’s red. The ‘passer-by’ from the Colle speaks. Will Meloni stand for election in October 2027? “She doesn’t even know herself; the situation is fluid and uncertain. Meloni hasn’t decided yet. In my view, she’s taking it one step at a time.” And what will the Quirinale do? “We’ll take note.” If Meloni wants an election day? “We’ll take note.” If Meloni wants to go to the polls in October? “We’ll take note. We need to know what she wants. The Quirinale doesn’t actually decide; it can only take note.” On the zebra crossings of Via del Corso, we note that at the Quirinale they prefer to walk and like not having to pay road tax (bipartisan). Garofani loves those who stroll and, like the philosophers, hopes for a civilised law that encourages walking and leaving the car behind: “That would be lovely”. Luck favours pedestrians.

Meloni has abolished the car tax, but Mattarella’s men – that line of men with monk-like beards, Christian Democrats – still prefer the sway of the leg, the September sun. It was November 2025 when Francesco Saverio Garofani, the pedestrian we meet, together with his comrade-in-arms Minzolini, found himself at the centre of an unfortunate affair. During a private dinner on the terraces of Rome, the official from the Colle lowered his guard among his Roma-supporting friends, sharing what he described as “wonderful thoughts” and veiled remarks. Garofani said it would be “lovely to have a providential shake-up”. In Verità (the newspaper that had broken the story), Garofani was hoping for a shake-up on the left; only, as everyone knows, the left prefers the idleness of the ZTL. Garofani, the pedestrian, was literally overwhelmed by the uncharitable controversy and the car horns of the right. Now that time has passed, we spot Garofani, the pedestrian, in the midst of a crowd of Chinese people, with ice-cream cones dripping embarrassingly. Garofani, the pedestrian, stands smugly motionless as the traffic light turns amber. We ask the pedestrian: ‘Meloni has scrapped the road tax – what do you think?’ Pedestrian Garofani makes it clear he approves: ‘I’m bipartisan. I’ve got a Volvo and a Panda. I pay for one and not the other.’ It’s a good start. The pedestrian confesses to us that the flow of ideas in Italy is non-existent. The pedestrian’s confession: “The only thing that’s certain is that there’s a great deal of confusion. I’m appalled by the reactions in Italy to von der Leyen’s speech: there were none. It was a speech of the very highest calibre; even Canada’s accession to the EU as a member ruffled Trump’s feathers. Here, however, there’s only silence from both the right and the left – bipartisan silence.” We discuss the latest developments on the left, regarding Conte, Ukraine and the difficulties (the ATAC bus revs its engine, heedless of this lofty, Quirinal-style conversation). The passer-by reflects: “It’s incredible how, in foreign policy, there is no responsible line shared within both coalitions. It wasn’t like that in the past. I’m still shocked by it because I’m a man of the First Republic. And I’m glad to be one. People used to comment on such things.” The throng of mercenary tourists hinders the civility of conversation, the Western exchange of ideas. We suggest to the pedestrian the need to launch a major campaign to encourage the Italian people to use public transport, to walk, to give up their cars, and Garofani applauds, along with the traffic light: “A law encouraging us all to walk would have been better.” The lights have turned green and the pedestrian walks away. Nietzsche says: “All great thoughts are conceived whilst walking.” Do you understand why the Left hasn’t found a unifying figure? The problem is the shoe.