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The icy awakening of the right that does not rejoice because it knows it has to govern

They say that Giorgia Meloni asked her parents not to organize street celebrations on Sunday evening. Maybe, but the truth is that apart from the leaders of the Brothers of Italy, there was no one ready to celebrate anything.

Rarely has there been a colder victory than this: not even a few honks in the streets, a tricolor flag, nothing. And not even the next morning was there the slightest sign of a historical fact, such as the first electoral victory of the far right.

The Italy of September 26th had the same face between the angry and the sleepy of the 24th, nothing new.

An electoral victory, not a popular fact. It happened like this after certain victories of the DC that were taken for granted, and then the Christian Democrats were sober: the people had it but there was no need to warm them up, it was enough to take their votes every five years. The communists, on the other hand, when they were doing well, overthrew their late-revolutionary enthusiasm in the squares, on June 15, 1975, at the Regionals, the taxi drivers made a hellish noise, they were not today’s taxi drivers, there were red flags that enveloped the cars and the restaurant waiters who came out on the sidewalks to greet them with clenched fists. It was a people, and a party.

Even the historic victory of Silvio Berlusconi in ’94 was the starting point of a climate in its own way of casino, caviar and champagne – the famous “let’s do it as the fuck we want” by Corrado Guzzanti – but also of televisions on Channel 5, and down laughter, even that was a popular climate, up to the overflowing of trash but politics was still a physical fact, noise, sweat, tie, festoon, big boy.

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L’Ulivo was then characterized by the loud volume – “Get up, the popular song is rising” – a little Bolognese cheer, a little Romanesque like the two leaders, it was the first time of the left in government, even of the former communists, and it was a paradoxical game of history that the party of the left was in a square named after the Holy Apostles and the officiant was a former Christian Democrat professor with a vaguely pretentious air: but everything was fine.

In the North there were the successes between the epic and the ephemeral by Umberto Bossi first and by Matteo Salvini then celebrated on the lawn or in the villages, wine and polenta and donkey meat, but in short, that too was a people, raucous and noisy.

In these years of the new millennium then we have seen the tremendous tours of Beppe Grillo, all parties with a little something inside of gloomy, anguish as only swear words can be, an ancient and multimedia outlet, sending the universe to that country. something that the people have always done and not in the highest moments of history, but the people were there, and how if there were.

But this time nothing. Friends, are we going to stay at home or else do we miss some Roman greetings? Can be. But what if this people of the right were not there? Or rather, if there was but did not feel the wind of history, just a good victory in the polls, also and above all complicit in the weaknesses of others? What is there to go to the streets with 26 percent?

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It is a right that wins but does not celebrate, it goes to the government as if it were going to the gallows, a prisoner of an basically easy past – just always say no and play the victims – fearful of breaking suddenly with the age of innocence of the elves , gnomes and Tolkien and now called to write decrees, to issue ordinances. A second life sad. With the fear that the people will not give the necessary push to climb this Calvary because they know that there is an indifference around which is not just indifference, but a kind of awareness of the fact that politics is no longer the key to future and not even the everyday, is an ambition for a few and not a road for everyone.

If the left is blatantly losing its connection with the people, not even the winning right warms hearts, not even a young leader returns warmth to the cold of politics. And if in the end the analysis, crude but not false, is enclosed in the affirmation that, quite simply, many people voted for Giorgia like this, why do we now try this too?

Where is the victory then, if the people become people – ordinary people – where is the beating heart of this bureaucratic September 25, where is the historical turning point? Without diminishing the electoral affirmation of the right, perhaps the real turning point lies here: in the icy leaning of politics into our lives right on election day, because tomorrow will be as much as yesterday.

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