through europe

Appoggiato sulla balaustra del palazzo dei congressi, vedo il bus partire.
Ho evitato di attendere la partenza alla fermata per non sembrare troppo… diciamo ridicolo, anche se non è il termine migliore. Voglio evitare di dare l’idea di quello che si prende subito per la prima ragazza che gli presta attenzione, ma…  se ho passato tutta la notte in giro per Parigi assieme ai compagni di Rimini è perché Sabrina e i suoi occhi mi avevano stregato. Meglio non starci a pensare.

      This is the transcript of the seminar "From Tute Bianche to the Book Bloc: the Italian movement and the coming European insurrection". [italian version]

It seems a century has gone by since the political season of the Tute Bianche (White Overalls), but it was only a little over ten years ago. Ten years in which much has happened. Despite the historical shifts that have taken place in these past ten years, rebellious students in Rome and in London last autumn endorsed the experience of conflict invented by the Tute Bianche: shields and helmets for body protection; violation of the red zones and of the headquarters of institutional political power, barricaded behind their edifices, with no democratic relationship with society.

Andavamo dal macellaio a Fueihat, nella zona Est di Bengasi. Non mi piaceva entrare dal macellaio, c’era un odore pesante, le carcasse appese a grossi uncini di acciaio, il sangue gocciolava sulle piastrelle chiare dei pavimenti, le teste di pecora scuoiate ci guardavano con gli occhi sbarrati. Preferivo stare in macchina, a Milano i macellai non erano così, a Milano la morte era celata. Invece alla macelleria di Saad andavo volentieri, Saad aveva incollato delle vecchie foto in un angolo della vetrinetta, lo scotch era ingiallito, pensai che le foto dovevano avere un gran freddo nel reparto frigo, che qui paesaggi della Bengasi antica, pieni di palme verdeggianti e giovani in maglietta non dovevano passarsela bene a 6 gradi, da 30 anni…

Recently, I have been asked several times by Italian friends and comrades to talk about the British student movement. I must confess that their questions always made me feel slightly embarrassed.
At first, I tried to forget about this uncomfortable feeling, talking about the rise of a new civic participation, which had been lacking in this country since the 1980s, with the brief exception of the anti-war movement of 2003. Then, in my heart of hearts, I tried to offer to my embarrassment the acknowledgment that in the UK, at the moment, there is not a ‘movement’ as such, rather a constellation of small groups and organizations.

Mass Zynismus

In his book The courage of truth  (Le courage de la verité), a transcript of lectures delivered at the College de France in 1984, Michel Foucault speaks of Diogenes and the other ancient philosophers known as cynicists and defines their thought as the practice of telling the truth (parresia).  Twenty-five years later, the word cynicism has acquired a totally different meaning, almost opposite: the cynic is someone routinely lying to everyone, especially him or herself.