“Italy is poor but the Italians are rich!”, Don’t you think that in this sentence the opinion that many other Europeans have of our country and of us who live there is substantiated? And the consequent reluctance and distrust when we ask for help? It may be that it has a foundation for our way of living beyond the real possibilities, for the countless historical beauties inherited from our ancestors and for our still existing and resistant propensity to save. But should we really be, financially speaking, envied and despised for this? Shouldn’t we also start to be more aware of the risk of the opposite?
Italo Mariani, Tornolo
Rino Formica said it of the Socialist Party: the convent is poor, but the friars are rich. We can say the same today in our country: Italy is poor, but Italians are rich.
I remember when I spent three months in Tunisia to follow the agony and the death of Bettino Craxi: they hit the streets of Tunis and Hammamet, ramshackle, full of holes. Just like the streets of Rome today. Then look behind the gates, beyond the walls, and see houses that the Germans, the Americans, the Swiss dream of. But put a penny of the private wealth of the Romans to plug the holes, right? I know the answer: no. Because the Romans know that that money would not go to plug the holes, but to finance salary increases for the leaders of Ama or Atac, which are more numerous and better paid than those of NASA.
The fact remains that Italy, in proportion to the number of inhabitants, has two records among the great European countries: public debt (2409 billion); and private savings (4374 billion of financial wealth of households, against 926 billion of liabilities; to which must be added 1.840 billion of financial assets of non-financial corporations, more obviously those of financial corporations).
In summary: Italy remains one of the richest countries in the world. Unfortunately large capitals are often unfaithful. An asset today would not affect the real rich, who in many cases have made almost everything safe in tax havens or in any case abroad, but the middle class, already weakened by the crisis.
OTHER LETTERS OF TODAY
“My father prisoner, returned on June 2, 1946”
My father, Aldo Farinati, born in Lizzanella on December 2, 1920, after living from 1923 to 1937 near Toulouse in the south of France, where his family had emigrated, in September 1939 he left for military service, entering the 62nd Regiment Motorized Infantry – Trento Division. After various training camps in the Val di Fiemme and on the slopes of the Veronese Baldo Group, he was transferred to Cavour in Piedmont, on the French front. The Second World War has unfortunately begun. On March 13, 1941, the entire Division sails from Naples to Tripoli: he and tens of thousands of other young people are called to fight on the coasts of North Africa, between Tunisia, Libya and Egypt. The challenge between Rommel and Montgomery has alternate results, unfortunately the constant is only the death of many young people. In late summer 1943 he was taken prisoner by British troops and transferred by ship to Glasgow. After a few days inside the historic wooden stadium in the Scottish city, he was transferred to a work camp in Ashford, near Stock on Trent, in the heart of England. He remains there for almost three years, has the merit of learning English, makes many friends even among the young people of the place. On the basis of the agreements signed by the States after the end of the conflict, my father and the other Italians can return home at the end of May 1946. He arrived in Rovereto on June 2, 1946. After six and a half years he embraced his mother Eletta, his father Mario and the brothers Ugo, Ivonne, Giancarlo and Gina, and immediately went to vote. For the Republic of course, he socialist from a very young age.
Paolo Farinati, [email protected]
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