Reading the Walls of San Lorenzo: The Story of Ilaria

 

This wall of signs and posters is at the entrance to the tunnel under railroad tracks that lead to Stazione Termini, not far away. On the other side of the tunnel is the beginning of via Tiburtina and the leftist community of San Lorenzo. The Palestinian flag is prominently featured, and Romans will recognize the Rai poster of their Prime Minister, Giorgia Meloni, astride an arm in full Fascist salute. But who is Ilaria? And why does Ilaria need to be "free" (libera)?

Ilaria is Ilaria Salis, a 39-year-old Italian woman activist, arrested in Budapest, Hungary in February, 2023 for having attacked some militants of Hungary's extreme right who were participating in a demonstration. What actually happened is unclear, but Rome's daily newspaper Il Messaggero reports that those presumably attacked never filed charges and were judged to have been recovered from their injuries within 5 to 8 days.

The legal process against Salis was initiated in January, 2024. She appeared in court in handcuffs and ankle chains, setting off international concerns about the way she was being treated. At the time, right-wing Meloni intervened with her even more right-wing Hungarian counterpart, Viktor Orbán, as did other Italian officials. (Given Meloni's reputation as the "Orbán whisperer," it's surprising to us she wasn't more successful in freeing the leftist politico.) 

But Salis's request to be allowed to leave jail for house arrest was rejected--for the third time. In May, 2024, her request was approved, and she now resides in Budapest in the apartment of someone she doesn't know who volunteered to host her. Although her Italian and Hungarian attorneys hope for her release in the near future, she risks a sentence of up to 24 years, and her time in domicile counts for only 1/5 of the same time in prison.

Under house arrest, Salis will be able to communicate quite freely with contacts in Italy and will be able to participate in an electoral campaign, an important consideration because she is a candidate for the European parliament, as a member of the Avs party, a federation of the Italian left and Green Europe. If she is elected--voting is next weekend, June 8 and 9--it appears she would be granted immunity from prosecution and presumably be released.  Postscript: Ilaria Salis was elected to the European parliament. Her release is anticipated, though it is not guaranteed. 

Bill 

Rome's Election Billboards: Dinosaurs in the Age of Social Media?

 

This set of billboards, on via Tiburtina across from the Verano cemetery, is one of many in Rome intended for the the display of large political posters ("maxi-manifesti") that for decades have been a part of Rome's electoral campaigns, in this case European parliamentary elections that will take place in June. 

They are installed every year about this time on the city's sidewalks, which are mostly asphalt, then removed after the elections. Some say they interfere with the movement of pedestrians (especially those with disabilities), others that the installation process can damage the sidewalks. It is clear that they are costly; the cost each year to Rome taxpayers is about 300,000 Euro, or about $325,000. There are more than 5,000 of them, distributed in 166 locations within the 15 local jurisdictions in the capital. 

But the most interesting criticism is that they are increasingly irrelevant in an age when political communication takes place not through posters but on the social media, not to mention radio and television. A recent article in the Rome daily newspaper, Il Messaggero, describes the billboards as "immortal," resisting the inevitable: AI. One city official calls the billboards "medieval," an epithet that wouldn't have much resonance for Americans, but means something to Europeans. 

In 2023 critics advanced a proposal to eliminate the billboards. It failed because to do so would require changing a 1956 national law that established and underpins the system. 

Bill 

The set of billboards at center left have just been installed; they've been cleaned of old posters.

This set of billboards has also been recently installed, but already someone has put up posters for a trans/non-binary demonstration--probably an "illegal" poster.  

DAJE! A note on the mayoral election in Rome

It's election time in Italy.  Romans are going to the polls today (Sunday) and tomorrow, to elect, among other officials, a mayor for the city.   You'll be relieved to know that we have no desire or intention to discuss the candidates (there are 19, 4 of them serious), parties, or issues. 

The candidates campaign by holding big rallies in Rome's piazzas, and by postering.  The posters usually have a picture of the candidate and something about how that candidate is one of us and will represent the people and make life better.  Blah blah.  One poster, especially, intrigued us.   It belonged to mayoral candidate Ignazio Marino, a bland surgeon representing the center-left.  It said only DAJE.  Daje?  What's that, we wondered?

Daje, we discovered, is Roman dialect for the Italian word "dai," which means "go," as when your kid has the soccer ball and you yell "dai."  Daje is pronounced "daayeh."  Besides "go," it can mean "hurry up," or "OK" (as in 'Ci vediamo stasera?' 'Daje' [See you this evening?  OK].  Or even, and perhaps essentially, 'Fuck yeah!', expressing the excitement of a soccer fan rooting for the Roma team: 'Daje Roma!'  (Tonight is the final of the Coppa Italia; 'daje' will be heard a lot.) 

We'll find out soon if Marino's sophisticated sloganeering has won him the job. 

Bill