been more than sixty years but the truth, the story of a holocaust (real this time!) involving most of the population of Istria, Fiume and Dalmatia, could not come infoibato forever. While the worthy heirs of the killers and criminals will meet tomorrow for their usual squalid and principals anti-fascists, the last gasps of an ideology that only bankruptcy and bloody in the exaltation of violence (his) and its crimes is today its raison d'etre, who have at heart the honor the country will gather tomorrow in a moment of silence, to bring honor and respect those who gave their lives for the sole and simple fact of being Italian.
is a real holocaust, that of the sinkholes. But is a holocaust of series B. That other, the most famous, did the honors of the limelight because of a feared lobby is so powerful that even nameless, who literally shielded the official in whose name continues to claim reparations, to demand an apology ever due, to be imprisoned thinkers and historians who have the right to be against and not believe in dogmas.
Ve la dovete immaginare, la tragedia delle foibe. Ve la potete solo immaginare. Perché contrariamente a quell’altro, questo olocausto non gode di speciali TV in prima serata, non ci sono testimoni oculari che piagnucolano davanti ai microfoni di giornalisti conniventi, non ci sono i parenti degli esuli che chiedono risarcimenti miliardari agli Stati (in primis la Jugoslavia) colpevoli, non ci sono lobby potenti che riescono a mettervi in galera se negate che una precisa operazione di pulizia etnica, per liberare le terre istriane e fiumane dalla presenza italiana, abbia avuto luogo. Questo, abbiamo detto, è un olocausto di serie B. E allora siete voi che dovete provare a fare uno sforzo imagination. Think about the Yugoslav partisans who carry out house to house, holding the listings that have completed their worthy comrades, the Italian partisans. Think about the shootings, the rapes, torture against women, children and elderly who were practiced in the name of communism and atavistic hatred against Italy. Think of the priests were shot, hung on lamp posts to politicians of the streets, the boys who gave their lives only for the last bold act, replacing the hated red flag with the flag. And think of the body, sometimes still alive, horribly tortured, bound to each other with barbed wire and then thrown down into those that are very deep karst gorge chiamate foibe. Provate ad immaginare quei carri stracarichi, tirati da poveri animali spossati e stanchissimi, che portano via persone e cose, per sfuggire alla tragedia. Pensate a tutti coloro che, presi dal terrore e dalla paura, lasciano la loro casa e la loro terra per cercare rifugio in una Italia ingrata, che spesso li ha stipati in veri e propri lager a cielo aperto improvvisati qui e lì per le varie città del nord Italia, negando addirittura una memoria. Pensate ai figli che cercano di portare via a forza i propri genitori, spesso anziani che non vogliono rassegnarsi e lasciare la propria terra, prima dell’arrivo dei titini nelle città cosiddette liberate dal Fascismo. Pensate agli esuli che guardano dal finestrino dei treni che entrano in Station hostile demonstrations organized by the Communists and their lackeys who insult them and mock them: bastards, we have brought socialism at home, we give you a taste of the Soviet paradise, and you run away! Fascists!
is a tragedy that, in the name of anti-communism, and has been hidden for decades. And writer well remembers the insults and taunts at school who had to undergo when he tried to talk about certain topics you're a fool, a liar, a braggart. And the history books, still largely devoted to anti-fascist cause, very little could help, given that hid and still hide those crimes.
The bodies of the Italians killed were massacred by Tito several times. And the memory of those who had to flee once more. Many criminals Italian partisans, who often have actively participated in tuna fishing, also received pensions, gold medals are inscribed with glory in the streets, squares and monuments. Murderers, who for decades have received pensions and benefices of every kind by a state infamous, cowardly and complicit, as the Italian market since 1945.
We stopped their ears not to hear the vile communist propaganda that for decades in this part infects the whole of Italy, uncouth, irreverent and hysterical as only our common can be, and will dedicate ourselves to think, maybe in a corner of our home, our dead, to our holocaust that deserves be remembered and cried. We like to think that our deaths, if they will be watching from somewhere, can not but give pleasure.
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