We are not used to it.
There has never been even a shadow of fairness since the transitional anti-fascist provision of the italian Constitution hardened into a veritable abusive tumorous polyp that is now claimed to be immovable.
From 1972 onward
we have always lived in the propagandistic and legal climate of the postwar purge, which was revived in order to bring the Communist Party into the governing sphere. As we well know, it turned out that “killing a fascist is not a crime”: almost none of the murderers were convicted, and the very few who could not avoid punishment always saw their crimes downgraded and their sentences turned into a joke.
There is no point in complaining. All this has toughened us and, above all, has exposed the hypocrisy of injustice and how much power relations really matter.
Today, antifascists
are beginning to be sanctioned—not so much by us, where the Meloni government—though it has never bowed to their blackmail—wants to show it will not behave disgracefully as they have always done, but in countries you would not expect: the United States, Germany, France. The latter two are well known for ideological persecutions against the radical right, so this is surprising.
The Germans have prosecuted the Hammerbande, with whom Ilaria Salis used to travel around Europe, as an international terrorist organization and extradited one of their citizens to Hungary, where she was convicted for the vile 2023 attack in Budapest against peaceful and unarmed demonstrators. Other German comrades have taken refuge in Thailand.
In France, after Quentin’s lynching, there were not only seven arrests but also widespread public outrage, which culminated in banning a parliamentary assistant from La France Insoumise from entering the National Assembly—not to mention the public debate over whether Mélenchon’s party should be dissolved. After initially defending Quentin’s killers in some way, Mélenchon had to backtrack, overwhelmed by an unexpected public reaction.
In Italy, the population of the Genoese neighborhood that had been devastated by antifascists suddenly mobilized and signed a massive petition calling for their dissolution.
In the United States, Antifa have long been included on lists of potential terrorists.
What do we owe all this to?
The first factor is the pro-Hamas and “Islamo-leftist” stance, which has irritated not only communities with whom, until recently, the bold Antifa were on good terms, but also the residents of nearly all working-class neighborhoods across Europe. By playing at living-room intifadas, they have dangerously distanced themselves from reality.
The second factor is also a serious detachment from reality.
Shut inside their marginal ghettos and a psychotic bubble, they have trained for years to reenact the biennio rosso (1920-21) or more modestly the 1970s. In this they were encouraged by their most disgraceful accomplices: the purveyors of hatred on the payroll of newspapers or democratic associations.
They organized themselves capillarily: a sort of Erasmus of lynching. They traveled around Europe—not only Italy—to strike, to beat, to kill (five people in three nations). They repeatedly used explosives.
The problem is that—unlike in the 1970s—they did it all on their own.
Not because there is fear or lack of determination on the other side, but because in today’s transformed society there are no longer physical spaces to conquer and hold; everything plays out in a fluid and ethereal challenge.
Therefore, the old excuse that there were “two terrorisms” no longer holds, because on the other side there is less psychopathy and less anachronism than among the foolish Antifa trapped in their criminal delirium.
To keep the “fascist threat” alive, the Soviet-style minorities who coddle and protect these diehards have constantly criminalized the memory of those who were murdered—this, they claim, is the great danger coming from the radical right—while continuing to downplay the killings.
In Milan, they even managed to ban the march in memory of Sergio Ramelli while authorizing the one praising his killers.
The third factor is what Marxism defines as a “lack of correspondence” with reality.
The Communist and progressive ruling class built its power with industrial and military methods and occupied positions of authority that the occupiers pass down among themselves.
The tumorous anomaly of the Italian judiciary—denounced throughout Europe—which, established by from the leader of the Communist Party, Togliatti, who served as Minister of Justice after World War II, has continued for eight decades, is clear evidence. An entire nation, and much of the judiciary itself, are held hostage by a few prosecutors who answer to no one for their arbitrary decisions. On the contrary, they present themselves as legislators and political commissars tasked with re-educating Italians, even voters.
If this ruling class has managed to impose its ideology—as an organized minority that violates the masses—it has nevertheless failed to grasp the full range of societal crises that its ideology can no longer manage. And it has made the mistake of radicalizing woke and gender excesses, accompanying them with tyrannical laws that demonstrate only one thing: how much control they are losing.
Since ruling classes are called upon to mediate between economic interests and mass psychology—but do not themselves determine either—the most extreme and archaic offshoots of progressivism and the communist soul, especially the antifascist circus, no longer have reason to be supported.
In their crisis of correspondence with reality, they have drifted not only from society but also from the dynamics of new powers and broader transformations.
And here comes the factor my son pointed out
Militant antifascists are disliked by almost everyone.
They have never been very popular; on the contrary, they have always been seen for what they are: spoiled rich kids playing at being revolutionaries with arrogance, protected from above and without the slightest ethical sense—replacing it with the ideological justification of being vigilantes against the supposed tyranny in power.
We know well, however, that popular sentiment is one thing and the courage to express it is another.
People have always thought this, but did not dare say it out loud. And what is happening today?
People have an animal instinct: when they know that someone they dislike is powerful, they are careful not to accuse them openly, perhaps sanctioning them silently or at the ballot box instead.
Today, many are openly accusing these foolish criminals; which means they are truly losing ground.