In mid December 1969 a blast struck the offices of Banca Nazionale dell Agricutra in central Milan, claiming 17 lives and wounding 88. The event had circulated through Italian universities and factories as part of the late 1960s revolts that seemed to reshape the world. Yet later findings revealed a different truth. The massacre concealed a struggle where geopolitical interests and neo-fascist forces sought to curb the rising Italian Communist Party and destabilize the Cold War order.
In the hours following the attack, the Milan police political brigade led by Commissioner Luigi Calabresi arrested many militants. Among those detained was Giuseppe Pinelli, an anarchist worker who had established a confidential working relationship with Calabresi, aiding negotiations to organize demonstrations and meetings. On December 15 Pinelli died after an alleged fall from Calabresi’s office window during questioning. The extra-parliamentary left press immediately blamed the commissioner and launched years of harassment that drew support from writers and political figures. The Italian Nobel laureate Dario Fo, in his work Accidental Death of an Anarchist, drew inspiration from this tragedy.
Calabresi was later assassinated in 1972 by militants from the radical organization Lotta Continua. Court proceedings later showed he was not necessarily in his office when Pinelli fell. The family endured years of hardship amid the so-called bullets years, the era of political violence through the 70s and 80s. The eldest son of Calabresi, Mario, became a notable journalist who led a major progressive newspaper in Italy for a time. Adriano Sofri, leader of Lotta Continua, was imprisoned as the mastermind in the murder, with three others convicted alongside him.
There is a book that delves into these events and their aftermath, chronicling the personal toll on the family and the broader public debate in Italy. The work draws on the long arc of memory and justice, arguing that the victims deserve acknowledgment beyond political discussions about terrorism and how ex terrorists might be reintegrated into society. It argues for a voice in the national conversation that centers the dead and their relatives, not only the political narratives that followed the violence.
Where does this book originate from: pain, reflection, or the urge to hold history to account? The author explains that the book was written decades after the father’s death to ensure the victims were not forgotten. It seeks to contrast the prevalent focus on political outcomes with a commitment to truth and justice for those who suffered. The author notes the scarcity of perspectives from victims and families in most literature on the era and asserts the need for a different, more personal voice in the debate.
Was writing used as a form of therapy? The author describes emotional moments during the writing process and acknowledges its therapeutic effect. The text highlights that the book resonated with the public, influencing national discourse and prompting institutional actions, including commemorations for terrorism victims and related remembrance initiatives.
Was this confrontation with the past something that happened before? The author notes a shift in public conversation, away from repeating interviews with terrorists to including the voices of victims and their families on anniversaries and in media coverage.
Is loneliness a core feeling for victims or their families? The author cites a deep sense of neglect and invisibility, a sentiment reflected in the legal recognition of victims years later and a sense of deeper social forgetting that lingered for decades.
Did the author feel solitary in this struggle? The text describes a sense of isolation, and recalls a long period when society treated the events as a private burden rather than a public matter. More than 30 years passed since the father’s death before a formal law recognizing victims of terrorism emerged.
Notions of accountability and memory
One theme centers on not insisting that every former participant in armed action remains a perpetual figure of violence. Instead the book argues for distinguishing between past conflict and ongoing accountability, stressing that forgiveness has personal dimensions while justice remains essential for those who were harmed.
The narrative includes a personal journey to confront the man who organized the father’s murder. As the author pursued this encounter in Paris, the respondent appeared frail and ready to speak, offering answers and a chance to close a painful chapter. The meeting was described as a turning point, providing a chance to lay some questions to rest and to help the family move forward.
The author reflects on whether intellectuals linked to the era offered serious self critique. While some did, others did not, and the piece argues that a more thorough examination of actions and responsibilities was necessary for genuine closure.
Is there any doubt about who bore responsibility for the murder? The broader social record is clear to many, yet voices connected to those involved often remain cautious. Over time, many sources have chosen silence, while some admit near certainty when discussing events in private—though seldom on the record.
Did anyone apologize or provide explanation? The text notes mixed outcomes, with some admissions but no comprehensive public reckoning.
Is the full truth of the lead years already known, or are there shadows? The author uses a metaphor of Byzantine mosaics: from a distance the design is obvious, but up close many fragments are missing. Some pieces of truth about the father’s case remain unclear, including who played certain roles and how they were connected to the murder and its aftermath. The sense remains that others in public life may have influence or knowledge without clear accountability.
Does the current political climate reflect a return to the shadows of the lead years? The author expresses skepticism about linking contemporary politicians to fascism, while arguing that contemporary leaders must answer for historical ties to neo-fascist history to avoid repeating past wrongs.