Reflections on Remembrance Day

Author : Ezio Guercin

February 10, 1947 is a "heavy" date that had a profound impact, like a watershed, on the fate of the Italian component of the Eastern Adriatic. That day it bit us, it left a deep wound in the spirit and flesh of our people. The existence of that offshoot of the Italian people present for centuries, with its Istrian, Venetian and Latin roots, on the edge of a disputed border, has profoundly and forever marked our consciences. That day the "remainers" became a minority: not only from a numerical and demographic point of view, but above all from a social, economic and political one. The community that was unable, unable or unwilling to take the path of exile was placed in conditions of total subordination. Thus began a difficult journey marked by the will and power of the new majorities, by the conditioning of a reality in which our language and our culture have been gradually marginalized. The great mass of the displaced, on the other hand, has suddenly become a "people without land", a community forever uprooted from its own world. A people torn from their homes, from their loved ones; deprived of the right to continue living where they were born, the only place where they can truly continue to be themselves.  Both »foreigners« and »different« we have been left without a place where we can truly feel »at home«; we have become »guests« (us in our birthplaces, the exoduses in a distant homeland) of new realities. We have shared the same fate: that - albeit in different ways - of the "uprooted", people to whom history has denied the right to fully recognize themselves in their native environment, to live without tragic solutions of continuity in their own home.  »Foreigners« in relation to a homeland that was welcoming us or from which new borders were separating us. Reunited in the common fate of people deprived, in terms of identity, of their place in the world. The exodus acted as a shear not only between the exiles and the land they left behind, but also between those who "went" and those who "remained." A fracture in consciences that in many cases did not allow the exiles to fully process, over the years, the weight and suffering of separation and therefore to develop a new relationship with those "left behind", with the lost environment. For many, things have remained fixed, immutable, irreparable. The exodus has crystallized every position, precluded every possibility: its scars, having become hard as stones, have not allowed (in many cases, and fortunately not always) that something new could blossom from that experience. The most atrocious and absurd punishment of exile was precisely this: the division of our community, the deep laceration - imposed by the blackmail of ideologies, powers and States - among the Italians of the eastern Adriatic, scattered - and harshly tested - heirs of a centuries-old presence and civilization. Today we have the duty to become aware of the harmful effects caused by this detachment and the need to overcome it once and for all.  The »toxins« of history have penetrated deeply into our tissues and therefore the project of a real and complete »recomposition« certainly does not appear easy. However, in many respects this process is already underway, the result of a rapidly changing climate and the sensitivity of the new generations. But we are seriously late: social and political reality is changing faster than our consciences. In a few months, with Croatia's entry into the European Union, an important horizon will open up: that of the demolition of borders and the definitive integration, within the community, of a large part of the Adriatic, that is, of our historically settled territory. We must take up this challenge prepared, starting together, exiles and minority, a great project that, in addition to recomposition, has the fundamental objective of preserving and developing the Italian presence, culture and identity in these lands. Our national and linguistic presence is both strong and fragile: however, it is not "given" forever, its survival and development in this part of the Adriatic cannot be taken for granted. Also because it is a "living" reality, made up of people and concrete relationships and not just testimonies, monuments, memories, museums. Much will depend on us, on our ability to "be" and "do" together. United, perhaps we will be able to defeat the true mocking curse of the exodus, the evil spell cast on February 10: the disappearance or radical and gradual weakening of the Italian presence in Istria, Fiume and Dalmatia. I don't know how much of it actually depends on us, and how much of it could be the result of globalization, the media, the inscrutable whims of the economy. But we still have the duty and responsibility to overcome divisions and delays to reconnect the torn threads of our identity. We have the task of answering the question that our children may one day ask us: "What have you done, what have you left us?"