The so-called Cutro Decree, which the Parliament is preparing to ratify with all the possible pejorative amendments that have already been announced, represents the nature of the government's securitarian, racist and discriminatory approach to the structural - and by no means emergency - phenomenon of the migration of people arriving every year at European borders by various sea and land routes. Successive European governments and migration policies over the years, whether openly right-wing or self-proclaimed 'democratic and progressive', have always imposed an approach based on rejection and the systematic violation of human rights, in particular the right to asylum. In this way, they have turned a predictable and obvious situation - climate crises, wars, hunger and dictatorships forcing people to move from one place to another - into a humanitarian tragedy. The Mediterranean, a symbol of what is rightly called 'necropolitics', has become the world's largest mass grave, with tens of thousands of innocent people forced to choose between dying in a camp or risking drowning at sea.
After the umpteenth avoidable tragedy, that of Cutro, the government has responded with further restrictions on the right to asylum and reception and further incentives to the machine of clandestinisation and punishment for those who manage to arrive: the infamy of the CPRs, 'ethnic' detention camps for those who have committed no crime, is multiplied and will cause much suffering for those who will suffer the punishment for daring to stay and ask for asylum in a European country. Increasing the number of hostages in these legal lagers will be even easier after the Farnesina has increased the number of 'safe third countries', those from which according to them 'you have no reason to escape'. One for all: Egypt. On the one hand, every day we remember the end that befell Giulio Regeni, tortured and killed by that dictatorship that tortures and kills hundreds of people every year; on the other hand, we have to witness the deportation with which our country's governments hand over to Al Sisi's executioners people who try to save themselves from a doomed fate.
To reject, to discriminate, to select, to inflict suffering: how much colonialism and racism do these policies express? The two days of 18 and 28 April are important because they also remind us of the situation of those who live in our country, the migrant workers. The extraordinary cycle of struggles of the logistic workers in the last years was really a light in the dark of the imposed social pacification that led to the current situation of exploitation and injustice of which millions of workers are victims. The struggles that our migrant brothers and sisters are courageously beginning to wage in the fields and factories, for the right to housing and welfare, will perhaps also awaken those who did not have to arrive by boat from the sea, but who today share the same exploitation in the same country or city.
This is why we have no hesitation in supporting and participating in the mobilisations of 18 and 28 April, in which we have tried to be useful, starting from the territorial realities in which they were born, Rome and Naples respectively.
We continue to work, at sea and on land, to organise concrete disobedience, sabotage, the deconstruction of the borders of walls and barbed wire that characterise the political logic of established power against people on the move. They accuse us of being 'criminals' for this: but who is more criminal, the one who builds a camp or the one who destroys it? The road will be long and difficult, but we will go through this hell together and 'recognise what hell is not'. For a "conspiracy of good", a necessary counterweight to the inability of those in power to imagine a better world.
