War calls war and for every war against the invader there is another, parallel, that they call civil but it is no less brutal, less ruthless than the other, which contains it. In Ukraine they raise attacks on the ultra -annualist leaders and the modalities recall a plot of lecarrè: the sicarium masked by a home carrier who in the duct, asburgic Lopoli, where even a summer morning is bruised, reaches the former president of the Ukrainian parliament Andrij Parubij, he shoots perhaps five, perhaps eight shots, leaving the electric bike, leaving behind the scie Mystery, of controversy, of fury.
Zelensky cries him, denounces the fatal Russian shadows, starts a siren operation to shed light, and it is clear that he already knows how, where to move. A politician with a few nuances, even if he ends up diluting, to distance himself from the most fanatical radicalisms; However, one who passes through all the events and the riots of recent homeland history, one who crosses facts, turbid pages and risks, in 2014 he is saved from a first attack with a grenade while instructing the comrades in front of the Kiev hotel: this time he goes worse, and it is all too easy to see Putin’s hand. Ah, that they are not lacking in “Nazi” in Ukraine! And someone would say they are determined to clean up: already, but from across the border, or is it internal stuff, perhaps insufficient?
But is a native Ukrainian less fierce, less icy if he kills? Isn’t that uncomfortable ultra -annualistic pride that Ukrainians are still there against an incomparably stronger enemy? We do not say here that Putin is right to want to revive everything in the wake of the old Soviet Union, we do not deny the instances of an emancipated country, nor the ambiguity and darkness of the autonomist, democratic process, we remain to the ethnic and historical considerations to say that these two peoples are actually a unique, separated people, broken by political reasons, by abstractions in a certain sense. And they could see each other, find analogies in other Scissi peoples, in Palestine as between Indians and Pakistani. The more close they are, children of the same story, the more the gods divide and divide them.
But one thing is certain: the war between peoples brothers will not end so soon as the other, more or less internal, will not end, inside the same people, the same country. And perhaps the Carré would not be enough, perhaps Giancarlo Mazzuca was right when he wrote that to understand this Ukrainian war a new Montanelli would need, to say one capable of saying things as he saw them at the time of the Russian invasion of Hungary, at the cost of being hated by everyone, primarily by his master Longanesi. But do they still exist? In a time where it is not true what is true but what is claimed is true in the evidence of lies?
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