Dear Iranian students,
my name’s Marco and I’m Italian. I stopped being a student many years ago (I’m now 40), but I’d like to tell you how much I feel close to you and to all Iranian people struggling for freedom.
Just yesterday an Iranian friend of mine asked me: “Why you are so interested in Iranian politics?” I tried to give her a good and long answer. Sometimes even Italian friends do the same question. And then I answer: “If you can’t understand it by yourself, I’ll never be able to explain it to you.” In Italy we often forget what it means being or not being “free”. You, Iranian people, are reminding us of what the word “freedom” actually means.
I’ll tell you a short story. Almost 70 years ago, in Italy there was a dictatorial regime. The fascism was in power, Italy was ravaged by the war, foreigner armies were fighting inside Italian borders. In 1943 a young man, whose name was Guglielmo, had just been widowed. His wife was dead and he had two children (3 and 5 years old) to bring up alone. Nevertheless he told his sister “Please, could you take care of them?”, and he left. He went to the Italian mountains, he joined the partisans and he began to struggle against fascists and nazists. He followed, right to the end, his dream to live one day in a free country. Two years later, that day finally came: just a few hours after his birthday, Italy was freed. 25 April 1945. He went home, hugged his children and started along with them his new life in his new free country.
That young Italian partisan was my grandfather.
Today, when I can read an independent newspaper, when I can freely vote, when I can safely tell everybody my opinion, when I can harshly dissent from what Italian government settles, when I can go out in the street and demonstrate without being beated or arrested, I think gratefully: “Thank you, grandpa Guglielmo, I’ll never forget you”.
So, even if you are all so young, dear Iranian students, please keep in your mind that now you are not fighting just for yourselves. Your struggle is the struggle of the children whom you will have one day, and of the grandchildren who will come. One day, in many years, when Iran will have been a free country for decades, your grandchildren will read newspapers, will see their votes respected, will even argue, will demonstrate and will choose to be religious or not, in one word: they will be free, and they will remember you with gratitude: “Thank you my granpa, thank you my grandma, we’ll never forget you, the struggle you’ve done, the pain you’ve suffered”.
You’re now preparing the country where not just you, but also the future generations will live, and you’ll be remembered for this. It’s a big role, a very challenging task, but I’m sure that you’ll make it.
Let me tell you how much admiration I feel for all of you and for your courage. Me and many other Italian or European people will never leave you alone. The 16 Azar we’ll march in the streets and in the squares of Iran along with you, holding your hands in our hands. We’ll go on together until the day of freedom. That day is coming, Iran will be soon free.
Marg bar dicktator! Azadi baraye Iran!
With all my love and support.
Marco Curatolo, Italy
“You, who shall emerge from the flood
In which we were drown,
Think -
When you speak of our weaknesses,
Also of the dark time
that you have escaped.”
From Bertolt Brecht’s poem “To Those Born After”
This was my granpa Guglielmo
Also see Marcos Video messege:
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