Indro Montanelli Statue – Milan, Italy

Status Quo, Reinterpretation/Recontextualization Framework. Explore definitions here. 

Introduction

Statues, obelisks, names of streets, squares of public buildings are not traces of our history, but intentional signs by which the present power asserts its right to define the meaning of historical time and public space. They do not serve to remind us that certain people existed, but to celebrate them and propose them as normative and ideal models to be inspired by (Portelli, 2020).

Located in a park in Milan, Italy, and dedicated to a controversial historical figure, a statue of Indro Montanelli shows how a symbol of the past can impact the present. As articulated in the quote above, monuments become political devices that present only one perspective on history. They transmit an ethos that many members of the culture, particularly younger generations, no longer recognize. 

The case of the Montanelli statue has given rise to a heated and polarizing debate in Italy. Many public figures and institutions see him as a great and revolutionary journalist and director of Milan’s daily newspaper Corriere della Sera (Evening Courier). Many other groups and individuals consider Montanelli a colonizer, a rapist, and a fascist. 

The debate regarding the Montanelli statue has mostly stayed on a superficial level. However, important questions remain: Should the statue be preserved, removed, or reinterpreted? What are the implications of removing or destroying it? How is the statue perceived by residents of Milan and Italians generally? Is the celebration of good journalism more important than the revelation of racial and gender discrimination and abuse?

This research aims to provide 1) an overview of events related to the statue; 2) the various stakeholders’ perspectives; and 3) an exploration of the issues raised by the Montanelli statue case. 

The first part of this study will describe the various reinterpretations, requests for removal, and protests around the Montanelli statue and the institutional responses to these actions. The second part will examine Montanelli’s character and the story of Destà, the child bride, drawing on interviews to analyze the historical context of colonialism. It is worth noting that some parties who were invited to take part in interviews were unwilling or unable to do so.

The third part of the study will explore the gender issue as it relates to monuments in public spaces.

Section 1: The History of the Monument to Montanelli

The monument to Indro Montanelli was created in 2006 by sculptor Vito Tongiani at the behest of Milan city hall–or, more precisely, ex-Mayor Gabriele Albertini. The statue is located inside a large public park in the center of Milan. Before 2002 the name was Public Gardens or Porta Venezia Gardens. Since 2002, the park has primarily been known as Indro Montanelli’s Gardens (Fig. 1). Montanelli had gone to the park daily and often sat on a bench to read the newspaper.  In that same park on June 2, 1977, he had been shot in the legs in an assassination attempt by the Brigate Rosse (Red Brigade). 

The statue depicts Montanelli sitting on a stack of newspapers holding a typewriter on his lap (Fig. 2). The hat he always wore is resting on the ground. The word Giornalista (Journalist) is inscribed on the pedestal (Fig. 3). Surrounding the statue is a stone wall with a large opening–a representation of La stanza di Montanelli (Montanelli’s room), a famous column in the Corriere della Sera that gave readers a chance to communicate with Montanelli himself.

Section 2: Responses to the Monument

Controversies of different kinds emerged soon after the statue appeared. Early critiques focused on the aesthetics of the statue, the poor resemblance to Montanelli, and, most importantly, the fact that Montanelli himself did not believe in monuments (Fig. 6). These controversies mainly involved people who had known Montanelli personally. 

The first physical attack on the statue occurred in 2012 when someone daubed Montanelli with red and hid a fake bomb at the foot of the pedestal. No one claimed responsibility, and the protest garnered little media coverage.

In April 2018 the words razzista (racist) and stupratore (rapist) appeared on the pedestal. The words clearly referred to Montanelli’s actions in Africa and, in particular, the relationship between Montanelli and 12-year-old Destà. From this moment on, protests around the statue grew in number and intensity. 

On March 8, 2019–International Women’s Day–the feminist association Non Una di Meno (Not One Less) painted the monument pink. The act was intended to give voice to the girls and women who had suffered the legalized violence of the colonial system.

In mid-2020 in the United States, the killing of George Floyd triggered nationwide protests and a reevaluation of statues depicting controversial figures in history. The echo of these protests was heard in Europe, especially in Britain, Belgium, and France. But until this point, Italy had remained mostly indifferent to the monuments debate. 

In June 2020, as the debate over social justice intensified, street artists and activists recontextualized Montanelli’s statue by focusing on the story of the child bride. For example, in the first days of June, street artist Ozmo reproduced with a stencil the image of Destà on a pedestal. The child had her mouth painted blue and her left arm raised. The artwork, which no longer exists, was located on Via Torino, a busy street in Milan. 

The first strong institutional response to the Montanelli statue came from the LBGTQIA+ pride organization I Sentinelli di Milano (the Sentinels of Milan), which asked in an open letter for the removal of the statue and the renaming of the park. Responding that the monument would remain in place, Milan’s mayor asked the citizens a series of questions: 

What do we ask characters we want to remember with a statue, with a plaque, with the naming of a street, a square or a garden? Do we ask for an unblemished life? Do we ask for a life in which everything was extremely fair? …Lives should be judged in their complexity. For all these reasons I think the statue should remain there (Sala, 2020).

In an interview for this case study, I Sentinelli di Milano’s Valerio Barbini explained that the organization “…did not expect someone to immediately go and remove the statue and change the name of the park, but what we did expect was a higher quality of debate on the issue from the Milan city hall.”

On June 14, 2020, the Rete Studenti di Milano (Milan Student Network) daubed Montanelli’s statue with red paint and wrote razzista and stupratore on the pedestal. Later that day, authorities ordered the statue cleaned and opened legal proceedings against those responsible. 

On June 28, 2020, artist-activist (and self-styled “artivist”) Cristina Donati Meyer placed a doll on Montanelli’s lap. When interviewed in 2023, Meyer explained, “As an anti-fascist, politically committed artist, I am glad that the ‘monument of shame’ exists and remains where it is, exposed to the judgment and desecrating interventions of rational beings…. [I believe I have brought] back to the monument historical truth, meaning, fulfillment, without defacing the statue.”

The police responded almost immediately to Meyer’s artistic intervention. Alexandra Forcella from the association Mi Riconosci? (You Know Me) explained in a 2023 interview: “The fact that armed bodies respond like that to an artistic action is relevant. We are not talking about a random monument; we are talking about an artistic operation against Indro Montanelli and how politics responds to these things.”

As of 2021, inside the Museo delle Culture (Museum of Culture) in Milan there is a reproduction of the statue of Montanelli holding the little doll. It is important to note that while the police intervened quickly to remove the artwork located in the park, in a public museum this reinterpretation can exist and give voice to the child. Ludovica Piazzi from Mi Riconosci? observed in a 2023 interview, “It’s very interesting because these are both public spaces and it feels like even institutions are themselves manifestations of a debate in some ways.” 

The public debate about the Montanelli statue that had begun in 2020 fizzled out as the COVID-19 pandemic dominated Italy’s–and the world’s–attention. Recently, however, the statue has returned to the spotlight thanks largely to the activism of Non Una di Meno and other groups. 

On June 24, 2023 (international Pride Day), the group Bproud Milano Plus hung rainbow flags on the statue of Montanelli, publicly stating, 

…We contest that the municipality of Milan has named a statue after a war criminal, who committed pedophile rape as part of the fascist occupation in Ethiopia …. Holding our assembly under the statue… is reappropriation of a space that belongs to the democratic community and not to the memory of a Mussolini sympathizer. 

On July 22, 2023, Extinction Rebellion Italia held the last (as of this writing) protest involving Montanelli’s statue: In an effort to call attention to the dangers of climate change and pollution, the group wrapped the monument with caution tape and declared the entire Po Valley “Dangerous for Human Health.” Explaining its actions, the group stated,

Indro Montanelli, who has never disavowed the racism and gender violence of the Italian colonial project, is the symbol of a past, but also of a present, built on the… exploitation of territories, people and resources…. We denounce the short-sightedness of the Italian and regional government regarding… climate change and air pollution (Extinction Rebellion, 2023).

Before delving further into the various perspectives on the statue of Montanelli, it is important to consider several factors. 

Even after the social-justice protests following George Floyd’s death, views of cultural heritage in Italy continued to differ from views in other countries. All protests of the Montanelli monument have involved reinterpretation rather than the damage and destruction that have occurred in other countries. 

The statue has always been defended and, if necessary, cleaned after protests. This is because, as one of the most influential intellectuals in Italy during the 20th century, Montanelli embodies untouchable values. Professor Karin Pallaver further explained in a 2023 interview: 

… [B]eyond the symbolic and political significance of these protests against Montanelli’s statues, a matter of the State’s cultural heritage and artistic heritage comes into play. The statue is a piece of art. The State cannot allow works of art to be defaced for political reasons. This is why the State doesn’t remove the statue and if someone dirties it, it’s its duty to clean it up.

For activist communities, the Montanelli statue has become a stage from which to make their voices heard. Over time, the monument has been the site of a wide variety of protests–that is, moving beyond Italy’s colonial past and things that Montanelli personally said and did. Despite the danger of diluting or confusing protest messages, the statue has become, in the words of Karin Pallaver, “a place that contains certain feelings and where… certain political demonstrations of dissent work. It … has already worked for feminist collectives, for Non Una di Meno, for anti-colonial, anti-imperialist student collectives so… these protests will continue to happen.” 

Valerio Barbini on behalf of I Sentinelli di Milano agreed: “It’s an identity place even for those who protest against it, perhaps it can continue to be a political battleground… At this point the statue should remain there, as an incentive to react to its presence: a negative symbol can also have a positive impact.” 

The statue of Montanelli–an uncomfortable and controversial presence for many–has helped focus public opinion on issues that otherwise might have been overlooked.  

At this point it is crucial to examine who Indro Montanelli was and why he–and the statue honoring him–have been so controversial.

Section 3: Montanelli, Colonies, and Madamato

Indro Montanelli was born in 1909 in Fucecchio and died in 2001 in Milan. He witnessed–and in some cases experienced firsthand as a journalist–many of the tumultuous events of the 20th century. In 1983 on a television show on Rai, Italy’s public broadcasting channel, Montanelli famously said: “I consider myself condemned to journalism, because I wouldn’t have known how to do anything else.” He was a special correspondent for the Corriere della Sera. He founded the daily newspaper Giornale Nuovo (New Newspaper) in 1974 and the Voce (Voice) in 1994 before returning to the Corriere as a columnist.

As a young man Montanelli participated in Italy’s colonization of Ethiopia. He was in Spain during that country’s civil war. And he was a reporter during World War II, the Russo-Finnish War, and the Hungarian Revolt. 

Most of the protests described above focused on one period in Montanelli’s life: his involvement in Italian colonialism. In 1935 “Montanelli embarked on the African adventure because, as a nationalist and fascist, he believed in that feat. He saw in it a chance for Italy’s redemption, finally stepping up and taking action […] and finally able to conquer, like other world powers, its sacrosanct Posto al sole (place in the sun)” (Montanelli, 2022). For Italy, the colonial gambit came late (compared to the other European powers) and was an almost total failure.

While serving as a volunteer in Ethiopia during the Second Italo-Ethiopian War, the 26-year-old Montanelli bought Destà, a 12-year-old girl who had been forced into concubinage. Unions of this type between Italian soldiers and native females were part of the legalized violence of the colonial system known as Madamato. Some observers argue that, because Madamato relationships were widely accepted in the colonies, Montanelli’s actions in context were defensible. Others staunchly accuse him of child rape. To better understand the colonial context, it is essential to interweave the study of the colonizers with that of the colonized. 

Professor Karin Pallaver explained in an interview, 

In the specific Italian case the justification comes from the fact that there were relationships, let’s say a contractual form of temporary marriage in some parts of Ethiopia and Eritrea, even before colonization… that was characterized by an agreement between a man and a woman that involved an economic exchange between the two families… [T]he man was obligated to recognize and support the children that were born from this relationship and was also obligated to support his wife. Both could decide to end this relationship…. Italian colonialism was responsible for spreading the use of this kind of temporary contract in all the colonial territory.

After Italy’s violent conquest of Eritrea and Somalia, the Italian colonizers needed complex long-term domestic relationships with local women. In these hierarchical relationships, women were subordinated legally, economically, and socially.

In order to increase Italy’s prestige, in 1935 Mussolini decided to expand Italy’s colonial possessions. About 300,000 Italian soldiers, including Montanelli, were sent to the colonies, creating a new imbalance that generated violence, rape, and unrest.

In 1937 Mussolini formulated racial laws to accelerate the establishment of a fully hierarchical and fully segregated society. On an institutional level concubinage was forbidden. Mussolini favored prostitution to prevent the legitimized birth of mixed Italian-African children. Despite Mussolini’s wishes, Madamato continued secretly and in a private domestic form. 

Researcher Giulia Barrera has studied the history of women and girls during Italian colonization. She explains, 

[They] were very young women who were orphans of father or mother or both parents. These women were therefore in a very weak position…. They came from very poor families so they could not have a dowry.… Then imagine a 14-year-old girl… looking for some domestic work and when she finds an Italian officer or an Italian laborer then the situation changes. The position of this woman compared to the Italian man is very unequal…. This big difference very often generated great exploitation and great violence (Barrera, 2004).

This gives some idea of the situation in which Montanelli and 12-year-old Destà found themselves in colonial Ethiopia. 

Montanelli was certainly not the only Italian soldier to participate in the Madamato system. It is probably because he was one of the few who spoke about colonial norms candidly that the media have focused on him. Elena Pirazzoli, who was interviewed for this study, observed, “There is the Montanelli affair, which he himself exposed, claiming it proudly…. and this claim of his, exposed him as a figure.” He invariably downplayed the seriousness of the situation and sometimes chose violent words to describe it. 

In the 1970s Montanelli described the episode in a television talk show, saying, “Yes, apparently, I chose very well. She was a very beautiful twelve-year-old Bilen girl. Sorry, but in Africa it’s another thing! [laughter in the audience] And I legally married her in the sense that I bought her from her father….” (Bisiach, RAI 1, 1970). Journalist and activist Elvira Banotti challenged him, saying,

You said casually you had a twelve years old wife, if we can call her that. And as a 25-year-old man you weren’t appraised of raping a twelve-year-old girl, saying “in Africa these things are commonplace.” I would like to ask you, then, how do you usually understand your relationship with women, in the light of these two statements?

Montanelli reported his relationship with Destà many times until the 2000s, when he described it thus in La stanza di Montanelli: 

The girl’s name was Destà and she was 14 years old: a detail that in recent times brought upon me the fury of some imbeciles unaware that in tropical countries at 14 years old is already a woman, and past 20 she is an old woman. I had great difficulty in overcoming her smell, due to the goat’s tallow with which her hair was soaked, and even more so in establishing a sexual relationship with her because she was from birth infibulated: in addition to opposing an almost insurmountable barrier to my desires (it took, to demolish it, the brutal intervention of her mother), this made her completely insensitive (Montanelli, 2000).

Even aside from his accounts of Destà, many of Montanelli’s writings reveal a racist mentality and an eagerness to proclaim the superiority of the White race. Alberto Malvolti, president of the Montanelli-Bassi Foundation, explained in a 2023 interview,

I had the honor of having known Montanelli personally…. It is understandable that today, the fact that he said on live television that the little girl was 12-years-old and that in Africa certain things worked differently, is perceived as annoying and cynical. After all, Montanelli’s character was not afraid to say what he thought and he also had a certain taste in provoking.

Today, Montanelli’s stated views no longer coincide with the views of many Italians, especially the younger generations. An opinion piece in the independent news magazine Internazionale pointed out that “… it is striking that the rank of the indignant over a few paint pots [defacing the monument] are male, white, over fifty, in positions of power. All of them journalists. One wonders: why?”

Behind the Montanelli story lies the real problem: that the full-throated defense of Montanelli and what he represents does not allow Italians to confront their past and the racism still present in Italian society. Those who have defended Montanelli in recent years have done so using the same superficiality and levity with which Italians continue to deal with an uncomfortable past. Although the Italians were colonizers, they are remembered for being good people (brava gente); the same goes for Montanelli, who is remembered as a good journalist despite being a colonizer. 

Taking a wider view in a 2023 interview, researcher Elena Pirazzoli stated, 

The real problem is that we don’t know how many Montanellis there were…. Madamato is a complicated subject… some relationships were actually the result of a commercial trade with all the violence that it implies, but others were emotional relationships. So, the issue itself is complex. A big problem is that we have not yet reflected on the Italian colonial past. 

Limiting the debate to Montanelli has helped Italian society avoid the larger question of colonialism.

Italy has an uncomfortable past, and that past is exerting a significant influence on the present. What is still missing in post-colonial Italian history is a public debate, a decolonization ideology. This would allow Italians to face a complex historical period the vestiges of which are visible today in the names of streets, buildings, and monuments. A troubling past that is present in the urban space has not yet been discussed collectively in depth.

Section 4: Framework – Status Quo

In the framework developed by the Monuments Toolkit team, the monument to Indro Montanelli is status quo, defined as:  “The action of inaction. Allowing the monument to exist without any type of intervention.”

Despite attempts by protestors to temporarily reinterpret the monument to Indro Montanelli, the statue remains unchanged in its location. This is in contrast to the disposition of many other monuments that became targets of protest during the summer of 2020.

Section 5: Issues for Consideration Regarding the Montanelli Statue

The statue of Indro Montanelli in Milan raises questions beyond the obviously problematic elements of the journalist’s life and beliefs. 

Elena Pirazzoli again offered a key insight: 

At this point what I find more interesting is to move the discourse to another level: the representation of Montanelli…. It is no coincidence that in Italy it was the Non Una di Meno movement, the first association to throw paint at the statue, chose the color pink, and not red…. The goal was not to “bloodstain” the statue, as it happened during the second attack, because the protest was not about that kind of violence; but instead, the issue of gender violence.

Despite activist attempts to give voice to the 12-year-old Destà at Montanelli’s statue, there is no official trace of her there. Her absence is not surprising, for a 2021 study found that almost every major Italian city lacks a single monument dedicated to women (Lunardon and Piazzi, 2023). The few that do exist in urban spaces are the result of questionable artistic choices. It was not until 2021 that the city of Milan celebrated the first statue dedicated to a woman.

The statue of Montanelli was dedicated in 2006. Three years earlier, in 2003, a statue by Mario Vinci of two female journalists (like Montanelli) had been erected in the town of Acquapendente. The journalists, Ilaria Alpi and Maria Grazia Cutuli, had both been killed while doing their jobs. 

The difference between the representation of Montanelli, a man, and the representation of the female journalists is striking: while the man is dressed and depicted with the tools of his profession, the women are naked. The question that must be asked is: Why is a man with a controversial past represented doing his job but two noncontroversial professional women are represented naked?

Interviewee Elena Pirazzoli commented wryly that “the real provocation is not to paint the statue [as some activists have done], but… to represent Montanelli completely naked.” In Italian society a statue of Montanelli naked is, of course, unthinkable, even for activists, and perhaps for this very reason it would be the greatest possible provocation.

The gender issue–that is, the objectification of women to which Non Una di Meno called attention by painting the Montanelli statue pink–has deep roots in Italian history. Montanelli is one representative of a generation that committed gender-based violence against African women. Through the normalization of sexual assault, he and successive generations of men have shaped Italian society in the past and present. This can be seen in many facets of life–from the naked female journalists in the statuary representation, to the delay in guaranteeing certain rights. For example, it was only in 1996 that, in Italy, rape became a crime against the person and not against morality. This legal victory was achieved thanks to many women who had suffered sexual violence. 

Despite successes in the struggle for change, these rights are continually challenged by current events. A masculine gaze that has been defined as rape culture is still omnipresent in Italy today. It is closely related to the incidence of femicide in the country (Beise, 2023). It can also be seen as a factor in scandals involving politicians defending their sons from accusations of rape (La Repubblica, 2023). Those same politicians were friends of Montanelli and today they defend him vigorously. Montanelli becomes then the representative of a generation that not only committed gender-based violence against African women, but that through the normalization of rape continues to affect Italian society in the present.

Today, many Italian cities, notably Milan, are exploring ways to include more representations of women in the urban landscape. However, it is clear that the challenge is deep and complex, as the Mi riconosci? association explains: “With this research we hope to show how our women’s monuments almost give a visual representation of the institutionalized sexism that pervades our society. Likewise, it becomes clear that it is not possible to solve the problem simply by erecting new statues dedicated to women” (Lunardon and Piazzi, 2023).

Before creating new monuments to women, it is necessary to examine the values embodied in the statues that are already present. It is also important to discern what it is that institutions wish to represent through public monuments. The monument to Montanelli may be a good starting point. 

Section 6: Conclusion

Through this research, an attempt has been made to describe the complex issues surrounding the monument to Indro Montanelli in Milan. 

The monument invites reflection on two important and interconnected issues from Italy’s past that continue to resonate today:  colonialism and gender representation. Like the monument itself, these topics are uncomfortable to discuss, which largely explains the lack of political will to address them, from either the right or the left. 

For Italian society, the monument to Montanelli is a Pandora’s box. When Italians analyze Montanelli’s actions and beliefs, they are forced to acknowledge the existence of many more despicable figures right up to their grandfathers’ generation. They are obliged to face not only their country’s colonial past, but also its fascist past, both of which have left an indelible legacy in cities and the national memory. Anyone who protests the statue of Montanelli must also protest countless building and street names that honor a troubling past. 

As Italy faces its difficult heritage, the real danger is the risk of forgetting colonial history altogether or omitting the point of view of those colonized. Nigerian writer and scholar Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie writes, “When we reject the single story, when we realize that there is never a single story about any place, we regain a kind of paradise” (Ngozi Adichie, 2009) This makes the study of Italy’s past necessary; if Italians know their country’s past, they can demolish all prejudices related to it. So it is largely through school history programs that society can change.

The case of the Montanelli statue in particular can be used to open the type of long and painful debate needed to change minds and challenge the prevailing culture. Some intellectuals have already attempted this. Angelo Del Boca was a researcher who dedicated his life to the study of Italy’s colonial past. Drawing on existing studies on the use of gas to exterminate local populations in the colonies, in 1996 Del Boca opened a polarizing debate. For many Italians, Del Boca was unforgivably critical of Italy’s colonial past. Montanelli himself initially denied everything Del Boca said. It was only several years later that Montanelli admitted that the documents uncovered by historians were indisputable. This historical fact is now recognized on an institutional level, but perhaps not among members of civil society. 

Today, thanks to activists and younger Italians, a new collective consciousness is developing around the need to confront the past. The external push provided by the Black Lives Matter movement in the US changed the situation: although it was not deeply absorbed into Italian society, it brought new insights to the question of historical memorialization. The Montanelli monument has ignited a conversation about colonialism and gender issues–a conversation that needed to happen. Although the colonial issue is the one in the foreground, discussion of the gender representation issue could also prove fruitful, because there has been little talk about it. 

Monuments in public spaces affect everyone, because they inevitably communicate values that prevailed at a time and place in the past. The questions are: Should people accept, unchallenged, the symbols that institutions have chosen for them? Who do citizens want representing them in the cities in which they live? What values do they want to pass on to future generations?

Occasional protests aside, the statue of Montanelli goes unnoticed today by those who frequent the park. Few people stop by or look at it. Occasionally tourists approach it with curiosity, but they usually walk away without taking a photograph. 

So Montanelli’s statue sits there until a protest puts it at the center of public debate again. What does the future hold for it? No one knows. What is clear is that societies change and, with them, the shared set of values on which the culture is based. Perhaps one day the controversial Montanelli will no longer be held up for acclaim. And perhaps one day even the most marginalized and forgotten people will be appropriately represented in public works of memorialization.

References 

Barrera, G. (2004). Sex, Citizenship and the State: The Construction of the Public and Private Spheres in Colonial Eritrea. In P. Willson (Ed.), Gender, Family and Sexuality: The Private Sphere in Italy 1860-1945. Palgrave Macmillan.

Beise, M. (2023, November 24). Il caso di Giulia Cecchettin ha scosso l’Italia [Giulia Cecchettin’s case has shaken Italy]. Internazionale. Retrieved January 2024 from https://www.internazionale.it/magazine/marc-beise/2023/11/23/il-caso-di-giulia-cecchettin-ha-scosso-l-italia

Bisiach, G. (1970). L’ora della verità (Hour of Truth) [Video]. RAI 1. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8lJr2STfiI

Extinction Rebellion Italia. (2023). Extinction Rebellion ricopre con nastro segnaletico la statua di Indro Montanelli [Extinction Rebellion covers the statue of Indro Montanelli with warning tape]. https://extinctionrebellion.it/press/2023/07/22/CS_Montanelli_xrMI/

Lunardon, E., and Piazzi, L. (Eds.) (2023). Comunque nude. La rappresentazione femminile nei monumenti pubblici italiani [Naked anyway. The representation of women in Italian public monuments]. Mimesis.

Montanelli, I. (2000, February 12). Quando andai a nozze con Destà [When I got married to Destà. La stanza di Montanelli, Corriere della Sera. http://www.fondazionemontanelli.it/sito/pagina.php?IDarticolo=260

Ngozi Adichie, C. (2009, July). The Danger of a Single Story [Video]. TED Conferences. https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie_the_danger_of_a_ single_story?language=en

Portelli, A. (2020). Il ginocchio sul collo. L’America, il razzismo. La violenza tra presente, storia e immaginari [The knee on the neck. America, racism. Violence between present, history and imagination]. Donzelli Editore.

La Repubblica (2023, July 7). La Russa difende il figlio accusato di violenza sessuale: “Dubbi sulla ragazza: aveva preso cocaine.” Schlein: “Disgustoso.” Poi il dietrofront del presidente del Senato: “Frainteso.” [La Russa defends son accused of sexual assault: “Doubts about the girl: she had taken cocaine.” Schlein: “Disgusting.” Then the Senate president’s about-face: “Misunderstood.”]. Retrieved January 2024 from https://www.repubblica.it/politica/2023/07/07/news/ignazio_la_russa_figlio_indagato_violenza-406972083/

Sala, G. (2020, June 14). Milan Mayor Giuseppe “Beppe” Sala defends Montanelli [Video]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=843319649492330.