So far, so close. The hell of Gaza, land of the last of the wars, two thousand and four hundred kilometers from the Island that once belonged to the Peoples of the Seas, sinks deeper every day in a disastrous rain that does not irrigate the fields of the Promised Land with life. Devastation that razes every moment of survival to the ground, in an advance that inflames not only that "Strip", but which risks triggering an apocalyptic scenario on the eastern side of the Mare Nostrum , the ancient Mediterranean. The umpteenth flare-up of a world in turmoil where the borders of war become increasingly entangled with those of the affairs of death, of gas and oil wells, of the perverse relations between rogue states and terrorism, between exorbitant interests and imperialist cravings.
What does Sardinia have to do with it?
Asking yourself what the land of the Nuraghi has to do with that conflict, with that unprecedented war, is not an obvious question. The geographical map, the land and sea borders, have not said everything for a long time. Or rather, they don't tell the truth, the underground, subtle one denied to most. It is the circumspect chessboard of what cannot be said and must, for love of country, remain silent. It is the representation of the most obvious contradictions and ambiguities, of subtle relationships that for the sake of base money, we must pretend to ignore. In this map of dangerous relationships, of circumspect affairs, of economic interests that prevail over everything, Sardinia is not a marginal land.
