The Old Reporter [translatorÂ’s note: the writer of the article] who started to travel the USA in the summer of 1950 remembers two emblematic events. Soon after KennedyÂ’s assassination, "La Stampa" editor Giulio De Benedetti sent me to the Deep South. Only a few were missing Camelot.
In Little Rock I interviewed Governor Faubus, the one who wanted to stop African-American students from attending white people's school. He said, "They deserved that, too much presumption. They have everything, just like white students. Segregation? Lies."
One day in Buckingham (Alabama) I took a seat in a restaurant. While waiting for the waiter to arrive I started to read a copy of Ebony, a glossy magazine written and read by black people.
Having finished reading and still waiting for someone to serve me, I called a waiter. "I would like to order lunch," I said.
"IÂ’m afraid youÂ’re going to have to use room service," he answered.
"And why is that?"
"ItÂ’s obvious; you annoyed the staff by reading that magazine, since - thanks to God - weÂ’re all white." He bowed and left.
In Jackson (Mississippi), a Protestant Community forbade the black priests entrance to temples. Beyond professional curiosity, I decided to verify the "ukase" by asking a black priest to come with me, if he felt like doing it. He accepted and we went to a church with a lot of people following.
We approached the church by steep stairs made of fake Carrara marble. At the threshold was the pastor, a rich fabric dealer. "Hold it!" said the pastor to the black priest. "You cannot enter here, brother."
Why? "Because this is our church, built with our money. A church only for us white men. Your companion can enter and pray with us because heÂ’s white."
I was ready to turn and get away, but the black priest asked me to stay. I attended the Mass for white people. It was way out of line, a sort of ritual soaked with the smell of wax.
Sixty years later, racism is in agony: a black man, Barack Hussein Obama, enters the White House. ItÂ’s a victory for the America of Hollywood, penicillin, jazz, petting, atomic weapons, research, moon dance, and oddities. Common-sense America, origin of DeweyÂ’s pragmatism, won the election.
But the election of the first black president of the USA is most of all the consecration of the melting pot, which in turn modified the shape of a country fatigued by a rash post-colonial war.
The winner is a human metronome that managed to grow and act as an American. His school mates tell us that Barack was a shy guy, sometimes confused. Today he simply says with his gospel voice: "I'm a self-made man. Growing up I understood that all Americans have the same opportunity, as long as you believe in it." (Remember Forrest Gump?)
The Great Nation that defeated Nazism offers possibility for anyone, but to make it and leave anonymity behind you need to pass through the narrowest eye of a needle. The new president managed to get appointed to a university chair and to the Senate passing through the hardest eye. One thing is a change of heart, another is figuring out that "we can."
WeÂ’ll see if the young president will be able to find the right tools to realize the lucky slogan "Yes we can."
Sessant’anni dopo, il razzismo agonizza: un nero, lui, Barack Hussein Obama, entra nella Casa Bianca. Ha vinto l’America del cinema, della penicillina, del jazz, del petting, dell’atomica; della ricerca, della danza sulla Luna e delle stramberie. Ha vinto l’America del common sense, sorgente del pragmatismo di Dewey. Ma l’elezione del primo Presidente nero della Storia americana è soprattutto la consacrazione del melting pot calato nei fatti. Che a sua volta ha liftato i connotati d’un grande Paese-Continente usurati da un’improvvida guerra postcoloniale. Il vincitore è un metronomo umano che ha saputo crescere e agire da americano. I suoi compagni di scuola ci dicono che Barack era un ragazzino timido, a volte confuso. Oggi egli, semplicemente, con la sua ispirata voce da gospel, dice: «Mi sono fatto crescendo. E crescendo ho sperimentato che tutti gli americani hanno le stesse opportunità . Basta crederci». (Senza malizia: avete presente Forrest Gump?).
La Grande Nazione che ha distrutto il nazismo offre a chiunque almeno un’opportunità nella vita, ma per farcela, per rompere il guscio duro dell’anonimato occorre passare attraverso la cruna la più stretta. Il nuovo Presidente è approdato alla cattedra universitaria e persino al Senato passando, ostinatamente, per la cruna più ardua. Una cosa è cambiare idea, un’altra è capire «come fare» per convincersi che «si può fare». Vedremo se il giovine Presidente riuscirà a trovare gli strumenti adatti per concretizzare uno slogan felice: «Si può fare».
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Whether George HW Bush or Donald J Trump, Americanimperialism is unabated—the pathetic excuses and the violentshock-and-awe tactics don’t matter; the results do.