Wind assault, the long nights of Tharros
The story "inside" the protest that paralyzed the transport of wind turbines to the new construction sites in the south of the island
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The first anti-aircraft to take off is like clockwork on time. At exactly eight o'clock, with the sun still hot on the Gulf of Tharros, a patrol of " Anopheles ", in the form of a primordial swarm, swoops down on the entrance to the industrial port of Oristano. The ordinance sprays do what they can to thin out the assault of those irreverent mosquitoes from times gone by bred like herds in the stagnant waters around the Oristano airport. It is the prelude to a night that promises to be eventful. The streets of the "City of Eleonora", from dusk, are teeming with light blue Jeeps , camouflaged by the flashing lights kept off, with the unsuccessful intention of not overly alarming the most peaceful of the Sardinian "metropolises". The most attentive observers immediately perceive what is about to happen.
The dogma of Rome
The dogma of Rome is punctuated with mutual dispatches between the Prefectures of the island and the Ministry of Public Order: eliminate any resistance to the movement of wind turbines in Sardinian territory. The Prefect of Oristano goes beyond the ambitions of "suppression" of every protest: here everything is calm - says a prefectural note intended more for Rome than for the Tharros garrison. Never has a statement been so improvident and untimely, given that shortly thereafter, in the proscenium of a Port that had become strategic for wind speculators, a real hell would break loose, with repeated clashes and even a "detention-arrest" complete with handcuffs displayed for the cameras.
The swag of wind power
That there was nothing peaceful at the mouth of the Tirso can be understood when the Carabinieri and Police armored vehicles positioned themselves in the rear of an industrial area impoverished by factories that had never been created and other "decoctions" before they were born, as if they were preparing the assault. to the hideout of the daring and millionaire robbers of the Mondiapol of Sassari. None of this, even if the loot placed in the docks of the Port of Oristano is much more conspicuous than any millionaire robbery ever carried out in the vaults of the island. To be distributed far and wide across Sardinia there are dozens and dozens of cyclopean wind turbines, the largest ever landed on the island, which arrived almost two months ago directly from the Spanish headquarters of Vestas , the Danish multinational specialized in "slicers ” serials of the Sardinian wind. For days, since there was a feeling that the moratorium approved by the Regional Council was "hot water", it was perceived that those rotors, pylons and blades would soon move, without a shot being fired, for the most disparate destinations, from the slopes of Marganai, between Musei and Domusnovas, on the Carlo Felice front between Marrubiu and Terralba, and close to Monte Linas between Sanluri Stato and Villacidro.
No ban
Newly opened construction sites, in theory to be included in that bizarre and useless rule approved by the Sardinian Legislative Assembly which provides for the theoretical, but only theoretical, "ban on building" wind and photovoltaic power plants. A provision, however, so confusing and generic that in the end not only does it not block the authorization procedures, but it does not even minimally intervene in the construction sites to be opened, already open or at an advanced stage. The Port of Oristano is, therefore, a double symbol of this dispute-mobilization: on the one hand it confirms that the assault on the island has begun, on the other it is proven proof that the moratorium is useless and harmful given that it does not block in any way the authorization procedures. The tom-tom of messages is an alarm that flows in the committee chats. There is no time to move the great masses, if it were ever possible.
The brave ones
In the garrison in front of the Port Authority, however, a sufficient number of courageous women and men arrive, willing to make physical contact in order to defend the inviolability of the Island. When the state SUVs burst onto the port proscenium, the darkness of the night has already taken possession of the scene of the clash. The managers' cell phones are ringing like a vortex: we have to decide whether to overlook, find a point of mediation, or arrive at a clash with the demonstrators. Force action prevails. From the streams of the industrial cemetery, as soon as 10 pm struck, armored vehicles arrive loaded with policemen and carabinieri: helmets and riot shields, like the worst state performances against peaceful citizens intent only on defending their land from speculators and fixers ready to devastate promontories with impunity. and plains, oases or untouched peaks. The positioning is peremptory. The vehicles leave from the secondary exit of the port, after the main one was blocked by the demonstrators. It is at that moment that the eyes of the demonstrators overlap like blades on the gazes of the men in war gear. Contact is almost immediate. The clash becomes harsh and continuous. At three in the morning there are still those shouting: "a foras is palas de sa Sardinia" . The garrison doesn't stop. The long nights in Eleonora's land have just begun. The "war" on the wind power assault on the island of Sardinia comes to a head.
