He had no intention of meeting me. His gait, moreover, did not mitigate his hasty demeanor. He came towards me politely, but his gaze was resolute. When I arrived at his very private residence in Villa Macherio, on the extreme outskirts of the Milanese metropolis, he had no reservations in making me understand. Actually, I didn't know anything about that blind date either. His lifelong friend, Romano Comincioli, a restless and surly schoolmate, whom I had met for the first time the previous morning, had asked me to make myself available for a chat the following day with a friend of his. I was in Milan, by chance, as Mayor of Iglesias, to present the tourist conversion projects of the mining areas to the International Tourism Exchange.
That little radio off
The year was 1999, the month was February. The chosen day was Sunday, that of Holy Mass. From the royal garden to a straw-colored study the step was short. A radio in the background broadcasts Radio Radicale. Before turning it off, his greeting to a convention of the elderly, recorded the day before, must be followed in religious silence. The question is point-blank, just when the radio knobs turn off: «To what do I owe your visit?».
Joke in style
I'm blown away, I think of a joke organized in a big way, but I decide not to fall into the abyss of embarrassment. I look at him, smile and climb into an answer: «Your schoolmate wanted me to meet a childhood friend of his. I never thought I'd meet Silvio Berlusconi. And disturb her on a Sunday morning.' He doesn't give up: «Now, however, you are here. Sunday is beautiful that gone. We try to make it productive». From the drawer of the desk of yesteryear he takes out a squared notebook like in elementary school. He shies away from the Montblancs and grabs a blue “stroke pen”, the one to mark mistakes. The first sheet is not blank. He has notes. He rattles them off, one by one.
Thanks and goodbye
They are the torpedoes of politics, the dossiers that had been sent to him from Sardinia to demolish any contender in the bud. The onset of the questions is all about the attack: «They tell me that you are an anti-party. Why should a movement like Forza Italia dialogue with you?». The joke is starting to weigh me down. I take courage. I dissuade tension with the hope of resolution. I thought to myself: I'll answer him without preamble, ten minutes, two lines, thanks for the meeting and goodbye. In fact, it won't end like this. After explaining to him that I was happy to be Mayor of my city, that I had a lot of projects to carry out and that I wasn't interested in any type of candidacy, he skipped all the Sardinian conspiracy notes.
Blank sheets
In an instant those blank sheets began to imprint ever more stringent questions. He addressed them urgently, as if he were questioning me. Punctual questions about Sardinia and its problems, possible solutions, strategies and ideas for the future. The confrontation was decided and frank, it raised reservations about some of my ideas of "public" management of the economy, from energy to transport. We confronted each other.
Enemies of the Island
I supported the thesis, for Rome risky, that Sardinia was not Italy. I told him that on the island everyone came to make firewood and monopolies, from Alitalia to Tirrenia, from Enel to Eni. In the end he didn't blame me. Time was ticking. The diary of that meeting was increasingly dense. After almost two hours of questions and answers about Paradise Island, its wonders, its unexpressed potential, we found ourselves alone. Him and me. His schoolmate had left us to immerse himself in the labyrinth of the house. In an instant she threw away that "she" that she had reserved for me more out of detachment than out of courtesy.
Helping hand
The conclusion was disarming. "We'll talk to you soon. Don't worry, he said, greeting me. I will come to Sardinia to give you a hand for the electoral campaign». I didn't understand anything. Or maybe everything. The chronicle of those weeks is imprinted with rivers of ink on heaps of paper. The fight is very hard. To get out of the ordeal in the best possible way, without too much damage, I take paper and computer: «Dear President, I think there aren't the conditions to go ahead with my candidacy. For me, however, it remains an important life experience. Better take a step back. Too many conflicts, too many internal wars. Better to let it go."
The phone rings
A few hours pass and the phone rings. Without too many preambles, as peremptory as ever, he says to me: «We go forward, even alone. We have to change our Sardinia». The electoral campaign was exciting. The opponents' attacks were no holds barred. The further it went, however, the more he became convinced that the Island was another continent. He wanted to discover and get to know, touch the inland areas with his own hands and climb the abandoned mining villages.
The great beauty"
He suggested, reflected aloud, sighted this paradise in the center of the Mediterranean, imagining it as the "Great Beauty" of an island transformed into a flourishing land of the sun. The government of the island, despite the abundant victory, due to a perverse electoral mechanism, arrived only two years later. With an unprecedented coincidence for Sardinia. Silvio Berlusconi had meanwhile become President of the Council of Ministers. There is not a single day to lose. Not even forty days after I took office at Villa Devoto, seat of the Presidency of the Region, he summoned all the most important ministers for the island to Palazzo Chigi.
Not a parade
Not a parade, but an operational meeting. He is the one who signs the Institutional Program Agreement, the one that will allocate important and decisive resources for roads and water, for transport and energy. In December 2001, I explained to him that the airlines were blocking territorial continuity, from the state company to the private ones. He asks me what to do. I replied that the Ministers should have signed the decrees to start air territorial continuity for Sardinia pending the appeals.
Sign continuity
He didn't like wasting time. He calls them, without hesitation. The order is peremptory: you must sign immediately. On January 1, 2002, for the first time in Sardinia's autonomous history, territorial continuity began. We go from a plane ticket of 200 euros to less than 50. It's a revolution. In February the island is dramatically without water. I ask for extraordinary powers. Those of war.
The brakes of the Palace
The centralist state holds back and opposes it. From Guido Bertolaso, very powerful head of the Civil Protection, to the legislative offices of Palazzo Chigi. The argument is written in a note that Berlusconi turns me around without caring about them. The aversion is synthetic: the powers of the President of the Council of Ministers cannot be granted to a President of the Region, moreover with a special Statute. The post scriptum is handwritten: «the Sardinian President is just 35 years old». Berlusconi loves to decide. He convenes an immediate summit in the seat of the Government: there are Bertolaso, Gianni Letta, the Secretary General Antonio Catricalà.
They grumble, but he signs
He immediately gives me the floor, hoping that my request is convincing. I explain that if the decree is not signed, I will only have to resign today. In that provision there are resources for a billion euros, the powers for expropriation, for acceleration during construction and to work day and night on the construction sites of the pipelines. They moan, the others. Berlusconi snatches the folder with the decrees and signs, emphatically.
Anticipate all times
He hands me the stolen goods and whispers to me: "Have the works to bring water to Cagliari finish a day earlier so we can let these gentlemen know in time how to solve the problems". On the 48th day, if he wrote it down, he calls me at night to find out the status of the work. The answer did not disappoint him: «Tonight we activate the connection 48 hours in advance». The mechanism was tested: from that moment the commissioner became a method of government.
Powers to the Region
Transferring powers from the State to the Region was the bet to give the island tools it didn't have, decisive for tackling the road construction sites that have always been in slow motion, for managing reforms and building strategic infrastructures. In the meantime, Algeria is proposing the pipeline to connect the Maghreb with Europe, through Sardinia. The aim is to fill an ancestral limit of the island, the only region in Europe without methane. The negotiations with the government of Algiers are in the hands of the Sardinian Region, but the competence lies with the state. The official delegation arrives to define the agreements. Once signed, it is Berlusconi himself who transforms them into state law. Finally, the federalist reform. It is 2009. We are discussing how to manage the cohesion of the country. I submit to him a fundamental amendment to be included in the text of the law. It reads: «measuring and compensating the island divide». He summons Roberto Maroni, Minister of the Interior, and Roberto Calderoli, Minister of Reforms, to Palazzo Chigi.
Measure and compensate
It is peremptory: «The Prime Minister puts his trust in this amendment which obliges the State to measure and compensate for the insular gap, it must be approved». So it will be. His message after the vote is without appeal: "Sardinia is in my heart".
