sexta-feira, 23 de fevereiro de 2018
Perante a ameaça presente no Largo do Rato,
Um artigo de Fevereiro de 2008:
Que fazer com o que resta do património arquitectónico do séc. XIX em Lisboa?
ANTÓNIO SÉRGIO ROSA DE CARVALHO 28 de Fevereiro de 2008, 0:00
Ressano Garcia concebeu o traçado das principais linhas urbanísticas do século XIX em Lisboa. Ressano Garcia delineou, mas não concebeu em unidade de estilo ou através duma visão cultural unificada o conceito arquitectónico que iria preencher este traçado, criando os boulevards do século XIX lisboeta.Enquanto numa grande parte da Europa o século XIX romântico, revivalista e historicista concebia um estilo arquitectónico em síntese, que resultava de uma ideia exultada de um certo "período de ouro" do seu passado, o preenchimento do plano urbanístico de Ressano Garcia, das nossas avenidas, era deixado a uma visão especulativa da geração de Rosa Araújo.
Como consequência desta ausência de visão cultural unificada, enquanto Haussmann em Paris formulava esse estilo, indissociável e caracterizador desta nova monumentalidade de Paris, ou Viena desenvolvia a imagem unificada e monumental do Ring, Lisboa vegetava mediocramente entre prédios de rendimento de qualidade diversa e híbrida e palacinhos e palacetes de uma nova alta burguesia abastada ou de novos "condes-barões" nascidos da nossa pseudo-revolução fabril e industrial.
A Lisboa nascida deste processo apresentava um contraste entre uma incontestável qualidade de concepção de traçado urbanístico e uma ecléctica, variável e dispersa qualidade de concepção e execução arquitectónica.
A qualidade existente nalguns conjuntos ou objectos dispersos nesta malha foi determinada pela geração de arquitectos vindos de Paris e formados pela École des Beaux Arts. Aqui falamos de nomes como Ventura Terra, Norte Júnior, José Luís Monteiro.
No entanto, é o que temos, ou, melhor dizendo, em função do processo de demolição e substituição que se tem desenrolado, é o que tínhamos.
O que tem conseguido resistir a este processo de destruição nesta malha urbanística, que pelas características não unificadas em carácter, escala e estilo já referidas era facilmente "penetrável", foram conjuntos que constituem verdadeiros blocos ou "ilhas" de resistência.
Por exemplo o bloco da Versalhes na Av. da República, que se estende desde a esquina do Colégio Moderno, incluindo o prédio da Versalhes, até à próxima esquina com notável edifício com características arte nova, é sintomático para esta "resistência" numa avenida irreconhecível em todos os aspectos, quando consultamos uma gravura da época original.
Ora, precisamente um outro exemplo deste fenómeno de resistência constituiu até agora o conjunto abrangendo na Alexandre Herculano o notável edifício da garagem, o prédio de Ventura Terra, a sinagoga, e o conjunto da entrada da Rua do Salitre, juntamente com a forma de como o complexo do Palácio Palmela, incluindo a fonte, se insere e determina a escala urbana em função da escala e volumetria da "parede" de edificações do Largo do Rato.
Todo este conjunto urbano constitui uma unidade cultural e patrimonial que se poderá absolutamente classificar nesta categoria de "ilha de resistência".
Em relação ao projecto dos arquitectos Aires Mateus e F. Valsassina, com os seus sete pisos, 10.000 m2 e uma linguagem arquitectónica, independentemente da questão da sua qualidade, compacta e impenetrável, a pergunta a pôr é: é este o local para inserir um edifício com estas características e volumetria?
A pergunta a pôr à CML é: perante este caso e o já aprovado e incompreensível "plano de alinhamento de cérceas", o que pretende fazer a CML com o que resta do património arquitectónico do século XIX (e início do séc. XX) incluindo os respectivos interiores, em Lisboa?
Historiador de Arquitectura
The long read
The fascist movement that has brought Mussolini back to the mainstream
Italy’s CasaPound has been central to normalising fascism again in the country of its birth. Now they’re trying to enter parliament. By Tobias Jones
Thu 22 Feb 2018 06.00 GMT
On the night of 27 December 2003, five men broke into a huge, empty office complex in Rome, just south of the city’s main railway station, Roma Termini. A few days earlier, the men had put up fake fliers, appealing to the public for help to find a lost black cat called “Pound”. It was a way to avoid suspicion as they surveyed the building before breaking in.
Nothing was left to chance: the date, between Christmas and New Year, was chosen because there wouldn’t be many people around. Even the name and colour of the cat wasn’t casual: “Pound” was a nod to the American poet and fascist evangelist Ezra Pound. And black was the colour associated with their hero, Benito Mussolini. They planned to start a radio station from inside their new building called Radio Bandiera Nera – “Black Flag Radio”.
The man giving orders that night was Gianluca Iannone. Then 30, he was tall, burly and brusque. With his shaved head and thick beard, he looked a bit like a Hells Angel. He had “me ne frego” (“I don’t care” – the slogan used by Mussolini’s troops) tattooed diagonally across the left side of his neck. Iannone was famous in fascist circles as the lead singer in a rock band called ZZA, and as the owner of a pub in Rome, the Cutty Sark, which was a meeting point for Rome’s extreme right.
The five men were nervous and excited as they took turns working on the wooden front door with crowbars. The others gathered close by, to watch and to provide cover. Once the door gave, they piled inside, pushing it shut behind them. What they found was breathtaking. There was a large entrance hall on the ground floor, a grand staircase, even a lift. There were 23 office suites in the seven-storey block. The previous occupier, a government quango, had moved out the year before, so the place was freezing and damp. But it was huge, covering thousands of square metres. The cherry on the cake was the terrace: a large, walled roof from which you could see the whole of Rome. The men gathered together up there and hugged, feeling that they had planted a flag in the centre of the Italian capital – in a gritty neighbourhood, Esquilino, which was home to many African and Asian immigrants. Iannone dubbed their building “the Italian embassy”.
That building became the headquarters of a new movement called CasaPound. Over the next 15 years, it would open another 106 centres across Italy. Iannone, who had been in the Italian army for three years, described each new centre as a “territorial reconquest”. Because every centre was self-financing, and because they claimed to “serve the people”, those new centres in turn opened gyms, pubs, bookshops, parachute clubs, diving clubs, motorbike clubs, football teams, restaurants, nightclubs, tattoo parlours and barbershops. CasaPound suddenly seemed everywhere. But it presented itself as something beyond politics: this was “metapolitics”, echoing the influential fascist philosopher Giovanni Gentile, who wrote in 1925 that fascism was “before all else a total conception of life”.
Until then, fascist revivals had usually been seen, by the Italian mainstream, as nostalgic, uncultured and thuggish. CasaPound was different. It presented itself as forward-looking, cultured, even inclusive. Iannone had been drawn to fascism in his youth because of a “fascination with the symbols”, and now he creatively mixed and matched code words, slogans and symbols from Mussolini’s ventennio” (as his 20-year rule is known), and turned them into 21st-century song lyrics, logos and political positions. In a country in which style and pose are paramount, CasaPound was fascism for hipsters. There were reports of violence, but that – for young men who felt aimless, sidelined, even emasculated – only added to the attraction. Many flocked to pay their €15 to become members.
By the early 2000s, it was no longer taboo for mainstream politicians to speak warmly of Mussolini: admirers of Il Duce had become government ministers, and many fringe, fascist parties were growing in strength – Forza Nuova, Fronte Sociale Nazionale, and various skinhead groups. But where the other fascists seemed like throwbacks to the 1930s, CasaPound focused on contemporary causes and staged creative campaigns: in 2006 they hung 400 mannequins all over Rome, with signs protesting about the city’s housing crisis. In 2012, CasaPound militants occupied the European Union’s office in Rome and dumped sacks of coal outside to protest on behalf of Italian miners. Many of their policies looked surprising: they were against immigration, of course, but on the supposedly “progressive” grounds that the exploitation of immigrant labourers represented a return to slavery.
Most Italians have been watching CasaPound with a mixture of fascination and alarm for 15 years, trying to work out quite what it is. The movement claims it is a democratic and credible variant of fascism, but it is accused of encouraging violence and racism. CasaPound militants have repeatedly told me that they’re a unifying force for Italy, but many Italians worry that they are merely recreating historical divisions in a society with a profound identity crisis.
That “CasaPound question” is now being posed with urgency, because it is aspiring to enter parliament next month. On 4 March, Italians will go to the polls in a general election in which centre-right and far-right parties are expected to triumph. CasaPound’s own electoral chances are slim: although in the past they have received nearly 10% of the vote in certain constituencies, they will need at least 3% of all votes nationwide to gain any parliamentary seats, which seems almost inconceivable. Still, the proliferation and growth of rival far-right parties is not a sign of the movement’s obsolescence, but of its success. For 15 years, CasaPound has been like the yeast in the far-right dough – the ingredient that makes everything around it rise.
CasaPound germinated in the late 1990s as a sort of Mussolini-admiring drinking club. Every Monday night, a dozen men would meet in the Cutty Sark and “plan what next,” as one recalled. It was there that Iannone met the man who would become his deputy, Simone Di Stefano. Di Stefano was two years younger and quieter, but a lifelong rightwing militant. “We were situationists trying to wake people up”, Di Stefano says, looking back, “bohemian artists based on models like Obey Giant [Shepard Fairey] and Banksy”.
In 1997, Iannone, Di Stefano and their mates had put up 10,000 stickers all over Rome: above eyeless faces, with barcoded foreheads and demented smiles, were just three unexplained words: Zeta Zero Alfa. It was the name of a punk rock band Iannone had decided to launch, its name hinting at both the American rock legends ZZ Top and at the notion that the world needed to go back to the beginning, back to the “alfa”.
Zetazeroalfa became, in the late 90s and early 2000s, an evangelising force for fascism. Touring all over Italy, the band sang raucous punk-rock songs with lyrics such as “nel dubbio, mena” (“if in doubt, beat up”) or “amo questo mio popolo fiero / che non conosce pace” (“I love this proud people / that doesn’t know peace”). In those early days, Iannone had about 100 hardcore fans, who doubled as roadies, crew, security and salesmen. The group sold as many T-shirts as they did CDs, with lines such as Picchia il vip (“beat up the VIP”) and Accademia della sassaiola (“academy of stone-throwing”). The song that became a crowd favourite was Cinghiamattanza, meaning “death by belt”: at all the gigs it became a ritual for fans to take off their belts and leather each other.
In those years, Iannone was more rock star than blackshirt. His informal movement was more about music than manifestos. CasaPound’s in-house lawyer, Domenico Di Tullio, was once the bassist and vocalist in a far-right band called Malabestia, “evil beast”. He was introduced to CasaPound when Iannone was teaching Thai boxing in a gym. “CasaPound has always been,” Di Tullio said, “halfway between politics and rock’n’roll.” Iannone was a canny entrepreneur: he co-founded a right-wing music label called “Rupe Tarpeia” – the name of the Roman rock from which traitors were thrown to their deaths.
Iannone – who was obsessed with Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club – had been arrested a few times for assault, once for beating up an off-duty carabiniere at Predappio, the burial shrine of Mussolini, because he was “drunk and being stupid”. Revisionist historians and rightwing politicians in the 1990s worked hard to rehabilitate Mussolini: expressing admiration for him was no longer considered heretical, but a sign of courageous thinking. Mussolini’s regime was airbrushed as benign – “he never killed anybody” said Silvio Berlusconi, who became prime minister for the first time in 1994 – and depicted as superior to the corruption and chaos of the avowedly anti-fascist First Republic that lasted from 1948 until 1992. Berlusconi and his far-right allies scorned the traditional anti-fascist celebrations of 25 April, the date of Italians’ liberation from Nazi fascism.
A canny politician, Berlusconi wasn’t setting this agenda but following it. He knew it was a vote-winner. Buildings all over Italy, but especially in the south, still bear the faded letters of the word “DUCE”. There are many monuments, and even a mountain, that still bear his name. A country that doesn’t renounce its past as much as absorb it, Italy was, by the turn of the millennium, more than ready to include Mussolini’s grandchildren in the body politic.
In July 2002 the militants who had gathered around Gianluca Iannone and ZZA occupied their first building, an abandoned school north of Rome. Occupations had always been a form of protest by the far left in Italy: many squats had become “social centres” and were tacitly tolerated by police and politicians. Now the far right was trying the tactic. Iannone called the occupied school Casa Montag, after the protagonist of the Ray Bradbury novel Fahrenheit 451, Guy Montag.
It was the first of many occasions in which CasaPound would confound ideological expectations. Most people read Bradbury’s novel as a critique of an anti-intellectual, totalitarian state, but for the CasaPounders it represented their own oppression by the forces of anti-fascism in Italian politics, who they regarded as metaphorical book-burners. Anticipating the rhetoric of the alt-right, CasaPound claimed to be a space “where debate is free”.
Within 18 months, though, Iannone’s men had upgraded and moved to the very centre of Rome, occupying the huge building in Esquilino. Their aim in 2003 wasn’t political in any parliamentary sense: the militants wanted to live cheaply together, to create a space for their ideals and, most of all, to make a statement.
In the entrance hall of their new home, CasaPounders painted a hundred or so surnames in garish colours, suggesting the ideological lineage of their movement. Many were obvious – Mussolini, Oswald Mosley, Nietzsche, the writer and proto-fascist Gabriele D’Annunzio, the Italian fascist philosopher Julius Evola – but many more were bizarre or wishful: Homer, Plato, Dante, Kerouac and even cartoon characters such as Captain Harlock and Corto Maltese. All were men.
The movement never hid its admiration for Benito Mussolini. Photos and slogans of Il Duce were put up. Every believer was referred to as a “camerato” (the fascist version of “comrade”) and exchanged the old-fashioned “legionary” handshake, grasping each other’s forearm rather than the hand. Above the door on the outside of the building, in beige, faux-marble, “CASAPOVND” appeared.
What made CasaPound unique was its game of smoke-and-mirrors with a fascinated Italian media. Both Di Stefano and Iannone were very media-savvy: Di Stefano was a graphic artist, and Iannone, after the army, had worked as a director’s assistant on Unomattina, a breakfast show on RAI, the state broadcaster. They promoted CasaPound via prank calls to newspapers, the invasion of TV studios, the frenetic production of posters and stickers, the organisation of debates and the occasional act of violence.
They also began pushing for policies the left had given up hope of ever hearing again, such as the renationalisation of Italy’s banking, communications, health, transport and energy sectors. They cited the most progressive aspects of Mussolini’s politics, focusing on his “social doctrines” regarding housing, unions, sanitation and a minimum wage. CasaPound accepted that the racial laws of 1938 (which introduced antisemitism and deportation) were “errors”; the movement claimed to be “opposed to any form of discrimination based on racial or religious criteria, or on sexual inclination”.
CasaPound’s concentration on housing also appealed to voters of the old left. Its logo was a turtle (an animal that always has a roof over its head) and Ezra Pound’s name was used in part because he had railed, in his poem Canto XLV, against rent (considered usury) and rapacious landlords. One of the first things CasaPound did in its occupied building was to hang sheets from the windows protesting against rent hikes and evictions – in 2009, there were an average of 25 evictions in Rome every day. They campaigned for a “social mortgage”, in which rental payments would effectively become mortgage payments, turning the tenant into a homeowner. Within months, they had given shelter to dozens of homeless families, as well as to many camerati down on their luck.
CasaPound presented itself as the house of the ideologically homeless too. Iannone said it offered “a space of liberty, where anyone who has something to say and can’t say it elsewhere will always find political asylum”. It adopted a pose of being not a part of the debate, but the receptacle of it. It reminded some of Mussolini’s line that “fascism is the church of all the heresies”.
Iannone was always a proponent of action. He knew fascism had always grown through taking the initiative: he spoke frequently about the proto-fascist arditi (“daring ones”), a squad of volunteers fighting under D’Annunzio, who seized the town of Fiume after the first world war in an attempt to resolve a border dispute between Italy and what was then Yugoslavia. Iannone knew that Mussolini had launched his first fascist manifesto from an occupied building in the piazza of San Sepolcro in Milan. But even here, in action, CasaPound was borrowing leftwing clothes: imitating the strategy of the Italian Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci, it aimed for what Gramsci had called “cultural hegemony” by infiltrating the cultural and leisure activities of everyday Italians.
So CasaPound began doing outreach on an unprecedented scale: in 2006 a student movement called Blocco Studentesco was started. A fascist women’s movement, Tempo di Essere Madri (“time to be a mother”), was founded by Iannone’s wife. A pseudo-environmental group, La Foresta Che Avanza, began in order to put “the regime into nature”. (Earlier this month, 200 volunteers from La Foresta gathered to repair the huge tribute to Mussolini – the word DUX, written with pine trees – on a mountainside in Antrodoco.) The media – whether intrigued, anxious or excited – reported on every initiative: as Di Stefano told me, “everything CasaPound did became news”.
There was plenty of ideological contortionism. In 2007, CasaPound started describing itself not as fascist, but as estremo centro alto (the name of a ZZA song, which means “extreme, high centre”). It namechecked improbable influences, such as Che Guevara and the great anarchist singer-songwriters Rino Gaetano and Fabrizio De André.
That obfuscation was a continuation of what Italian fascism, contrary to stereotype, had often done. Mussolini once said: “We don’t believe in dogmatic programmes … we allow ourselves the luxury of being aristocratic and democratic, conservatives and progressives, reactionaries and revolutionaries, legals and illegals”. Mussolini’s totalitarianism often implied not fierce clarity, but slipperiness. “Mussolini did not have a philosophy,” Umberto Eco once wrote. “He had only rhetoric.”
To political scientists, this creative, eccentric force from the political extremities was captivating. Between 2006 and 2014, dozens of books were published on the movement – some by CasaPound’s friends, but others by academic presses in Italy and abroad. The latter fretted about the sinister implications of Mussolini’s favourite slogan: libro e moschetto – fascista perfetto (the rhyme boasting that “book and musket” make the “perfect fascist”). How important, people wondered, was that “musket”? CasaPound sometimes relished its violent reputation, and was sometimes angered by it. It proudly called its occupations and stunts examples of guerrilla tactics, but other times their tone was softer: they were just atti goliardici, “bohemian acts”.
That paradoxical attitude towards violence was encapsulated in the huge red letters painted on a central wall of CasaPound’s HQ: “Santa Teppa” – Holy Mob. It was the phrase Mussolini once used to describe his blackshirts. CasaPound militants say that they’re constantly under attack from leftwing “social centres” and anti-fascists. When you get to know them, though, the position is slightly different. “We’re not a violent organisation,” one militant told me, “but we’re not non-violent either.”
The fierce fighting between Italy’s partisans and fascists from 1943 to 1945 – sometimes called the country’s civil war – continued sporadically after the end of the second world war. But ever since 1952, when a law was passed that criminalised efforts to resuscitate Mussolini’s fascist party, Italian fascists have seen themselves as the victims, rather than the instigators, of state repression. In reality, however, there was no Italian equivalent of Germany’s denazification: throughout the postwar period, one far-right political party – the Movimento Sociale Italiano (MSI) – kept alive the flame of Mussolini, at its height in 1972 winning 9% or 2.7m votes. Various radical splinter groups emerged from within the MSI – the most notorious being Pino Rauti’s Ordine Nuovo, which was involved in the bombing of a bank in 1969 that killed 17 civilians.
That atrocity was the beginning of a period known as “the years of lead”: in the 1970s, far-right and far-left groups fought, shot, bombed and kidnapped not only each other, but also the public and representatives of the state. Both sides used the rhetoric of the 1940s, recalling the heroism or disloyalty of the fascists and anti-fascists from three decades earlier.
But amid the violence of the 1970s, there were attempts to tap into the “softer” side of the far-right, with festivals where music, graphic design, history and ecology were discussed. They were called “Hobbit camps”, since JRR Tolkien had long been a hero for Italian neo-fascists, who liked to quote Bilbo Baggins’ line that “deep roots don’t freeze”. There was a popular leftwing slur that fascists belonged in the “sewers”, and so a magazine called La Voce della Fogna (“The Voice of the Sewer”) was launched by unapologetics.
The neo-fascist movement that most influenced CasaPound, Terza Posizione, was founded in 1978. It claimed to reject both capitalism and communism, and – like CasaPound – tried to revive Mussolini’s social policies. (Iannone has its symbol tattooed on the middle finger of his left hand. His deputy, Simone Di Stefano, spent a year in London working with one of the Terza Posizione founders in the 1990s.)
In the same year, two young militants were shot outside the offices of the MSI in Acca Larentia in Rome. That evening, when a journalist allegedly disrespected the victims by flicking a cigarette butt in a pool of blood, a riot began in which a third young man was killed by a policeman. Other deaths followed that initial bloodshed: the father of one of the young men killed committed suicide. On the first anniversary of Acca Larentia, another militant was killed by police.
Acca Larentia seemed proof, to fascists, that they were sitting ducks. Some renounced extremism altogether, but others simply took it further. A far-right terrorist organisation, NAR (the “nuclei of armed revolutionaries”) was founded and took part in various killings and the bombing of Bologna railway station in 1980, in which 85 people died. As a state crackdown on the far-right began, the three founders of Terza Posizione fled abroad and the leaders of NAR were either killed or imprisoned.
For a generation, through the 1980s and early 1990s,fascism seemed finished. But when Silvio Berlusconi burst into politics looking for anti-communist allies, he identified the MSI as his ideal political partner. The party renamed itself the National Alliance, and became the second-largest component in Berlusconi’s ruling centre-right coalition in 1994. The wind had changed completely: many of the militants on the far-right in the 1970s – old hands from the MSI – were now in government. In 1999 the three founders of Terza Posizione returned from exile.
That was the context in which CasaPound, in the early 2000s, first began to flourish: it was full of marginalised men who had grown up in the wilderness years of the 80s and early 90s. They were convinced that fascists had been mistreated and killed by “communist hatred and servants of the state”, as a plaque memorialising the murders at Acca Larentia put it.
But in fact, their bread was buttered on both sides: they presented themselves as underdogs, but their ideological fathers were now at the very top of Italian political power. They could claim to be the victims of repressive laws banning the revival of fascism, but because those laws were never enforced, they could proselytise with impunity.
By 2005, CasaPound was toying with electoral politics. One its militants stood for election in Lazio on the electoral list of one of Berlusconi’s cabinet ministers, who had been a press officer of the MSI. From 2006 until 2008 CasaPound joined another offshoot of the MSI, the “Tricolour Flame”. Neither alliance produced any seats in parliament, but both afforded more publicity and “respectability” to the slow-moving but determined “turtle”.
In 2008, Gianni Alemanno, who had been imprisoned as a far-right militant, became mayor of Rome. He looked on CasaPound’s occupations with a decidedly indulgent eye – and that same year CasaPound occupied another building: an abandoned railway station near the Stadio Olimpico. Called Area 19 (1919 was the year Mussolini announced the first fascist manifesto), it became a gym by day and nightclub by night.
Meanwhile young CasaPound heavies enjoyed public shows of force. In 2009, Blocco Studentesco – CasaPound’s youth movement – came to Rome’s central square, Piazza Navona, armed with truncheons painted with the Italian tricolor. They found a use for them on leftwing students. When one TV programme criticised Blocco Studentesco, its offices were “occupied” by CasaPound militants.
On 13 December 2011, Gianluca Casseri, a CasaPound sympathiser in Tuscany, left home with a Magnum 357 in his bag. He was a taciturn loner, 50 years old, rotund with short, grey hair, but had found a home in CasaPound: he had held a launch for his fantasy novel – The Keys of Chaos – at the local club.
On that December morning, Casseri had a plan to shoot as many immigrants as possible. He went to a square in Florence and, at 12.30pm, killed two Senegalese men, Samb Modou and Diop Mor. He shot another man, Moustapha Dieng, in the back and throat and then got in his blue VW Polo and drove off. Just over two hours later, Casseri was at the city’s central market, where he shot two more men, Sougou Mor and Mbenghe Cheike, who survived the attack. He then turned his gun on himself in the market’s underground carpark.
After Casseri’s murders, CasaPound’s leaders were invited on to national television to face the accusation that they were fomenting violence. In a special programme about the killings, the former president of the Rai TV channel accused Iannone of having “ideologically armed” the killer. Ezra Pound’s daughter, Mary de Rachewiltz, began a legal action (which she eventually lost) to stop CasaPound using and sullying her father’s name. “They distort his ideas”, she said, “they’re violent. [My father] wanted an encounter between civilisations.”
It was true that CasaPound’s language and imagery was relentlessly combative. In its Rome bookshop – “Iron Head” – you can buy posters of insurgents from far-flung civil wars with automatic weapons wearing ZZA T-shirts. They speak about “trincerocrazia”, an “-ocracy” for people who have done their time in the trenches. The shell of their turtle logo also has a military meaning: it represents the testuggine, the carapace of shields used by the Roman army. All of this makes the movement edgy and decidedly testosteronic: 87% of the movement’s Facebook supporters are male and 62% are between 16 and 30.
It’s a movement that is tight, compact and united. When you’re among the militants inside that shell, the disdain for the outside world is almost cultish. The separation between insider and outsider is clear and loyalty is total: “I do whatever Gianluca [Iannone] tells me to”, one female militant has said. The movement has published a political and historical glossary for all novice militants, so they always know what to say.
Iannone himself is forcefully charismatic and physically imposing – tall, tattooed and gravel-voiced – and perhaps even bears a slight resemblance to Mussolini. It’s easy to see why lost youngsters might be desperate to please (and scared to displease) him. “He’s a very pure leader”, Di Stefano told me, with evident admiration, as we took a walk with his two chihuahuas – called “Punk” and “Rock”.
By 2013, aggressive leadership was what a lot of Italians were longing for. The country was facing an unprecedented crisis of confidence. In 2010 youth unemployment was at almost 30%, and would rise to over 40% by 2015. That year, Italy’s national statistics office suggested that almost 5 million Italians were living in “absolute poverty”. The degradation in certain suburbs – the lack of rubbish collections was just the most visible example – suggested that the Italian state was, in places, almost entirely absent. The success of the populist Five Star Movement – coming from nowhere to win 25.55% of the vote in the 2013 elections – showed the Italian electorate would respond to a party that was angry and anti-establishment. (The fathers of two of the leading lights of the Five Star Movement, Luigi Di Maio and Alessandro Di Battista, were both in the MSI.)
By then CasaPound was becoming known far beyond Italy. The lift in its Rome HQ was covered by stickers with the logos of far-right pilgrims from across the globe. CasaPound had always voraciously consumed foreign trends and repackaged them for an Italian audience: it had absorbed the anticapitalist ideas of France’s Nouvelle Droite (“new right”) movement, and built friendships with members of Greece’s neo-Nazi Golden Dawn. Now French visitors started talking about a 2012 book by Renaud Camus called The Great Replacement: it spoke of the idea that native Europeans would soon be completely sidelined and substituted by waves of immigrants. It was a theory that had caught on in the US. This was the root of the “identitarian” doctrine, which claimed that globalisation had created a homogeneous culture with no distinct national or cultural identities. True pluralism – “ethnopluralism” – would mean racial separation.
These ideas famously influenced both Steve Bannon at Breitbart and the American white supremacist leader Richard Spencer – but they also percolated into the thinking of CasaPound’s cultural attache, Adriano Scianca. Scianca, who lives in Umbria, is the editor of CasaPound’s magazine, Primato Nazionale (which has a circulation, they say, of 25,000). In 2016 he published a book called The Sacred Identity: “The cancellation of a people from the face of the earth,” he wrote, “is factually the number one [aim] in the diary of all the global oligarchs.” It sounds silly, but these ideas soon made their way into mainstream newspapers – and very quickly racial separation became official CasaPound policy.
Throughout 2014 and 2015, CasaPound leaders organised rallies against asylum centres that were due to open. They formed a movement, with Matteo Salvini’s Northern League (a formerly separatist movement which was, by then, purely nationalist) called Sovereignty: “Italians First” was the slogan. All over Italy – from Gorizia to Milan, from Vicenza to Genoa – every time a vacant building was converted into an asylum centre, CasaPound members would make friends among the locals opposing the centres, distributing food parcels, clearing rubbish, and offering strategies and strong-arms. (CasaPound argued that because a proportion of immigrants had arrived illegally, their opposition was about legality rather than race.)
Simone Di Stefano is CasaPound’s political leader and its most prominent candidate in next week’s elections. With his neat, salt-and-pepper hair and trim beard, he looks like any other moderate politician. But his problem is now the opposite of his rhetoric: it’s not that the Italian establishment excludes the far-right from politics, but that there are now so many far right parties, CasaPound seems just one among many. Di Stefano is, therefore, distinguishing himself by campaigning to leave the European Union and urging a military intervention in Libya to halt the flow of migrants: “We have to resolve the problem of Africa,” he told me.
These ideas are not likely to appeal to many Italian voters – but CasaPound’s job is already done. It has been essential to the normalisation of fascism. At the end of 2017, Il Tempo newspaper announced Benito Mussolini as its “person of the year”. It wasn’t being facetious: Il Duce barged into the news agenda every week last year. A few weeks ago, even a leftwing politician in Florence said that “nobody in this country has done more than Mussolini”. Today, 73 years after his death, he is more admired than traditional Italian heroes such as Giuseppes Garibaldi and Mazzini.
CasaPound has also been a participant in an escalating political conflict in which violence – both verbal and physical – has become commonplace. When you speak to CasaPound militants, they’re quick to say they only commit violence in self-defence, but their definition of self-defence is extremely elastic. Luca Marsella, a top colonel in the movement, once said to 14-year-old schoolchildren who were protesting against a new CasaPound centre: “I’ll cut your throats like dogs, I’ll kill all of you.” Another militant was convicted of beating up leftwing activists in Rome in 2011 when they were putting up posters. Another activist, Giovanni Battista Ceniti, was involved in a murder, though – as Iannone pointed out – he had already been expelled from CasaPound for “intellectual laziness”. In February last year, in Viterbo, two militants, Jacopo Polidori and Michele Santini, beat up a man who had dared to post an ironic comment about CasaPound on Facebook. A leftwing site has compiled an interactive map of episodes of reported fascist violence across the peninsula – and there are so many incidents that you can barely see the boot of Italy.
Then, earlier this month, a man who had previously stood for election with the far-right Northern League, and had ties to CasaPound, went on a two-hour shooting rampage in the town of Macerata. Luca Traini fired his Glock pistol at anyone with black skin. What was shocking wasn’t just the bloodshed (he injured six people, but all survived), but that it all seemed unsurprising in the current climate. Traini’s inspiration was old-fashioned fascism: he had the “Wolfsangel” rune (used by both Nazis and Italy’s Terza Posizione) on his forehead. He gave a Roman salute at the monument to Italy’s war dead.
But in the aftermath of his shooting, mainstream politicians on the so-called centre-right blamed immigration, not Traini. Berlusconi, who has embraced the far right as he attempts to engineer another election win, spoke of a “social bomb” created by foreigners. Italy, he said, needs to deport 600,000 illegal immigrants.
On Sunday 7 January this year, CasaPound organised a mass rally in Rome to mark the 40th anniversary of the Acca Larentia killings. Four or five thousand people turned up, many wearing similar clothes: bomber jackets and black beanies, military fatigues or drainpipe jeans. There were 50 men in red CasaPound bibs, the security detail, shepherding the troops. Not everyone was a CasaPound militant, but the other groups all fell in behind Gianluca Iannone and Simone di Stefano. This, it was clear, was their show.
Gianluca Iannone at the 7 January CasaPound rally in Rome.
Gianluca Iannone at the 7 January CasaPound rally in Rome. Photograph: Stefano Montesi - Corbis/Corbis via Getty Images
They walked the half-mile to the site of the killings in silence. “We’re here, and always will be” was the implicit message. In front was a huge banner, held up by 20 foot batons, saying “honour to the fallen camerati”. There was a police escort in case it kicked off, but the only tension was from honking drivers, fed up of waiting an hour for the river of humans to pass.
At the end of the march, CasaPound security guards lined up the troops in the courtyard where their three camerati fell. On the road either side, the rest of the marchers gathered. A voice called all the camerati to attention. In one split second, hands dropped to sides, and feet were pulled together. “Per tutti i camerati caduti”, a voice barked. All the men raised their right arms in a straight-arm salute: “Presenti!” they shouted. The noise was so loud that a car alarm went off, and dogs started to bark. The ritual was repeated twice more, then the voice barked “at ease”, and the troops dispersed, heading home in the cold January night.
In 15 years, CasaPound has grown so large that its initial ambition – to be accepted into the theatre of “open debate” – is now obsolete. Instead, its leaders now talk of eradicating anti-fascism entirely. Having once presented itself as playful, it is now deadly serious: “I’ll be a fascist as long as anti-fascists exist”, Iannone says. Fascism, he enthuses, was “the greatest revolution in the world, the completion of the Risorgimento [Italian unification]”. Mussolini’s regime was “the most beautiful moment of this nation”. When you ask him if the anti-fascists aren’t also, as the national anthem says, brothers of Italy, he stares out from under his heavy eyelids: “Cain and Abel,” he says, “were brothers.”
quinta-feira, 22 de fevereiro de 2018
Juntas de Lisboa querem mais poderes, dinheiro e melhores remunerações
21 Fevereiro, 2018
Depois de quatro anos a exercerem novas competências, antes depositadas nas mãos da Câmara Municipal de Lisboa (CML), as juntas de freguesia da capital querem aprofundar o processo de descentralização. E acham que apenas poderão realizar as suas funções de forma adequada, respondendo assim às solicitações dos fregueses, se virem alterado o quadro legal em que operam, reforçados os orçamentos e alterado o estatuto dos seus eleitos – com a correspondente revisão da remuneração, permitindo o exercício dos mandatos em regime de permanência. Pedem, por isso, ao Governo, uma alteração legislativa nesse sentido. E têm o apoio da CML, que, apesar de qualificar como “enorme sucesso” a delegação de competências nas juntas, considera que a cidade 2018 é muito diferente da que existia em 2012.
A reforma agora proposta trata-se, no fundo, da formalização daquilo que começou a ser ouvido amiúde, aquando da assunção das novas responsabilidades: as juntas de freguesia da capital passaram a funcionar com “mini-câmaras municipais”. E a nova dinâmica da cidade, com destaque para o turismo, veio afinal aumentar-lhes responsabilidades e despesas. Há que agir em conformidade, pede-se. As exigências fazem parte de uma recomendação e de uma proposta aprovadas pelo plenário da Assembleia Municipal de Lisboa (AML), na tarde desta terça-feira (20 de fevereiro), tendo por base as conclusões do oitavo e último relatório de avaliação da Reforma Administrativa de Lisboa.
Apesar de os considerandos dessa recomendação da AML à Câmara Municipal de Lisboa (CML) – que foi redigida em conjunto por Inês Drummond (PS), presidente da Junta de Freguesia de Benfica, e Luís Newton (PSD), presidente da Junta de Freguesia da Estrela – fazerem um balanço claramente positivo da descentralização de competências implementada a partir de março de 2014, pede-se um aprofundamento do processo. No mesmo texto, refere-se a necessidade de se rever o “elenco de missões de interesse geral e comum a toda ou parte significativa da cidade, bem como dos espaços, das vias e dos equipamentos de natureza estruturante para a cidade”.
Em causa está, alegam os relatores, a distinção das funções que realmente competem à câmara e às juntas. Estas queixam-se de terem recebidos meios insuficientes ou já em fim de vida. É dado o exemplo das viaturas afectas ao serviço de limpeza e de higiene urbana ou dos equipamentos instalados em escolas. Mas também da sinalização vertical espalhada pela cidade. Solicita-se, por isso, a criação de uma “nova geração de contratos de delegações de competências” entre a CML e as juntas.
“O desenvolvimento global da cidade, nomeadamente, com o acréscimo de actividades várias na cidade, sejam elas de natureza recreativa, cultural, desportiva e social, bem como o aumento significativo do turismo gerou necessidades que não eram, de todo, previsíveis à data da Reforma Administrativa”, lê-se na proposta, antes de se acrescentar: “Entre tais necessidades, é hoje absolutamente pacífico o reconhecimento da necessidade do reforço dos serviços de limpeza pela cidade e, particularmente, nas zonas de maior pressão turística e nocturna.
A este respeito, as Juntas de Freguesia têm vindo a procurar responder de acordo com os meios que têm ao seu dispor, que urge reconhecer são manifestamente insuficientes para fazer face às atuais necessidades da cidade”. Além disso, invoca-se, “a cidade dispõe hoje de um conjunto de novos e renovados equipamentos, à disposição dos cidadãos, que não existiam ou estavam inactivos, à data da Reforma, razão pela qual não foram previstos os respectivos custos de funcionamento, manutenção e conservação”.
Os representantes das 24 juntas de freguesia de Lisboa salientam que já estão, em grande medida, a assumir tal aumento de despesa não prevista – “em nome da valorização do seu território e da melhoria da qualidade de vida das suas populações”. E desejam, por isso, a criação de “contratos interadministrativos” entre freguesias e CML “com vista à salvaguarda e necessária articulação dos interesses dos cidadãos, no respeito e consideração pela coesão social e preservação da qualidade do ambiente urbano”.
Uma das preocupações principais das juntas é a necessidade de ficar bem claro que os custos com a manutenção dos equipamentos considerados “estruturantes” para a cidade serão pagos pela autarquia liderada por Fernando Medina. Mas não se ficam por aqui. Pretendem também que a CML assegure a “substituição e reforço dos materiais e equipamentos transferidos, que se revelaram defeituosos ou obsoletos, designadamente na área da limpeza urbana e prevendo o fornecimento da sinalização vertical”.
Mas, para além destes pedidos à Câmara de Lisboa, as freguesias e a Assembleia Municipal de Lisboa querem também uma mudança legislativa, que, a concretiza-se, terá um forte impacto: mais dinheiro, mais poderes e a revisão do estatuto dos eleitos locais das freguesias da capital, com a respectiva alteração do seu estatuto remuneratório. A criação de um grupo de trabalho sobre o processo legislativo da descentralização foi a solução criada pela assembleia municipal. Este grupo ouvirá a CML e as juntas, com o objectivo de produzir uma proposta de recomendação para futuras negociações entre o executivo municipal e o Governo relativas à desejada alteração legislativa.
Independentemente das outras questões e necessidades que venham a surgir no decurso das audições, já se conhece a parte essencial do caderno reivindicativo que o grupo de trabalho da AML remeterá para administração central: Ajustamento dos recursos financeiro; Reforço das verbas; Reforço e clarificação das competências próprias das Juntas de Freguesia; e Revisão do estatuto dos eleitos locais das freguesias de Lisboa. Apenas o PCP e o PEV (Partido Ecologista “Os Verdes”) votaram contra a criação deste grupo de trabalho, tendo o PAN abstido-se – as restantes forças votaram a favor.
Tendo por base a lei de 2012 que desenhou a reforma administrativa da cidade – com a redução de 53 para 24 freguesias, em outubro de 2013, e a descentralização de competências CML para as juntas, em março de 2014 -, os deputados municipais e as juntas pedem, através do processo agora iniciado, um ajustamento financeiro que compreenda “as alterações e ajustes identificados como considerados necessários” e um reforço de verbas que dê resposta à “regularização de vínculos precários na administração pública”. Ainda com essa lei como referencial, é solicitado ao Governo o “reforço e clarificação das competências próprias” das juntas “como forma de se aprofundar o ímpeto descentralizador em que cidade de Lisboa foi pioneira no país”.
A grande novidade está, contudo, reservada para a quarta e última recomendação – para já – de alteração legislativa: a revisão do estatuto dos eleitos locais das freguesias de Lisboa, “nomeadamente no que respeita a delegação de competências do presidente nos vogais e pessoal dirigente, alargamento do exercício dos mandatos em regime de permanência e estatuto remuneratório”. Ou seja, pede-se o alargamento às juntas de um sistema de funcionamento em tudo similar ao das vereações municipais.
Antes da aprovação, pelo plenário da assembleia municipal, deste grupo de trabalho para iniciar o processo de revisão da lei, o vice-presidente da autarquia, Duarte Cordeiro, lembrou o “enorme sucesso” da reforma administrativa encetada há quatro anos, mas falou na necessidade de a melhorar. Apesar dos ganhos na melhoria da qualidade de vida da população, disse, “é absolutamente evidente que uma reforma desta dimensão precisa de ser acompanhada e reformulada, se necessário”. “Ao fim de quatro anos, há matérias que carecem de ser modificadas. E isso exige uma reformulação da lei ou novos contratos”, disse o autarca, referindo-se aos anunciados contratos interadministrativos – contra os quais votaram também o PCP e o PEV, tendo PAN e MPT abstido-se.
A criação de uma nova forma de “autorização prévia genérica” para a Câmara Municipal de Lisboa poder delegar competências nas juntas foi o ponto mais contestado na sessão desta terça-feira. O Bloco de Esquerda (BE), pela voz do deputado municipal Rui Costa, considerou mesmo que tal prorrogativa “é ilegal”. “As delegações de competências têm que ser discutidas uma a uma, aqui na assembleia municipal”, disse. Já o CDS-PP, através de Diogo Moura, equiparou a referida autorização prévia a um “cheque em branco”. Por isso, ambos os partidos, BE e CDS-PP, votaram contra, tal como PCP, PEV, PAN e PPM. O MPT absteve-se. Duarte Cordeiro considerou esta nova “autorização prévia genérica” de delegação de competências como uma “forma de agilização”.
Estação Sul e Sueste entra em obras "em breve", diz Medina
É um projecto antigo da autarquia que quer recuperar a estação e transformá-la num “terminal de actividade marítimo-turística”. A obra já devia estar concluída, mas ainda não arrancou.
CRISTIANA FARIA MOREIRA 21 de Fevereiro de 2018, 16:54
A previsão, quando em Setembro de 2016 foi assinado o protocolo para a reabilitação da Estação Sul e Sueste, era que a obra deveria estar concluída no final do ano passado. No entanto, a gare fluvial, projectada por Cottinelli Telmo e inaugurada em 1932, continua fechada, mas o presidente da câmara de Lisboa disse agora que o arranque da recuperação da estação será “em breve”.
Fernando Medina falava aos jornalistas no final da assinatura do protocolo da intervenção de requalificação da zona do Campo das Cebolas/Doca da Marinha que decorreu na manhã desta quarta-feira, com a presença da a ministra do Mar, Ana Paula Vitorino, do secretário de Estado da Defesa, Marcos Perestrello, da presidente da Administração do Porto de Lisboa, Lídia Sequeira, e do chefe de Estado Maior da Armada, António Silva Ribeiro.
“Já contávamos que a obra tivesse arrancado, mas há um debate técnico que está a ser tido por causa das infra-estruturas do metro”, disse o autarca. O atraso, explicou Fernando Medina, deve-se a um aterro que foi feito por causa obras do metropolitano, quando a terra aluiu junto ao Terreiro do Paço, obrigando à interrupção da empreitada.
Segundo explicou o presidente da câmara, na altura, foram construídas “soluções de segurança e estão a ser avaliados com o Laboratório Nacional de Engenharia Civil (LNEC) os termos do projecto para que não haja qualquer problema”.
Este projecto é há muito ambicionado pela câmara de Lisboa, que quer converter a estação, classificada como monumento de interesse público desde 2012, num “terminal de actividade marítimo-turística”. Assim foi apresentado o projecto para o local, na altura da assinatura do protocolo que passou para o edifício, até ali da Comboios de Portugal (CP), para as mãos da autarquia.
Segundo avançou a Associação de Turismo de Lisboa nessa ocasião, estaria em causa um investimento de cerca de sete milhões de euros. Um valor que englobaria a intervenção no imóvel (de acordo com um projecto de Ana Costa, neta de Cottinelli Telmo), mas também a requalificação do espaço público envolvente.
A “peça que faltava" na requalificação da frente ribeirinha
A par da requalificação da estação, a intervenção na Doca da Marinha, disse Fernando Medina, era "a peça que faltava" na recuperação da frente ribeirinha até ao terminal de cruzeiros. Cumpre-se assim a parte que falta do projecto de Carrilho da Graça, o arquitecto responsável pela mudança do espaço público no Campo das Cebolas, onde as obras estão a terminar.
Trata-se de “devolver o rio à cidade”, notou o autarca. Como o PÚBLICO noticiou na terça-feira, a grande alteração é a demolição do muro que separa a doca da Avenida Infante D. Henrique, que vai ser reperfilada, dando lugar a um grande passeio arborizado, com ciclovia, desde o Terreiro do Paço até Santa Apolónia.
Outras construções serão demolidas, dando origem a uma zona "ampla, larga, aberta ao rio, onde poderá depois haver construções de natureza provisória", que, segundo explicou Medina, funcionarão como estruturas de apoio, de restauração, ou outros equipamentos, "até de natureza cultural", que a autarquia está a estudar e a avaliar.
“O nosso sonho depois é que possamos ter aquela Doca da Marinha como posto de acostagem regular, quer do Sagres, quer do Creoula, permitindo a visita das pessoas a estes dois navios emblemáticos que estão na Marinha Portuguesa”, disse Fernando Medina aos jornalistas.
Não há, para já, data para o arranque da obra. Questionado sobre o assunto, o autarca da capital sublinhou que esta é uma das obras em que terá “empenho” que esteja concluída ainda neste mandato.
Sem adiantar valores, o autarca reforçou que o investimento será suportado pelo município. Nos termos do protocolo, a câmara de Lisboa terá ainda o encargo de construir um novo edifício para a Marinha na doca de Santo Amaro, para onde serão transferidos os equipamentos que estão actualmente nas instalações da Doca da Marinha.
Uma vez cumprido este projecto, notou Fernando Medina, estará concluída a recuperação integral do Terreiro do Paço até ao novo terminal de cruzeiros. O autarca deixou ainda a intenção de, durante este mandato, ter também toda a zona de Santa Apolónia requalificada.
Direcção de Património envia à UNESCO projecto para estação de São Bento / Pouca terra e vistas curtas: Estação de São Bento ou Grand Central Station?
Pouca terra e vistas curtas: Estação de São Bento ou Grand Central Station?
Rui Moreira vai continuar a observar serenamente a destruição da principal estação ferroviária do Porto?
MARIA MANUEL ROLA
22 de Fevereiro de 2018, 6:28 Partilhar notícia
A Estação de São Bento é, no Porto, um edifício importante como espaço público que cruza memória coletiva, história e enraizamento da população com vida, movimento e multiplicidade. Por ser um garante da mobilidade e coesão social a nível regional, o projeto para ali proposto não pode deixar de ter em conta todas estas características.
Abandonada há demasiado tempo pelas Infraestruturas de Portugal, aliás, tal como todo o Centro Histórico do Porto — não obstante ser Património da Unesco desde 1996 —, São Bento ficou também votada ao esquecimento pela Câmara do Porto. Nem uns nem outros se preocuparam com o que ali se poderia instalar. E continuam. Usam agora a panaceia do abandono que é a máscara do imobilismo: usada para desculpabilizar a falta de intervenção pública, glorifica a resposta uniforme do mercado e não serve o Porto, a região ou a estação.
Este espaço é diversidade. Entre os viajantes que a frequentam e a população que a utiliza, o projeto de São Bento pode incluir cafés e livrarias (de viagens, por que não?) e incorporar um polo da biblioteca municipal com jornais e computadores de livre acesso. Pode conter um albergue para sem-abrigo tal como já ali cabe um hostel para os viajantes. E ainda conter um centro interpretativo e pequenas lojas de frescos e produtos provenientes das zonas percorridas pelas linhas férreas que ali convergem. Pensar São Bento é ponderar todas as vidas que ali se cruzam e reconhecer que as estações querem-se vivas.
Defender a Estação de São Bento começa por respeitar o seu contexto e impedir que seja convertida em mais um espaço comercial monocórdico, entregue a multinacionais colonizadoras de espaços singulares em todas as cidades. O pouco da proposta que se conhece é isso mesmo, a resposta fácil e de vistas curtas, sem identidade própria, inovação ou que fomente a economia local. Entre uma espécie de shopping gourmet e um espaço ao abandono, sempre existiu outra hipótese: criar espaços públicos multifuncionais, abertos à diversidade e onde se produzem encontros para além do promovido pelo mero consumo.
E é preciso clareza no processo. O Ministério do Planeamento e das Infraestruturas, tal como o Ministério da Cultura, devem uma explicação ao Porto. Foi nesse sentido que o Bloco de Esquerda questionou o Governo sobre o processo de concessão dos espaços da estação e dos projetos aprovados, indagando igualmente sobre o nível de envolvimento da Câmara do Porto nessas decisões. Ao que sabemos, existem dois projetos com parecer positivo pela Direção-Geral do Património Cultural, informação que este serviço não desmentiu. Já a Time Out e o presidente da câmara confirmaram a existência do projeto em altura do arquiteto Souto Moura.
E é aqui que se levantam questões sobre a intervenção da câmara. Respostas como Starbucks e mercados Time Out são o espelho das propostas que surgem invariavelmente quando se reabilitam este género de espaços. E é também invariável que sejam aceites sem oposição. Rui Moreira, que todas as semanas se bate pela importancia do aeroporto, vai continuar a observar serenamente a destruição arquitetónica e patrimonial da principal estação ferroviária do Porto? É aceitável que, passados dois anos deste processo, governo, Câmara Municipal do Porto e SRU não se tenham já sentado à mesa para clarificar o destino de São Bento?
O que o município tem poder de reivindicar são propostas e processos de envolvimento da comunidade em que o património se insere. Falamos de quê? De um projeto conduzido pelos poderes públicos locais e nacionais e não pelos apetites do mercado. De uma ideia de estação que envolva a população que a frequenta, do morador suburbano ao turista, do sem-abrigo ao viajante, dos vendedores aos artistas de rua. Se for apenas um projeto de mercado, sabemos o destino: quem não consome não cabe, quem afasta “clientes” é afastado por seguranças. Ora, o Porto não deve querer higienizar um espaço seu para fazer desaparecer uma parte da sua população, mas sim aproveitar um lugar como aquele para promover o encontro entre modos de fazer cidade. O Porto não é Lisboa e também não tem de ser Londres ou Nova Iorque.
A autora escreve segundo o novo Acordo Ortográfico
Direcção de Património envia à UNESCO projecto para estação de São Bento
DGPC justifica a diligência com o facto de a estação estar inserida na zona do Património Mundial e por estar classificada como imóvel de interesse público
LUSA 21 de Fevereiro de 2018, 17:22
A intervenção na estação do centro do Porto tem sido contestada
A Direcção-Geral do Património Cultural (DGPC) revelou esta quarta-feira que enviou para a UNESCO o Pedido de Informação Prévia (PIP) do projecto do arquitecto Eduardo Souto de Moura para a Estação de São Bento, no centro histórico do Porto, Património Mundial.
A DGPC esclarece estar em causa "o PIP do projecto para a ala sul" da estação ferroviária centenária, onde a empresa Time Out pretende instalar um conceito similar ao que foi inaugurado em Lisboa com o Mercado da Ribeira.
De acordo com a DGPC, a avaliação da UNESCO justifica-se porque São Bento está "inscrita na lista do Património da Humanidade", inserindo-se na classificação do 'Centro Histórico do Porto, Ponte Luiz I e Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar'", para além de ser "Imóvel de Interesse Público", uma classificação que abrange "a gare metálica, os painéis de azulejos e a boca do túnel".
"A DGPC mandou para a UNESCO o PIP do projecto para a ala sul da estação de São Bento, da autoria do arquitecto Eduardo Souto de Moura, ao abrigo do Parágrafo 172 das Orientações técnicas da UNESCO", esclarece aquele organismo numa nota enviada à Lusa.
O projecto inicial da Time Out para aquele local foi arquivado em Janeiro de 2017 pela Porto Vivo - Sociedade de Reabilitação Urbana (SRU), depois de a empresa pedir a suspensão da apreciação do PIP. Em causa estava um mercado com 2200 metros quadrados, 500 lugares, 15 restaurantes, quatro bares, quatro lojas, uma cafetaria e uma galeria de arte.
Recentemente, o BE revelou ter dirigido uma pergunta ao Ministério da Cultura sobre o que diz ser uma torre com seis pisos e mais de 18 metros de altura proposta pelo arquitecto Souto de Moura para a área da estação de São Bento.
Na reunião camarária do passado dia 6, o presidente da Câmara do Porto, Rui Moreira, declarou-se tranquilo quanto ao novo projecto para a estação de São Bento, por ter obtido da SRU a garantia de que o mesmo não avançava "sem autorização da autarquia". Na mesma sessão do executivo, o PS revelou que estará em causa uma torre com "mais de 20 metros de altura".
Na sexta-feira, o PCP apresentou no Parlamento um projecto de resolução para "recomendar ao Governo que inicie, com a maior urgência possível, o processo de delimitação e criação da Zona Especial de Protecção (ZEP) do Centro Histórico do Porto".
No documento, a que a Lusa teve acesso no domingo, o PCP alerta que a protecção foi constituída "depois da classificação daquela zona como Património da Humanidade" (1996), através de publicação "em Diário da República", mas acabou "anulada" por "impugnação judicial da Câmara de Vila Nova de Gaia".
O PCP acrescenta que este mecanismo de protecção "assume particular importância quando a Câmara do Porto, por via da SRU, juntamente com a Administração Central, por via da Direcção-Geral do Património Cultural, se prepara para intervir na Estação de São Bento, Monumento Classificado como Imóvel de Interesse Público e dentro do perímetro do Património Mundial".
Hoje, a DGPC justifica o envio do processo para a UNESCO porque a estação "está classificada como Imóvel de Interesse Público" desde 1997, notando que a classificação se designa "Estação de São Bento, incluindo a gare metálica, os painéis de azulejos e a boca do túnel".
A DGPC acrescenta que a estação "está também inscrita na lista do Património da Humanidade, porque se insere na classificação do 'Centro Histórico do Porto, Ponte Luiz I e Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar'".
A instalação de um projecto da Time Out em S. Bento tem sido alvo de críticas desde que foi tornada pública, a 5 de Outubro de 2016, aquando do centenário da inauguração da Estação de S. Bento.
Na ocasião, o ministro do Planeamento anunciou que seriam instalados no edifício um hostel, um mercado "Time Out, uma loja Starbucks, um café, 15 restaurantes, quatro bares e uma galeria de arte, a concluir até finais de 2017.
A Câmara do Porto anunciou, então, desconhecer qualquer projecto e, em sessão do executivo, alertou que "não prescindia" de se pronunciar sobre o projeto da Time Out, por estar em causa um edifício classificado.
quarta-feira, 21 de fevereiro de 2018
Obras da frente ribeirinha chegam à Doca da Marinha
Intervenção irá concluir parte do projecto de João Carrilho da Graça.
JOÃO PEDRO PINCHA 20 de Fevereiro de 2018, 22:00
A Doca da Marinha é o próximo espaço da frente ribeirinha de Lisboa que vai ter obras. A câmara assina esta quarta-feira um protocolo com a Marinha e a Administração do Porto de Lisboa para requalificar aquela área, que se estende desde a Estação Sul e Sueste até ao novo terminal de cruzeiros.
Trata-se, essencialmente, de cumprir a parte que faltava do projecto de João Carrilho da Graça, que foi o arquitecto responsável pela mudança do espaço público no Campo das Cebolas – cujas obras estão quase a acabar (já com atraso superior a um ano).
“A grande operação aqui realizada, além da reformulação do programa edificado, é a demolição do muro periférico que actualmente separa [a doca] da avenida, dando lugar a um grande passeio arborizado, que desde Santa Apolónia se estende ao Terreiro do Paço, sendo também suporte dos percursos de mobilidade suave”, lê-se na memória descritiva do projecto.
Na fotomontagem disponibilizada pela câmara ao PÚBLICO vê-se uma alameda pedonal repleta de árvores a ladear a zona viária da Avenida Infante Dom Henrique, que parece perder alguma largura. Surgem algumas construções novas, que estavam previstas no desenho de Carrilho da Graça. “Um equipamento cultural na extremidade da doca, junto à Estação Fluvial Sul e Sueste, funciona como espaço de apoio a eventos náuticos ou outros, contendo ainda um espaço de restauração associado a uma esplanada. Ao longo da doca dispõem-se um conjunto de pavilhões, de carácter mais efémero, que se destinam a albergar actividades comerciais ou de restauração”, diz a memória descritiva.
Investimento de sete milhões vai converter Estação Sul e Sueste num terminal turístico
A fotomontagem revela igualmente que a linha de eléctrico, que vai permitir a ligação do Cais do Sodré a Santa Apolónia e que agora acaba abruptamente na Rua Cais de Santarém, vai entrar na Infante Dom Henrique já quase na extremidade da doca. E que essa mesma Rua Cais de Santarém vai ter passeios mais largos, desaparecendo os lugares de estacionamento quase por completo.
O protocolo entre as três entidades vai ser assinado ao mais alto nível, uma vez que vão estar presentes na cerimónia a ministra do Mar, o presidente da câmara, o secretário de Estado da Defesa, a presidente da Administração do Porto de Lisboa e o chefe de Estado Maior da Armada. Uma pompa que faz lembrar a assinatura do protocolo para a reabilitação da Estação Sul e Sueste, em Setembro de 2016, na qual marcaram presença o ministro das Finanças e o das Infra-Estruturas. Dizia-se então que essas obras deveriam estar concluídas no fim de 2017, mas a gare fluvial continua à espera delas.
Interview with Poland's Prime Minister
'Europe Has Run Out of Gas'
In an interview, new Polish Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki discusses his country's reputation problems, EU proceedings against Warsaw, Poland's controversial refugee policy and the heated debate over history.
Polish Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki
Piotr Malecki / DER SPIEGEL
February 20, 2018 11:15 AM Print
DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Prime Minister, since your party, Law and Justice (PiS), has been in power in Warsaw, Poland has suffered from a bad image. It used to be the model pupil among the new European Union member states, but now it is considered un-democratic, nationalistic and quick-tempered. What happened?
Morawiecki: Those are opinions and not facts. Poland is a democratic nation-state like all the other countries of Europe. And we are pragmatic. We have a problem with a part of the European political elite and with journalists, but not with the normal people. For example, 97 percent of all foreign investors would come to us again. You are right, though, that we need to make a greater effort to explain our policies. We are facing major changes in Poland. Now, we would like to see the majority of our population benefit from our economic growth. Just because foreign observers used to praise Poland does not mean that the policies of the time were also good for the majority of the population.
DER SPIEGEL: But Poland isn't being criticized for its social policies or its administrative reforms. It is being criticized because your judicial reform, in the EU's view, violates the principle of the rule of law. That's why your country is facing EU proceedings that could end with the loss of voting rights in Brussels.
Morawiecki: We consider this allegation to be false. According to polls, three-quarters of Poles consider the judiciary to be "bad" or "very bad." We are now improving our communication and have revived the dialogue with the European Commission. We have already achieved improvements and Brussels is now acting more as a partner and less as a schoolmaster. We will also attempt to address the concerns point by point and clarify our position.
DER SPIEGEL: The fact that your country has become the first in the history of the European Union to be subjected to such proceedings is not just due to communications shortcomings. The accusation is that your party wants to control the staffing of the courts.
Morawiecki: We, meaning Poland and the Commission, are absolutely united about the fact that the condition of the Polish justice system is a millstone around our neck. Our courts are completely ineffective, they take a lot of time to reach decisions and they are not transparent. Poland spends three times more on its judges than the average among EU countries. We have 10,000 judges compared to 7,000 in France, a much bigger country. Does Poland want to control the staffing of the courts? No, Poland wants to once again place its judiciary under democratic controls. In Germany, for example, the justices of the highest courts are appointed by a committee for the election of judges. Half of that body is comprised of ministers from the states and the others are members of the Bundestag (the German federal parliament). Furthermore, there was a failure here to discharge judges who were contaminated by the communist era. In former East Germany, after being screened by the Gauck Agency (the Stasi records agency), only 58 percent of the judges and prosecutors could keep their jobs. In Poland, it was 100 percent.
DER SPIEGEL: That was at least 25 years ago. How many of them are even still in office?
Morawiecki: As a young activist with the Solidarity union, I experienced repression myself. And a few of these judges who convicted my comrades-in-arms are still sitting in the highest court. Our reforms make the judicial apparatus more transparent, effective and independent. We now have random assignment of cases to courts in order to minimize suspicions of partiality. We will explain that, and it will hopefully provide the basis for working out a compromise.
DER SPIEGEL: Poland appears in many respects to be removing itself from the core of Europe. The term a "Europe of Nations" is used in your party. What role does Poland want to take within the EU?
Morawiecki: The majority of European societies want a Europe of Nations and not a federation of the United States of Europe. The trans-Atlantic alliance and North America's alliance with Europe are essential for peace in the world. They guarantee democracy, freedom and prosperity. I would like to see Poland make its contribution so that Europe and the United States continue working together toward these goals. As part of that, we want to be a good, predictable partner here at the eastern flank of the EU, not far from Russia.
DER SPIEGEL: So there is no chance that Poland could leave the EU?
Morawiecki: Correct, it is as unlikely as Germany or France leaving. Like the overwhelming majority of Poles, I am very pro-European. We are pushing, for example, for the development of a joint defense program. We also support working together to close tax loopholes. At the same time, we also believe that Brussels should not create policies that disregard the societal moods in the individual countries. Podemos in Spain, the success of the AfD (Alternative for Germany), Le Pen and Mélenchon in France, Five Star in Italy -- there is lava flowing beneath us, there are massive tensions...
DER SPIEGEL: Do you not count PiS among this group of protest parties?
Morawiecki: I count PiS as being among the parties that want to correct the unjust consequences of the transformation of 1989. We are handing the opportunity for development back to millions of Poles who were excluded by the economic boom. As such, we are channeling discontent. People in Europe should acknowledge that.
DER SPIEGEL: Polls show that the overwhelming majority of Poles are still in favor of the European Union, but also that their great euphoria for the EU has evaporated. What caused that?
Morawiecki: I would say that Europe has run out of gas in terms of ideals. During the post-World War II era, this fuel was the prospect of growth and lower unemployment. Later, it was the integration of the formerly communist countries. People today consider that to be self-evident. Peace, the market economy -- that worked for decades, but it is no longer enough. European societies are making that loud and clear. They want fairness and less inequality. I am an idealist. We have to work on new ideas for Europe. For me, that would be things like the question of how we are going to deal with robotization, with accelerated capitalism, with the transformation of our working world through automation and artificial intelligence, and with inequality, which has grown exponentially? Those are the questions of the future, I agree with Thomas Piketty on this ...
DER SPIEGEL: ... the French economist and critic of capitalism.
Morawiecki: We have to consider whether there are European answers to these questions. We need a new European partnership agreement.
DER SPIEGEL: You speak of inequality. Why is it such a massive problem for a country with 38 million people and a flourishing economy to take in a few thousand refugees from Syria? Your government has doggedly refused to do so.
Morawiecki: Poland is taking in refugees from the countries to the east of us, from Ukraine.
DER SPIEGEL: Can you really make that comparison? Ukrainians have been coming to Poland for years -- they benefit Poland as cheap laborers and are well-integrated.
Morawiecki: The influx has increased five-fold since the war in Ukraine and, particularly from the Donbass region, more and more are coming. They no longer have a roof over their heads and they have often lost family members. This kind of refugee is not even recognized in the West. After our interview, incidentally, I will fly to Lebanon, where I will visit a refugee camp and take considerable financial support along with me. There, in the Syrian border region, Poland is providing for 20,000 refugees. Studies have shown that you can do a better job of helping people there than here by building hospitals and schools. Of all the countries participating in the Economic Resilience Initiative, Poland has given the most money: 50 million euros. It is a project by the European Investment Bank to provide local economic support in the region. I give you my word that we want to do even more. But you also have to keep in mind that forcing intake quotas on a sovereign nation creates societal tensions.
DER SPIEGEL: What do you mean by forcing? The liberal government that preceded yours agreed to the quota in Brussels in 2015.
Morawiecki: You are right about that. But such important decisions that affect sovereignty, the defense of borders and protection from terrorism should not simply be pushed through via a majority votes in the European Council (the powerful EU body that represents the member state governments) and against the reservations in those societies. If a country is incapable of defending its borders, it should not turn it into everybody's problem.
DER SPIEGEL: By that, you mean Germany?
Morawiecki: Not only. I also want to enter a dialogue on this issue. We want to provide our contribution to refugee policies, and the problem can become significant again at any time. If, for example, Moscow further escalates the conflict in Ukraine. If a second Baltic Sea pipeline is built, as Germany desires, Russia will be able to deliver gas to the West without having to rely on any pipes that go through Ukraine. The country would then be entirely defenseless, and Russia could advance in the east even more aggressively. It could not be ruled out that there would suddenly be millions of refugees at the EU's eastern flank.
DER SPIEGEL: Can you understand that many Germans consider the Polish position to show a lack of solidarity? On the one hand, you have a Poland that profits from money sent by Brussels. On the other hand, it doesn't want to help in an emergency.
Morawiecki: At best, I can halfway understand it. Even German politicians, like (Foreign Minister) Sigmar Gabriel, for example, admit that the German economy also benefits from the EU structural aid provided to the new member states. Some 80 percent of the money flows to German companies because they are implementing EU-sponsored construction projects here. In Poland, we know very precisely what solidarity means. It is an important goal, but another is domestic security and policies that are independent and sovereign.
DER SPIEGEL: Is Germany still the most important partner in Europe for your government?
Morawiecki: Yes. There are tensions every now and then -- when, for example, a radical article is published here or there. But for me the glass is half full rather than half empty. I have long worked in the business sector and our economic ties are closer than ever. Poland, the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary have together become the most important export market for Germany, more important even than France. I want to support this development.
DER SPIEGEL: Poland disclaimed reparations payments from Germany in 1953 for the crimes committed during World War II. Now leading politicians in your party want to demand damages retroactively. What is your position?
Morawiecki: The Sejm (the Polish parliament) just agreed to do another precise calculation of the material damages and the loss of human life. So far, the Poles have received 1 percent of the compensation that citizens in the Western countries or Israel have received. Yet our losses as a share of the total population were the highest in the world.
DER SPIEGEL: Your government introduced a law that makes it a crime to use the term "Polish concentration camp" or statements that attribute any complicity by the Polish nation or government in the Nazi crimes. Is the penal code really the right way to fight historical misrepresentation and cluelessness?
Morawiecki: Yes. Germany and Israel also do this. You can be punished there for denying the Holocaust or incitement. Last year alone, Polish embassies intervened 250 times around the world because someone used the formulation "Polish death camp." Our Supreme Court is currently giving the law another review to determine if it contains any misleading wording.
DER SPIEGEL: But the plan has been strongly criticized by the Israeli side.
Morawiecki: We are explaining our position and I believe that the Israeli side is growing more understanding toward us. We are noticing that in diplomatic discussions and we are seeing increasingly friendly editorials in the press. Yes, we did have thousands of "Szmalcownicy," Poles who murdered Jews or betrayed them to the Nazis. At the same time, however, even in occupied Warsaw, hell on earth, 90,000 Catholic Poles helped their Jewish neighbors. The Polish underground state and the London exile government never collaborated with the Nazis. We support precise research into our history.
DER SPIEGEL: Most Germans understand why it is wrong to use the term "Polish concentration camp." Isn't your reaction a bit over the top? The term is usually used out of sloppiness and not because Germans want to relativize any guilt. Do you believe, like many of your compatriots, that the Germans don't want to take responsibility for the crimes of the Nazis?
Morawiecki: The recent statements by Chancellor Angela Merkel and Foreign Minister Sigmar Gabriel, who have clearly admitted German guilt, show that there is much understanding for our position in Germany.
DER SPIEGEL: The greatest concern of most Poles is neighboring Russia. Vladimir Putin has clearly demonstrated his expansionist desires in Ukraine. At the same time, U.S. foreign policy vis-à-vis Moscow has become unpredictable. Has life become more dangerous in your region?
Morawiecki: We have to take this threat from the east very seriously. That is why we welcome joint defense efforts and perhaps it will even result in a joint army someday -- within the framework of NATO.
DER SPIEGEL: Do you feel that the European Union is watching Moscow closely enough?
Morawiecki: No, unfortunately I do not believe so. Russia is not only playing an ominous role in Ukraine, but also in Syria. We want to discuss the problem with the Germans, but also, of course, with France, a nuclear power. But let's not deceive ourselves: Although we don't know what policies the White House will choose, we are still under the Americans' umbrella. In that sense, the Germans are getting a free lunch -- they spend little but enjoy full protection. Of course, I do hope that we can come to agreement with the Russians in the future. At the moment, though, it is good to be strong militarily. That makes understanding easier.
DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Prime Minister, we thank you for this interview.