Posts Tagged ‘istanbul’

Dalla Turchia al Brasile è una protesta globale per un mondo migliore

In Da altri media on 21/06/2013 at 22:58

Ormai si tratta di una protesta globale, le piazze di ormai tutti i continenti ardono della rabbia di una nuova generazione che è stanca di sentirsi dire cosa devono fare, è stanca di piegare la testa, è stanca che la propria voce non sia mai ascoltata mentre solo gli interessi dell’oligarchia vengono presi in considerazione. E’ vero a Gezi Park dove i cittadini vogliono che non sia solo Erdogan a decidere in favore di una folle speculazione edilizia, è vero a San Paolo dove non si accetta che per pagare gli stadi dei calciatori miliardari si alzino i biglietti degli autobus – o si brucino le risorse che sarebbero meglio servite per costruire ospedali. E’ vero a Sofia, dove la gente non ne può più di una classe politica corrotta, come lo era per gli Indignados spagnoli e per tutti i movimenti di Occupy. L’ideologia mercatista che ha soppiantato nei fatti, se non ancora nelle modalità, la democrazia, è sul banco degli imputati.


di Paul Mason

da BBC News

The language and the time zone changes but, from Turkey and Bulgaria to Brazil, the symbolism of protest is increasingly the same.

The Guy Fawkes masks, the erection of tent camps, the gas masks and helmets improvised in response to the use of tear gas as a means of collective punishment. The handwritten signs – scrawled in defiance of the state’s power and the uniformity of the old, collective protests of yesteryear.

And the youthfulness of the core protesters.

In Gezi Park, Istanbul, before it was cleared by police, I saw school-age teenagers turn up regularly, each afternoon in small groups, colonise what was left of the lawn and start their homework.

The pictures coming out of Sao Paulo tell a similar story.

Bypassing the state

In both cities, people born in a post-ideological era are using what symbols they can to tell a story of being modern, urban and discontented: the national flag and the shirt of the local football team are memes common to both Istanbul and Sao Paulo.

But what is driving the discontent?

When I covered the unrest in Britain and southern Europe in 2011, the answer was clear. A whole generation of young people has seen economic promises cancelled: they will work probably until their late sixties, come out of university with lifetime-crippling debts.

And, as American students famously complained in 2009, the jobs they get when they leave university are often the same jobs they did, part-time, when they were at university. I’ve met qualified civil engineers in Greece whose job was waiting table; the fact that I met them on a riot tells you all you need to know.

With the Arab Spring, it seemed different – from the outside: these were fast-growing economies – in Libya’s case spectacularly fast. But here you hit something that makes this wave of unrest unique: this is the first generation whose lives, and psychology, have been shaped by ready access to information technology and social media.

We know what this does: it makes state propaganda, censorship and a government-aligned mainstream media very easy to bypass. Egyptian state TV totally lost credibility during the first days of the uprisings against President Hosni Mubarak. This month, when Turkish TV stations tried to pull the same kind of non-reporting of unrest, they were bombarded with complaints.

“But,” one politics professor told me, “most of the complaints were from people aged over 35. The youth don’t watch TV, and in any case they have never believed what’s on the news.”

Social media makes it possible to organise protests fast, to react to repression fast, and to wage a quite successful propaganda war that makes the mainstream media and the spin machines of governments look foolish.

At the same time, it encourages a relatively “horizontal” structure to the protests themselves. Taksim Square in Istanbul was rare for having a 60-strong organising group; the protests in Sao Paulo have followed the more general pattern of several organising groups and an amorphous network of people who simply choose themselves where to turn up, what to write on their banners, and what to do.

As I arrived in Istanbul, some of my contacts in financial markets were mystified: why are they protesting when it is one of the fastest growing places on earth?

Get down to street level and the answer was clear. In the first place, many of the young educated people I spoke to complained that “the wealth is going to the corrupt elite”; many pointed out that despite being doctors, civil engineers, dotcom types etc, they could not afford a place to live.

‘Perfectly ordinary people’

But then there was the bigger grievance: they felt the religious conservative government of the AK Party was impinging on their freedom. One Turkish fashion writer – no natural revolutionary – complained of “a growing, insidious hostility to the modern”.

And they saw the heavy police action against the original tent camp in Gezi Park – an environmental protest – as a symbol of this unfreedom.

In Sao Paulo, the grievances are more clearly social: “Fewer stadiums, more hospitals”, reads one banner. The rising price of transport, combined with the government’s determination to prioritise infrastructure and sports stadia, are what this has come to be about.

But again, last week, it was an allegedly disproportionate police action – the arrest of a journalist for carrying vinegar (to dull the sting of tear gas), the shooting of four journalists with rubber bullets – which led to escalation.

In each case, the effects of police action are magnified by the ability of protesters to send images of brutality around the world immediately. And as a veteran of reporting more than 30 years’ worth of “non-lethal” law enforcement, my impression is that the use of CS, baton rounds, water cannon is pushing police procedures all over the world towards “near lethal” levels that are increasingly unacceptable to protesters who go on the streets with no violent intent.

Though smaller by comparison, the Bulgarian protests that on Wednesday removed a controversial head of state security speak to the issues that unite those taking to the streets in many countries: it is not about poverty, say protesters, it is about corruption, the sham nature of democracy, clique politics and an elite prepared to grab the lion’s share of the wealth generated by economic development.

In short, just as in 1989, when we found that people in East Europe preferred individual freedom to communism, today capitalism is becoming identified with the rule of unaccountable elites, lack of effective democratic accountability, and repressive policing.

And what the events of the last three years have shown is that perfectly ordinary people, with no ideological axe to grind, have found the means to resist it.


Piazza Taksim tra Occupy e la Primavera Araba

In Editoriali on 04/06/2013 at 16:15

di Nicola Melloni

da Liberazione

Le proteste a Istanbul dominano ormai tutte le prime pagine dei giornali italiani ed esteri. Sono l’ennesimo episodio di manifestazioni e rivolte che ormai divampano in tutta Europa e non solo. Dopo gli Indignados alla Puerta del Sol, Occupy Wall Street a Zuccotti Park, le dimostrazioni di Syntagma e gli scontri di piazza Tahrir, siamo ora alla rivolta di piazza Taskim. Ne parliamo con Evrim Gormus, dottoranda alla Washington University di Seattle e docente di Economia Politica Internazionale all’Università Bilgi di Istanbul.

Iniziamo da quello che sta succedendo in piazza Taksim. Perché proprio ora? Sappiamo che la protesta nasce dalla difesa di uno spazio verde, ma ci sono altre ragioni che hanno portato alle dimostrazioni di questi giorni? E perché la polizia ha reagito così duramente?

Le dimostrazioni sono iniziate in maniera spontanea, inizialmente su piccola scala, contro la demolizione del parco di Gezi, l’unica area verde di piazza Taksim. Piazza Taksim ha un significato particolare nella storia turca, essendo stata teatro nel passato di molte manifestazione politiche. La distruzione del parco è parte di un progetto molto controverso che prevede che la parte pedonale della piazza sia circondata da hotel, residence e aree commerciali, oltre la ricostruzione di una caserma dell’esercito ottomano demolita nel 1940.
Le controversie nascono dal fatto che il cosiddetto “progetto Taksim” è assai poco trasparente, senza nessuna consultazione della cittadinanza. Le ragioni della protesta sono dunque quelle di una popolazione che vuole essere consultata e ascoltata perché si sente esclusa dalla politica.
Per altro, quello che ha trasformato le piccole dimostrazioni iniziali in una vera e propria rivolta politica è stato l’uso eccessivo della forza da parte della polizia. Una cosa che non sorprende, ma che anzi riflette lo stile politico dell’Akp (il Partito della Libertà e della Giustizia di Erdogan) che usa il mandato elettorale per reprimere tutti i movimenti di opposizione. I manifestanti sono stati subito tacciati di essere terroristi e sabotatori ma così facendo le manifestazione di Taksim sono diventati un collante per tutti quelli che si oppongono alla politica muscolare di Erdogan.

In Italia le idee e le immagini che abbiamo sulla Turchia sono tutt’altro che chiare. L’economia turca cresce e prospera mentre l’Occidente è in crisi. Allo stesso tempo però il sistema politico ci appare confuso, alcuni considerano Erdogan un democratico, altri un islamista. Quale è la tua prospettiva sulla modernizzazione della società turca e sulle sue ricadute sociali?

L’Akp è andato al potere nel 2002 ed alle ultime elezioni ha conquistato il 49.5% dei voti, con una agenda politica basata su democratizzazione e apertura verso l’Europa e con slogan che rimandano all’Islam moderato e ai democratici islamici. La crescita economica ha senza dubbio contribuito a rinsaldare la legittimità del governo di Erdogan e alla nascita del cosiddetto modello turco nel Medio Oriente. L’Akp ha il merito storico di aver ricondotto i militari sotto il controllo civile ma quello che è stato poco compreso in Occidente è che il potere civile è una condizione necessaria ma non sufficiente per la democratizzazione del paese. Erdogan ha represso ogni forma di opposizione, amputando in questa maniera le riforme politiche.
Economicamente, l’Akp, che è andato al potere a seguito della crisi economica del 2001, ha semplicemente adottato un programma neo-liberal di disciplina fiscale. Con un discreto successo in termini di crescita economica – che in Turchia come altrove è diventata una ossessione – ma tralasciando completamente la dimensione sociale della crescita.
In questo senso, la protesta di Gezi è anche una rivolta contro il modello neoliberale che porta alla trasformazione degli spazi urbani, a discapito del verde e degli spazi sociali. E dunque le proteste di questi giorni hanno senza dubbio qualche punto di contatto con i movimenti di Occupy in Occidente, perché sono anche e soprattutto una lotta contro il modello economico dominante.

Dunque vedi una parziale continuità con i movimenti europei. Pensi ci sia anche qualche punto di contatto con la Primavera Araba di cui in Occidente abbiamo capito ben poco e di cui tu invece sei esperta, avendola vissuta in prima persona a piazza Tahrir?

Io non penso sia possibile parlare di Primavera Turca in continuità con la Primavera Araba. Non si può negare che Erdogan goda di una forte legittimazione popolare e che la Turchia, nonostante le varie difficoltà, sia stata una democrazia, seppure sui generis, dal 1950. Le rivolte arabe sono avvenute in contesto diversissimo, contro dittatori sanguinari e sono sfociate in massacri di massa. Nessuno, al momento, chiede un cambiamento di regime in Turchia, la protesta è contro Erdogan e il suo stile politico muscolare e che esclude tutte le minoranze.
Ci sono però alcune somiglianze con piazza Tahrir che non vanno sottovalutate e che valgono per i processi di legittimazione di tutti i potenti, in Turchia come nei paesi arabi ma anche nel resto del mondo. Possiamo chiamarlo il potere dei cittadini ordinari. In Egitto, la più grande organizzazione dell’opposizione, i Fratelli Islamici, non erano inizialmente presenti in piazza e hanno solo beneficiato del processo messo in moto da altri – e per questo sono accusati di aver rubato la Rivoluzione. Anche in Turchia i dimostranti si sono organizzati in maniera autonoma, attraverso i propri canali e l’utilizzo dei social media come canali di comunicazione politica, mentre i partiti tradizionali sono assenti.

Quindi la sinistra turca non è protagonista delle manifestazioni di questi giorni?

La sinistra, in Turchia come altrove, è purtroppo in difficoltà. Il principale partito di opposizione, il Chp (il Partito Popolare Repubblicano) si definisce socialdemocratico, salvo poi spesso rifarsi ad una retorica nazionalista. La sinistra non è rappresentata nella politica turca, soprattutto a causa di una legge elettorale che ha una soglia di sbarramento del 10% che si accompagna ad annosi problemi organizzativi e politici. La rivolta di Gezi non rappresenta nessun partito politico, ma ha sicuramente un impatto positivo sulla società turca che comincia a chiedere più trasparenza e più partecipazione. Le ricadute sul sistema politico le cominciamo già a vedere in questi giorni, con migliaia di manifestanti sotto i palazzi della Tv che continua a trasmettere documentari sui delfini, programmi di cucina e soap opera mentre nelle nostre piazze vengono usati i gas lacrimogeni per fermare i manifestanti. Finalmente il popolo ha cominciato a gridare “Il Re è nudo”.


In Internazionale on 04/06/2013 at 16:12


su questo argomento leggi anche

Cosa succede in Turchia

La primavera turca parla a tutta Europa

A Istanbul i giovani turchi dicono NO

Cosa succede in Turchia

In Da altri media on 04/06/2013 at 16:09

Da Istanbul ad Ankara la Turchia si sta rivoltando e non è certo solo per un parco, per quanto simbolico ed importante. In realtà stanno venendo a galla le contraddizioni di un modello economico di successo, ma solo per alcuni, unito alla democrazia autoritaria di Erdogan. Un modello economico e sociale che fa proseliti, dalla Cina alla Russia fino all’Europa, che cerca di coniguare un sistema politico stabile (più o meno democratico, è quasi irrilevante) al rampantismo economico che antepone le ragioni del business a quelle della volontà popolare e dell’uguaglianza.

Qui di sotto proponiamo qualche articolo per capire meglio la situazione. Paul Mason, veterano di mille piazze, da Occupy a Syntagma, descrive le contraddizioni e le speranze dei manifestanti, non ancora un movimento compatto, ma sicuramente molto numerosi. Dani Rodrik, invece, ci racconta dei problemi della Turchia, del ricorso sistematico alla violenza come rimedio alla debolezza del governo, della disorganizzazione politica che rende le alternative più difficili.


di Paul Mason

da BBC News

To any student of social history the sight of an urban middle class using its fingers to dig up cobblestones, form a human chain and pile them 3ft (1m) high to make a barricade screams the words “Paris Commune”.

That is what I saw in the streets around Besiktas stadium last night and the comparisons are ominous.

This was the third big night of fighting in Istanbul.

The protesters methodically erected barricades to seal off Taksim Square, which is on a hill. By now some of these barricades are six or seven feet high and movable only by bulldozer.

In the park, earlier, there were three or four meetings going on, with the left-wing nationalist Youth Union of Turkey the biggest, and a more impromptu samba-band thing for the more anti-globalist protesters.

It was good-natured, and the two main social types were educated young women, dressed I would say 90% in Western style, and young men with football scarves and shirts.

They made a massive thing out of the fact that they were standing shoulder to shoulder, on a big plinth, the rival teams of Istanbul who hate each other’s guts.

Then, around 21:00 (18:00 GMT), the crowd streamed down the hill towards Besiktas and the clash with the police started. I was close to this, and have to say it was standard if very heavy riot policing: baton rounds, CS cartridges in abundance, and finally water cannon.

Only about 10% of the people are fighting, and this is in fact testimony to the social depth of the movement.

There were a large majority of people you would expect to find on an engineering course at college, or sitting over a laptop in Starbucks, the young, global, secular urban middle class.

Most of them had not come to fight, but fighting is what they have been drawn into. The men and women in masks are doctors, teachers, students, as well as the typical urban poor youth ducking and diving, who remain a minority.

Around 02:00 I went out again. By now the barricade right outside my hotel was under attack – though the protesters beat the police back this time.

People started to tell their stories.

The main meme – as with the flags – is “we are sons of Ataturk”. That is, we are a secular republic and we are worried about the autocratic use of power by Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan, combined with a creeping Islamisation.

“We don’t want to become Iran,” one man said.

Protesters dug up cobblestones and piled them high to create barricades

The secondary meme tends to contradict this.

“We’re all here,” one masked woman told me. “Communists, anarchists, democrats. It’s not an Ataturkist movement.”

Reactions to my reports on Twitter tend to echo this division too.

So what has caused it? Everybody is clear that the park – intended to be bulldozed to make a shopping mall shaped like an Ottoman Empire military barracks – is not the issue.

“The issue is freedom,” one woman told me.

I have been to the Taksim emergency hospital tonight. I met a volunteer doctor who ended up a patient after being shot at close range with a CS gas canister. Another man came out covered with lacerations and bruising.

The patients alleged deliberate police brutality, the connivance between police and what sounds like an unofficial militia from the ruling Justice and Development (AK) party, police using knives at close quarters to stab people in the legs, and the persistent use of orange smoke canisters that cause severe distress.

I did not see any attacks of this nature, but there were enough claims for the allegations to be taken seriously and investigated.

When I have expressed surprise at the way this escalated into an all-or-nothing confrontation, the rioters too say they are surprised. There is a pent-up anger – and when I point to the impressive growth, and fiscal solvency of Turkey, they point to the fact they cannot afford a flat, and that “the money ends up in the pockets of those in power”.

By pulling back from Taksim, for the past 48 hours now, the Turkish police have lessened the tension inside it.

‘It’s a revolution’

Walking around at 04:00, among little groups squatting around fires and others huddled under blankets in doorways or on the grass of the park, there is again the echo of that event in Paris. Then, too, the state pulled out, leaving the urban middle class and workforce of Paris to run the city for 100 days. But it ended in tragedy and bloodshed.

One woman working as a medical volunteer pulled me aside just now.

“I’m telling everybody to stop fighting,” she said. “This can’t end with massive bloodshed.”

There is a sense among some of the protesters that the scale of injury, the out-of-control nature of the policing at times, and their isolation from the rest of Turkey (Turkish TV is not exactly covering the events in great detail), means they have to back down.

Others though are clear.

“It’s a revolution,” says a man in a mask, face lit by the flames of a burning car. And some people are clearly high on it.

I have covered Syntagma, the Occupy protests and reported from Tahrir Square. This is different to all of them.

First, it is massive. The sheer numbers dwarf any single episode of civil unrest in Greece.

Second, the breadth of social support – within the urban enclave of Istanbul – is bigger than Greece and closer to Egypt.

“Everyone is here – except the AK party,” insists one young woman.

People nod. In Greece, the urban middle class was split. Here the secular middle class are out in force, united across political divisions, to say nothing of football hatreds.

All eyes on the workers

Is this the Turkish Tahrir? Not unless the workers join in. Turkey has a large labour movement, and a big urban poor working population, and Monday is a work day, so we will see. It is certainly already something more than the Turkish version of Occupy.

Could it spill over into the wider Middle East conflict? Most definitely. Because Mr Erdogan has been the lynchpin of Western power in dealing with Syria.

Some read his willingness to ditch his liberal supporters and push for the low-level Islamisation of society (alcohol bans, anti-abortion policy etc) as part of a wider willingness to carve out a role independent of the US in the region.

The opposition know they are weak, they have no leadership and do not want one, and the official strategy is about the park and police brutality, whereas the hopes that blaze behind the eyes of people in masks are about getting rid of Mr Erdogan and making Turkey a secular democracy.

All I know, stumbling through the detritus of a week of urban conflict just now, is that there is a weird lull, a whole city district without police for two days, a quiet order. But it is not clear how long it is going to last.

The Paris Commune of 1871 was long studied by revolutionaries as a test case in how not to act. It was isolated from the rest of France, which voted conservative, it did not know what it wanted, it revelled in its apparent freedom and then was crushed.

As I read tonight the US state department urging “restraint” on Tayyip Erdogan, it is possible that the parallel has occurred to someone there as well.



di Dani Rodrik

da Financial Times

A political class has turned violent to mask its weaknesses, writes Dani Rodrik

What started as a small demonstration against the planned demolition of a rare green space in the middle of Istanbul has escalated into violent nationwide confrontations involving tens of thousands of disaffected Turks of all political stripes. The protests caught by surprise even those observers who, like me, have been vehement critics of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s authoritarian rule.

Police brutality was the immediate cause of the protests. Turks are used to rough behaviour by police but the images circulating in social media this time caused widespread outrage. The preponderance of head wounds strongly suggests that police may have been firing tear gas canisters directly at protesters’ heads. One victim was Ahmet Sik, an intrepid journalist previously jailed on trumped-up charges, whose photo with a bloody head gash was widely circulated.

Mr Erdogan’s reaction stoked the fire. He was at his polarising best, threatening to turn his supporters loose on the streets, calling the protesters “bums” and Twitter “the greatest menace to society”. But whereas social media simmered, the mainstream television channels have showed great reluctance to cover the events, no doubt under government pressure. During some of the worst clashes, CNN’s Turkish affiliate aired a documentary about penguins.

Despite Mr Erdogan’s attempt to tar them as extremists, it seems clear that the bulk of the protesters are asking for basic rights: the right to assemble and protest peacefully, have a say against excessive commercialisation of public spaces, and be treated with respect and without police brutality. This is not a struggle between secularists and Islamists, as much of the western media is wont to portray it. It is abuse of power by Mr Erdogan’s government, straight and simple, that unites the protesters.

But the protests are also an indication of the weakness of Turkey’s opposition parties. Organised along the increasingly irrelevant cleavages that have traditionally divided Turkish society, these parties have been unable to channel and capitalise on the discontent in the streets. Turkey’s liberal intelligentsia has largely discredited itself as well, having continued to provide support to Mr Erdogan long after his illiberal tactics had become plain to see.

Many in the west still give the prime minister credit for the performance of the Turkish economy, for having sent the military back to its barracks, and for the recent peace process with Kurdish insurgents. Yet look closely at each of these, and the lustre vanishes pretty quickly.

On the economic front, the best that can be said is that his government avoided big mistakes. Growth is based on unsustainable levels of external borrowing, and has not been particularly distinguished by emerging-market standards. Public works have been marked by widespread cronyism.

Meanwhile civilian control over the military was achieved through a series of show trials involving massive violations of due process – allegedly with rampant use of planted evidence against accused officers. (My father-in-law is among those imprisoned.) Rather than seek a more peaceful arrangement with the military, Mr Erdogan’s tactics have opened up new wounds that will continue to fester.

Finally, the Kurdish opening has more to do with Mr Erdogan’s efforts to placate the main Kurdish party so he can amend the constitution and ascend to (a more powerful) presidency, than with any genuine desire for reconciliation. As his previous flip-flops on the Kurdish conflict show, he would quickly change tack if short-term political calculations required otherwise.

The main beneficiary of Mr Erdogan’s weakness may well be the Gülen movement, the powerful network led by the Islamic preacher Fethullah Gülen. Mr Erdogan and the Gülenists made common cause until recently to defeat their common enemy, the military and the secularist old guard. But with that task accomplished, they have been increasingly at odds.

Supposedly moderate, the Gülen movement has been linked to some of the worst police and judicial abuses in recent years. So there is considerable irony in Mr Erdogan taking the rap for the protests while Gülenists watch with thinly disguised pleasure on the sidelines.

Sadly, there is no organised political movement that can give voice and representation to the protesters that have made their point so loudly and clearly in recent days. So it will be the competition between Mr Erdogan and the Gülen movement, along with developments on the Kurdish front, which define the future of Turkish politics.

Having missed Turkey’s authoritarian turn (or turned a blind eye to it), Turkey’s friends should know that none of the established players in this drama has strong democratic credentials. The challenge is to avoid facile analyses about a “Turkish spring” and speak clearly against political, judicial, and human rights abuses in Turkey – whatever the source.


La primavera turca parla a tutta l’Europa

In Internazionale on 02/06/2013 at 10:40

Le proteste di Istanbul ci dovrebbero insegnare qualche cosa. In primo luogo, il capitalismo semi-democratico – quello che spesso ci viene indicato come nuovo modello di riferimento, come nell’articolo qui a fianco – non è la soluzione ai problemi dell’Europa o del mondo. L’economia turca non è in crisi, tutt’altro. Mentre l’Europa va a picco, a Istanbul e Ankara si macinano profitti. Eppure la gente, i giovani (la Turchia è uno dei paesi più giovani del mondo) protestano. Primo, sopravvivere, è sempre stato il motto dei regimi autoritari, ma panem et circensem non bastano più, almeno sul Bosforo. I giovani turchi, quelli veri, vogliono poter dire la loro, vogliono una democrazia partecipata e nel vero interesse del popolo, non ad uso dei soliti noti.

Antepongono le ragioni della loro società e della loro generazione al profitto, alla bizzarra e fallimentare idea di progresso spacciata da media, politici ed establishment economico. Fossero in Italia, sarebbero tacciati di regressismo, di far parte della solita retrograda logica del NIMBY – not in my backyard. Sarebbero dei NO TAV perchè invece di un centro commerciale che porta soldi (e profitti, e investimenti, e lavoro, e crescita, almeno così dicono..) vogliono salvare un parco e i suoi alberi, o una vecchia pasticceria simbolo della città. Non diversamente da quei tanti valsusini, piemontesi ed italiani che vogliono salvare la loro montagna, il loro territorio, la loro storia. E che in Italia sono trattati da teppisti, violenti, terroristi e comunque fuori dalla storia. Mentre in Turchia sono il simbolo della democrazia.

Questi giovani turchi raccolgono idealmente la fiamma di Occupy Wall Street e di Zuccotti Park, e degli Indignados spagnoli. Sono il 99%, quelli mai ascoltati, quelli sempre esclusi, quelli le cui ragioni, i cui bisogni vegnono sempre dopo i profitti e gli interessi delle imprese. E che ora hanno cominciato ad alzare la testa.