A drone for Salvini

Anthony Licari

The last time I wrote to you, I started my letter in English and even used a foreign name to address you. (I heard that you didn’t like me calling you ‘Salvu’ and you uttered a few coarse words.

But less coarse than those delivered to you by Emmanuel Macron of France.) Now, this is not a problem anymore as, since then, I’ve had a crash course in Italian and I am glad to announce that I have learned to call you Caro Matteo. Now isn’t that nice?

Let us now come to the crux of the matter. This simply cannot go on anymore. First of all, when Malta brokered an agreement between several EU countries for a solution of the pleasure craft loitering in the Mediterranean, there was an agreement that the people on this vessel would be taken to Malta before being shared among the countries which had a sense of serious responsibility to contribute to the solution of the problem. Indeed, even non-EU Norway showed more solidarity than many EU brothers and sisters! Such camaraderie! Now, come on Matt, did you have to jump for joy and clap your hands as if you had made a great personal victory? There is nothing personally joyful about an international political agreement, and one cannot express euphoria as if one is watching a football game at the stadium. (I will not mention the World Cup, as I don’t think you’ll like that either.)

Also, every time I find a subject for an article, you make a new gaffe and I have to change my subject, as I cannot simply ignore your profound sayings. You have indeed, all over again, said that Malta is closer to Africa than Lampedusa. Now, as I and many others have already explained to you, this geographical gaffe is incredible. I think that in Italy, you call it a ‘fesseria’, but I do not wish to use this word as it seems to have a vulgar anatomical origin. (You see, Matteo, how much progress I have made during my crash course in polite Italian!)

It also seems that one of your friends said something about your supposed free delivery of electricity to Malta when we all know that we do pay for it. It’s just another ‘fess…’ – I mean gaffe – which common sense and reason decided that it should not be used again, as it only reflects badly on the naïveté of the speaker, especially if he is an Italian politician who has studied at the University of Malta.

Now, to come back to you, Dear Matteo, you have obsessively again said that Malta is closer to Africa than Lampedusa. The last time I looked at the map of the Mediterranean, I saw that it was the other way round. I turned the map upside down, and Lampedusa was still closer to Africa than Malta. I mean, come on Matt, are you doing on purpose to enervate me and make me say an Italian word which you will not like? And, between brothers who never dropped bombs on each other, this should not be done.

A Maltese Minister has also sent you a detailed map of the Mediterranean, with lines and measurements, clearly indicating the number of kilometres, metres, centimetres and millimetres between the two islands and Africa. If you read Maltese newspapers – especially my articles – you should stop placing your head in the sand like an ostrich. Islands don’t float around in the Mediterranean like NGO pleasure craft registered in the Nederlands. Once two island are in a certain position, they remain there for millions of years and no new ‘fess...’, I mean gaffe, will make them move – not even by a millimetre. (I stand to be corrected by geographers and geologist, as probably islands do move a few millimetres every hundred million years – but not as much as you think, Caro Matteo, for heaven’s sake!)

As the Maltese authorities could not take your head out of the sand from a distance, they decided to come over and see you over there, in Italy, armed with maps, tape measures, globes, Scotch tape, compasses and so on. Just to show you what you are taking very long to understand. However, just before departure, this Maltese geographical delegation – headed by a couple of children from Maltese kindergartens (where 40,000 immigrant Italians from some of your depressed areas send their kids too, while working in Malta.) – decided, at the last minute, not to come and meet you, as you would perhaps have thought that their dgħajsa was an NGO pleasure craft registered in Holland. And, in any case, your vice squad would have been suspicious of an innocent boat registered as a pleasure craft. In Italy, like in Malta, one doesn’t take kindly to boats used for pleasure.

But, Dear Matteo, not to worry. We still have a solution. We are sending you a present with one of the 40,000 Italian immigrants in Malta who is coming for a holiday to Italy to spend his Maltese salary.

We are sending you a drone, which you may fly all over the Mediterranean, and finally discover the exact position of your Lampedusa. We are hoping that, after this, you will no long say any ‘fess….’, I mean gaffes, as a drone can indicate very precisely the kilometres, meters, centimetres and millimetres there are from Lampedusa and Malta to Africa.

Caro Matteo, I believe that we have now greatly improved our legendary friendship. You may, of course, keep the drone, so you may spy on the NGO pleasure crafts registered in Amsterdam.