“It is for a famous Italian politician”, tries to explain, in hesitant English, a Milanese policeman to a Japanese tourist, confused by the imposing crowd gathered at the foot of the Duomo. Under the gaze of the Madonnina, the Berlusconian people met, this Wednesday, June 14, for a last tribute to the former Prime Minister, who died on Monday at the age of 86.
A colorful crowd like the Cavaliere’s thousand lives: from the AC Milan supporter who came “to thank the one who carried the club to the roof of Europe”, to the Lombard businessman moved by the disappearance of “a great business leader who transformed Milan” to the retiree, Forza Italia badge proudly pinned to the jacket, who assures him: “Silvio Berlusconi is not dead, his legacy is alive and well with us!” »
A few steps from the esplanade, the Mondadori bookstore has kept its doors closed to mark the mourning. This morning, in the main storefront, the bestsellers of the moment have been discarded to make way for a smiling portrait of the “boss” in front of whom a small hand is struggling to make the window shine.
Despite a place in Milan conquered by emotion, many Italians are struggling to digest the national mourning decreed by the current head of government Giorgia Meloni in memory of the octogenarian. “An inappropriate political choice”, denounces a deputy of the 5-star Movement, flabbergasted to “see a barracks of the Finance Guard with the flag at half mast to pay tribute to a man convicted of tax evasion”.
“We will move forward united,” assures MP Alessandro Cattaneo, swearing loyalty to Berlusconi’s ideas: Europeanism, economic liberalism and defense of Christian values. Vittorio Sgarbi, an old friend of the Cavaliere, calls for change in view of the 2024 Europeans: to create a “new force, a new symbol to hold the centrists together, a kind of Italian macronism”.
But at 3 p.m. sharp, enough political calculations. Under a summer sun, the hearse makes its entrance at the foot of the Duomo, welcomed by the chorus of the tifosis of AC Milan, banners in hand, giving the place a little taste of San Siro, a night of derby. “Who doesn’t jump is a communist”, intone the supporters of the Curva Sud, in a somewhat provocative tribute.
Another round of applause when the coffin, escorted by carabinieri in ceremonial dress, reviews the Italian troops before rushing into the Milanese cathedral. There await him the five children of the Cavaliere and almost all that the Peninsula has of political figures – friends as enemies – and media. “Italy that counts”, blows a journalist.
Alongside President Mattarella and Giorgia Meloni appear the closed faces of an imposing cohort of former tenants of Palazzo Chigi, seat of the Presidency of the Council: Mario Draghi, Matteo Renzi, Mario Monti and the current European Commissioner Paolo Gentiloni.
The prelate thus evokes the memory of Silvio Berlusconi who, like every businessman, sometimes embarks “on reckless undertakings” and “looks at the numbers and perhaps forgets the criteria”. Of the politician, Delpini, always a diplomat, recalls “those who applaud him and those who hate him”. What about Silvio, he wonders, finally? “He was a man. »