THE ROAD FROM ROME

The Covid-19 crisis asks us to rethink our health care system in a transnational way

- FRANCESCA MANNOCCHI/Rome

I HAVE BEEN working for years as a journalist in conflict zones, following the destinies of millions of migrants along deadly routes. I have seen corpses of men in the streets of Mosul in Iraq, and bodies of children in the rubble, some with toys next to them. I have met mothers and fathers grieving for their sons killed in front of their eyes. And throughout the conflicts that I have covered—the war against Islamic State, the civil war in Libya, car bombings in Kabul, jihadi attacks in Tunisia, the coup in Cairo, the bombing of Gaza, and many more—I have been in close proximity to death.

Every time I returned home, to my son and family in Italy, I clearly felt two things. That I was a witness to the most extraordinary events in recent history, and that I was lucky to be a citizen of the secure part of the world. Each time I returned, one question would accompany me home: How do I describe the fear of death and the desperation of hunger to those fortunate enough to have never been in a war zone?

That question made me work on my language. I equipped myself with words and phrases that would help Italians understand something that they never have had to experience. Sometimes I succeeded in this, sometimes I failed. War is a strange monster that defies description.

This is the reason why I became agitated when I heard newspapers and channels describing the Covid-19 pandemic as war. I think the use of such metaphors highlights the limits of our language in emergency situations. It does not show us the shortcomings of our health system, and it does not describe the thing that scares us the most: the unpredictability of death.