Io non mi arrendo

When I first heard Roberto Mancini’s story, I instinctively felt anger and emotion at the same time — two opposing forces that, within this human journey, continuously fuel one another. Anger, because Mancini’s story is marked by injustice, incompetence, silence and deliberate misjudgment. It is impossible not to feel indignant at the lack of dedication and sense of justice shown by certain state institutions that should have supported Roberto from the very beginning, collaborating in an investigation that could — even then — have exposed a reckless, criminal and irresponsible plan. Instead, he was left alone. It is equally impossible not to feel anger toward those who poison the very land on which their own children are meant to grow, all in pursuit of power and profit. Today, we are all aware of the tragedy of the so-called “Land of Fires” and of the many victims who lost their lives to cancer as a result of contaminated soil and groundwater. And one cannot help but wonder: had Roberto’s work been supported from the outset, as it deserved to be and as it should have been, perhaps we might have avoided a disaster. Perhaps we would be living in a better, cleaner, more civil country. The emotion, however, comes from thinking about Roberto himself — a man with an extraordinary civic conscience and an unwavering devotion to others. A man who turned his profession into a mission. Not a hero, but a servant of the State. For the television drama Io non mi arrendo, dedicated to Mancini, I approached the role as I always do: I asked myself whether there was a meaningful reason to tell this story and what message I would ultimately leave to my children. Each time I try to understand the man I am about to embody. On this occasion, I did not have the chance to meet Roberto personally, but I sought him in the memories of those who knew him well. I imagined his gaze, his strength, his determination — and to do so, it was essential to meet his family. Monika, his wife, was a generous and attentive presence, deeply respectful of my work. She watched me with affection and placed her full trust in me, offering invaluable advice and details that helped me portray her husband. Meeting Roberto’s daughter — gentle and determined, much like her father — was equally significant. I am certain she will carry forward what he began. One day, Roberto’s mother visited me on set — a strong and warm woman who still carries an immense burden in her heart, aware that she lost a son simply because he fulfilled his duty with integrity. Because this is the truth: he uncovered something that was not meant to be revealed, something that troubled too many powerful interests. He was left alone for that reason. For me, it was an honor to give voice to a remarkable man and to bring to light a story that had been buried — a story that might have shed light on the greatest environmental disaster our country has faced. These pages seek to do the same. They recount the life of the so-called “communist policeman” while also exposing previously untold and unsettling aspects of the Land of Fires: the complicity between politics and organized crime, the silence of institutions. The book also includes a moving letter written by Mancini himself — the beginning of a manuscript he had started shortly before his passing, and which now becomes the starting point of this important work by the authors.