That said, I did have some challenging moments. Moments when I, too, had to confront ridiculous stereotypes. One instance that stands out was when I announced I was expecting my daughter, Ginevra. For the first time, I genuinely believed people might think I was unfit for an important political role because of my growing belly. In those days, the Center-Right was searching for a mayoral candidate for Rome. At the time, the city was led by a marvelous commissioner, following the distressing scandal surrounding Ignazio Marino – the surgeon-turned-mayor whom the Democratic Party had once fervently supported for the Campidoglio (Capitol), only to abandon him with ruthless cynicism after his expenses scandal. It was early 2016. I had learned just two weeks earlier that Andrea and I were expecting a baby. On the afternoon of January 30, I participated in Family Day at the Circus Maximus in Rome — a massive and deeply moving rally.
In a mix of happiness and euphoria, and feeling embraced by the warmth of the people in attendance, I instinctively shared the news with a reporter who was interviewing me. She looked at me in disbelief, aware that I was giving her a scoop. “Really?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied, “God willing, the next time I’m here, it’ll be as a mom, too.”
A few hours later, the news had spread, and a wave of controversy and vulgar sarcasm exploded, amplified – as always – by the tremendous power of the internet and social media. The insults soon followed, ferocious and relentless. I’m used to being insulted – sometimes to such a degree that I’ve become immune to the nastiness – but not this time. Reading comments that someone hoped I would miscarry was deeply hurtful. Not for me – I’ve never been intimidated by keyboard warriors – but for the defenseless life I was carrying, which had unwittingly triggered such hostility. In that moment, I felt as though I’d failed my very first mission as a mother. I can still vividly recall the comic actresses who regularly appeared on RAI TV, the fixtures on talk shows who couldn’t resist recycling offensive, hackneyed lines. For those self-proclaimed progressive thinkers, those modern, liberal women, I had no right to announce my pregnancy at a pro-family event simply because I was unmarried. I have often heard similarly ridiculous claims: if you’re unmarried, you shouldn’t defend the traditional family. It’s as absurd as saying that if you’re young, you shouldn’t address issues affecting the elderly, or if you’re human, you shouldn’t advocate for animal welfare. That said, there were several moments of solidarity from political leaders expressing their support. I particularly remember Roberta Pinotti, then-Minister of Defense for the Democratic Party (Partito Democractico, PD), who sent me a pair of baby booties, along with a heartfelt message, quoting Dante, that essentially said “don’t bother with them, just look and move on” (non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa).
Still, the controversy did not die down until Guido Bertolaso, former Head of the Civil Protection Department and the Center-Right’s unofficia mayoral candidate for Rome, weighed in on television. He said aloud what many others were thinking but hadn’t dared to express openly: “Meloni just wants to be a mom.” In hindsight, I believe Guido’s intentions were paternalistic, and that his words simply came out wrong — but at the time, it enraged me.
Just a few days after Family Day, fully aware of the risks that a pregnancy at my age could involve, I had announced my decision not to run for the Campidoglio, and removed my name from consideration as a candidate. Yet, Bertolaso’s absurd comment about staying home with a baby bottle and a high chair, coupled with the chaotic handling of primaries and campaigns essentially run from under a temporary gazebo, made me change my mind. Ironically, Bertolaso had become a great motivator. And it wasn’t the last time I chose to do something simply because I was told I couldn’t.
Foreword by PM Narendra Modi
This autobiography, I Am Giorgia, gives readers a candid and rare glimpse into the heart and mind of one of Europe’s and the world’s most dynamic and vibrant leaders. It is also deeply personal. Her journey from a modest neighbourhood in Rome to Italy’s highest political office highlights the power of purpose over narrow partisan politics. Her purpose of defending motherhood, national identity and tradition will resonate with readers in India. Her belief in defending one’s cultural heritage, while engaging with the world on equal terms, mirrors our own values. Her compassion for her people and her ideas to take them on the path of peace and prosperity echo throughout the book. As I write this, I am reminded that India and Italy are bound by much more than treaties or trade. We are bound by shared civilizational instincts like the defence of heritage, the strength of community and the celebration of womanhood as a guiding force. Our nations are joined in spirit by a respect for tradition and an embrace of modernity. This is the bedrock of my own personal friendship with Prime Minister Meloni. As India and Italy deepen their partnership, this book will enrich our understanding of each other and reinforce the importance of human connection at the heart of global cooperation. I am confident that it will be well received as a refreshing story of an outstanding contemporary political leader and a patriot.
(Excerpted from I Am Giorgia: My Roots, My Principles by Giorgia Meloni with permission from Rupa Publications)
