Regularly, every day of the week (never mind Saturday or Sunday), morning, noon, afternoon or evening (no matter what time), I am literally ‘assaulted’ by the constant, deafening sirens of police cars escorting the various judges. Now I ask you: how can a person possibly get a little rest during her time off from work, or at least watch a television programme in peace, when even with the windows closed, the noise of the sirens is so loud? I ask you: why don’t they build villas for these ‘illustrious gentlemen’ in the outskirts of the city?

Villas in the outskirts of the city. Why don’t you people go and fight your battles someplace else, outside the city? The lady writing the letter is not a mafiosa, but she considers the fight against the Mafia pointless. After all, obeying the Mafia is very simple: if you don’t cross them, you get what you’ve been promised. With the government it’s more complicated: often you don’t get what the law should provide, and it’s harder to lead a life consistent with lawful principles, especially in the South. Falcone and the anti-mafia pool immediately come under attack. Falcone is accused of being a carrierista, a careerist, an opportunist who does what he does to enhance his own personal power. The same Giornale di Sicilia writes in 1986:

The comical figures of bizarre judges who populate the judiciary proscenium of our times: the judge who, wearing a bulletproof vest, pistol in hand, swoops in with his helicopter, seizes thousands of documents, then vanishes over the horizon like a white knight […] the one who, leading dozens and dozens of armed troops, storms the location of the blitz of the day, after making sure that the press was tipped off beforehand […] or the judge who offers the defence attorney a passport or some other favour, if his client will only decide to cooperate. […]

Are those real judges? […] If he weren’t dashing around, tyres squealing in his armoured Alfetta, surrounded by TV cameras and floodlights, if the poor judge, sitting alone, bent over the bound volumes of the penal code, were to see to it that the rules, that is, the parties’ rights, were respected in the trials, he would not have the benefit of publicity nor, alas, of official merit and recognition.

It is important to remember these words because today we tend to think that Giovanni Falcone was supported in his battle from the outset. In fact, he never was, except by a very few. Those who take a stand against the Mafia, and especially those with Falcone’s skills, face the usual accusation: ‘You’re doing it for your own interest, you’re doing it because you think you’re better than us.’ The Giornale di Sicilia, in November 1986, carries a headline asking whether the fight against the Mafia is becoming a huge spectacle.