I have never been convinced that playing with fake weapons as a child is a good idea. Someone will say that no, it is not serious, that after all they are toys, that all generations of males have had their lead and plastic soldiers. I keep thinking that it could be done without, that children could be raised without making them play war. And I think about it more clearly looking at this photo whose protagonist is another photo.
The one sent to Igor, seven, by his father in Ukraine. Igor is in Italy, and his father is in the country at war. In the photo there is a tank. And I don’t know, nor do I want to, interpret Igor’s gaze. Incredulous? Surprised? Admired? I do not know. But I know that that tank is not a toy. And that it is already too late to ask what mark will remain on these children – these and those who have lived through the Balkan wars and are now adults; these and those who live in Syria or Libya or Yemen – what a sign will remain on those who see, from too close, adults playing war seriously.