By Marc Eliot Stein, World BEYOND War, October 31, 2025
We met Tommaso Delfanti on episode 75 of the World BEYOND War podcast, and he’s back this month for a deeper investigation into the causes and effects of the disastrous Ukraine/Russia War, as well as an evaluation of popular arguments, justifications and cliches that we commonly hear for the war that continues to generate misery and outrage in Central Europe every day.
We cover a lot of ground in this conversation: Tommaso’s near-recruitment as an Italian fighter pilot, the book “Chickenhawk” by Robert Mason, military wiring of human brains, the question of violence as a basic human instinct, the history of the Russian revolution, the Holodomor, the Minsk Accords, the history of USA bullying of Latin American countries and current attacks on Venezuela, Israel’s murder of Palestinian journalists and the Trump administration’s exploitation of hate speech towards immigrants and refugees. The title of this episode comes from a remark spoken by Tommaso: “I hope in the method there is less blood”. Indeed, we live in a time when blood is spilling recklessly, and everyone who yearns for peace and justice in the world is crying.
I often ask my guests to suggest an antiwar song from their own part of the world to excerpt for each episode, and Tommaso came up with a real doozy: a powerful new antiwar song by the Italian rock band Negrita. Lyrics in both languages below.
Io non sono intelligente, ma in fondo è tutto molto chiaroVoi padroni della Terra che vi ingozzate di denaroAvete fatto bene i conti, finemente calcolatoChe arricchirvi con la guerra qui è tutt’altro che un reatoE volete che ammazziamo per due confini e tre bandiereDelle stupide pedine sul vostro lurido scacchiereCon l’antica strategia del dividi ed imperaMa mandate i figli vostri a crepare alla frontiera, oh
Se non esistono i nemici all’improvviso li createFomentando le paure dai tg e dalle testateÈ una storia che va avanti da prima che nascessi ioSe scarseggiano le scuse, allora tirate fuori Dio
Ma che Dio vi maledica e vi metta in una baraPer un potervi seppellire con fiori e la fanfaraE noi saremo lì presenti, sorridenti a controllareChe davvero siate morti e non possiate ritornare più
Già ci vedo censurati, ma non mi importa che vuoi fareDel resto ho gli occhi per vedere e una lingua per parlareSe non vi piace quel che dico, non prendetemi a modelloMa non sarò di certo io a sparare mio fratello
Questa mia maledizione è una canzone e va cantataIn nome di tutta la gente, quella morta e quella appena nataPerdonate i toni forti, ma mi sono nauseatoMentre cerco tra le stelle la bellezza del creato
E guardo il bluE di colpo tutto questo non c’è piùE si può volare ancora e atterrare sul pianeta che non c’èVia da questi folli scimpanzé
Nel bluE di colpo tutto questo non c’è piùE si può volare ancora, atterrando sul pianeta che non c’èVia da questi assurdi scimpanzé
IN THE BLUE (A LETTER TO THE MASTERS OF WAR)
(Translation from antiwarsongs.org)
You might say I’m unlearned, but there’s one thing I know:
You masters of the Earth, raking in all the dough—
You did the math, ran all your calculations,
And figured out that war profits need no justification.You want us to kill for borders and flags,
Just stupid pawns in your cynical drag.
It’s the same old game—divide and rule—
Then send your own sons to die, you fools.When there are no enemies, you go and create them,
Feeding our fears with your screens and your papers.
This tale’s been told since before I was born—
When lies run dry, you claim God’s the reason for war.So may God damn you and lay you down in a casket,
We’ll bury you deep, with flowers and a marching band.
And we’ll stand on your grave with a smile on our faces,
Till we’re sure that you’re dead, and gone for good.I know we’ll be censored, but I don’t give a damn.
I’ve got eyes to see and a voice that stands.
If you don’t like what I say, don’t look up to me—
But I won’t be the one to shoot at my brother.This is a curse, a song I have to sing,
For the ones who died and the newborns we bring.
Forgive the harsh tones—I’m just sick to my soul,
As I search through the stars for what makes us whole.I look at the blue—
And suddenly, it’s all gone.
Still we can fly and land on Planet Nowhere,
Far from these mad monkeys.
In the blue—
And suddenly, it’s all gone.
Still we can fly and land on Planet Nowhere,
Far from these mad monkeys.
In the blue
You masters of the Earth, raking in all the dough—
You did the math, ran all your calculations,
And figured out that war profits need no justification.You want us to kill for borders and flags,
Just stupid pawns in your cynical drag.
It’s the same old game—divide and rule—
Then send your own sons to die, you fools.When there are no enemies, you go and create them,
Feeding our fears with your screens and your papers.
This tale’s been told since before I was born—
When lies run dry, you claim God’s the reason for war.So may God damn you and lay you down in a casket,
We’ll bury you deep, with flowers and a marching band.
And we’ll stand on your grave with a smile on our faces,
Till we’re sure that you’re dead, and gone for good.I know we’ll be censored, but I don’t give a damn.
I’ve got eyes to see and a voice that stands.
If you don’t like what I say, don’t look up to me—
But I won’t be the one to shoot at my brother.This is a curse, a song I have to sing,
For the ones who died and the newborns we bring.
Forgive the harsh tones—I’m just sick to my soul,
As I search through the stars for what makes us whole.I look at the blue—
And suddenly, it’s all gone.
Still we can fly and land on Planet Nowhere,
Far from these mad monkeys.
In the blue—
And suddenly, it’s all gone.
Still we can fly and land on Planet Nowhere,
Far from these mad monkeys.
In the blue
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