Over the past forty-eight hours, I have probably received more messages, phone calls, and requests for my opinion than I normally receive in several weeks combined. Friends, activists, elected officials, and people I have known for years have all asked me essentially the same question: “What now?”
To be honest, the question did not surprise me at all.
Anyone who knows me is fully aware of how closely I have followed Donald Trump over the last decade. They know how many articles I have written about him, how many books I have dedicated to his political journey, how many times I have traveled to the United States to cover his campaigns, and how consistently I have argued that his rise represented something far greater than the victory of a Republican candidate.
At the same time, however, you also know how deep my bond with Giorgia Meloni is. It is a bond that did not begin today or yesterday, but one rooted in more than thirty years of political activism, friendship, and battles fought side by side, back when nobody would have bet a single euro that a young woman from Rome who came out of the Youth Front would one day become Prime Minister of Italy and one of the most influential leaders in the Western world.
That is why so many people felt compelled to ask for my opinion after Trump’s attacks on Giorgia Meloni, and even more so after the video I published yesterday.
I offer that opinion without partisanship, without convenience, and without calculation. Anyone who has followed my path knows that I have always considered conviction more important than convenience and that I have never had much talent for jumping on the winner’s bandwagon. After all, when you have spent most of your life on the right at a time when being on the right meant being in the minority, that is not a habit you are likely to develop.
On a personal level, I will not deny that this entire affair has left me with a certain bitterness. Pretending otherwise would be hypocritical. Yet personal emotions matter relatively little. If one aspires to be a credible analyst and, above all, if one holds a political role, there is a duty to look at facts for what they are, without being swept away by tribal loyalties. Cheering is useful in a stadium; it is far less useful when discussing the future of the West.
And the facts, at least in my view, are quite simple.
I continue to believe that Donald Trump has played a historic role, not only for the United States but for Western civilization as a whole. When he announced his candidacy in 2015, he was treated as a sideshow act destined to disappear within a few months. When he won in 2016, he was portrayed as a threat to democracy. When he left the White House after the events of Capitol Hill, virtually everyone considered him finished. Yet he came back because he understood before most others that millions of people no longer recognized themselves in a world that viewed identity, tradition, family, borders, and national belonging as relics of the past to be discarded in the name of a soulless globalization.
For that reason, I have always maintained that his victory in 2024 was good news for the West. I still believe that today. Had the American progressive left returned to the White House, we would most likely be discussing a far more troubling scenario than a dispute between conservative leaders.
That is precisely why I consider what has happened to be even more serious.
Because we expect more from someone who serves as a point of reference for millions of conservatives. Because we expect someone who led the resistance against woke ideology, against ideological open-border politics, and against the dominant orthodoxy to be able to distinguish between opponents and allies. And Giorgia Meloni, whether some people like it or not, is not merely an ally of the United States. Today, she is Europe’s most authoritative leader.
I say this not only because I know her personally, but because I know her story.
Allow me a personal digression.
In 2004, I was one of the delegates present in Viterbo at the Youth Action congress that elected Giorgia as national president. I was among those who contributed, in our own small way, to that victory through Entrainazione.it, an initiative we created to support her candidacy and which quickly became something much larger than a simple campaign platform. It evolved into a meeting place and a forum for hundreds of young people from across Italy who shared the same vision of the right: modern, yet proud of its roots.
I remember that day perfectly—the enthusiasm, the emotion, even the tears that accompanied the announcement of her election. I remember running toward her and saying something that still makes me smile today: “You’re the first woman I’ve ever cried for.” She burst out laughing, but she was just as emotional as I was.
I am not sharing this story out of nostalgia, nor to claim any special credit. I share it because it explains better than any argument why I had absolutely no hesitation in immediately defending Giorgia Meloni. Not because of tribal loyalty, not because it was convenient, and not even because of friendship, but because there are people who become part of your story and battles that help define who you are.
If there is one lesson I have learned over all these years, it is that loyalty to your principles matters only when it comes at a cost. Anyone can be loyal when it is convenient. Remaining loyal when it would be easier to look the other way is something entirely different.
That is why I had no hesitation in saying that Trump is wrong. And I would add that, in my opinion, he should also reflect on other recent decisions, beginning with his posture toward the Persian people. For years, millions of Iranians have looked to the West as their only hope for freedom against a regime that has crushed dissent, imprisoned opponents, and suppressed every attempt at change. When tens of thousands of people took to the streets to challenge that system, they did so because they believed the free world would not abandon them. That issue, too, deserves serious reflection.
Many people, in these hours, are reacting in the way Italians often do, swinging from one extreme to the other. Until yesterday, Trump was an infallible genius; today, for some, he has suddenly become an enemy. I do not see it that way. I believe it is possible to defend Giorgia Meloni without repudiating Donald Trump. Just as I believe it is possible to acknowledge Trump’s historic role without closing one’s eyes to his mistakes. In fact, I believe that is the only serious and coherent position.
Politics is not a religion. Leaders are not deities. Loyalty to individuals can never come before loyalty to principles.
Ronald Reagan understood this perfectly when he forged, together with Pope John Paul II, one of the most extraordinary political and cultural alliances in modern history. He understood that America cannot truly be great if the West is weak, and that American strength and Western strength are inseparable. He understood that a civilization is defended together—or it is not defended at all.
It is a lesson all of us should remember today, including Donald Trump.
Because America can be great again only if the West remains great as well. And because, in this struggle, Giorgia Meloni represents one of the most valuable allies the United States could possibly have. Not a vassal, not a courtier, and certainly not a supporting player, but a leader who has demonstrated the political strength and courage necessary to defend her convictions even when doing so means disagreeing with friends.
For that reason, I hope common sense and strategic vision prevail. I hope Trump recognizes the mistake he has made and understands that strengthening his relationship with Giorgia Meloni means strengthening Italy, the United States, and the West as a whole.
As for me, I have no doubts.
I defended Donald Trump when he was under attack from a system that wanted to erase him. I defend Giorgia Meloni today against accusations that I consider deeply unfair. And tomorrow I will defend anyone whom I believe stands on the right side of a battle that is larger than any individual.
Because in the end, after so many years in politics, I still believe in one very simple rule:
I love only what I am willing to defend.
