Thankfully, it was only a tear gas round, and whoever had fired it at me had aimed at my legs.
If you’ve ever seen such ammunition hit people in the neck and face, it could have been a lot worse. Still, it was a drag. Hitting my left ankle, I nearly fell over upon impact.
Thankfully, I’m an avid cyclist with an excellent sense of balance. I took this as my cue to exit the demonstration and head home.
Photographing leftist protestors trying to stand up to water cannons and tear gas, I’d taken enormous risks putting myself in the line of fire.
While I didn’t want to think I’d been targeted, whoever shot me definitely knew I was there and did the best job they could to get me out of the way.
In some ways, the vulnerability I felt was worse than getting hurt. I’m no longer a teenager, and I need to be more careful. I was lucky this time. I might not be the next.
A protest against the Meloni government’s eviction of the Akatasuna social centre, one of the most politically influential squats in the country, this was bound to be explosive.
Especially given the heavy police presence in the neighbourhood, which had been placed under complete lockdown.
To the locals I spoke with, it felt like a military occupation. That’s how they described it.
Beginning at the University of Torino, winding its way through Borgo Vanchiglia to Corso Regina Margherita, the tension on the protesters’ faces was palpable.
Worried would be a kind way of describing their facial expressions. Fear, the kind you feel before something is about to get out of control, is more like it.
That’s why, rather than saying more about the event and telling you what I think of it, the following images do a far better job of conveying what happened.
Visual journalism is, as always, underrated. Particularly when it comes to news publishing, which focuses on photographs of politicians rather than politics, as it impacts people on the ground.
The emotional nature of some of these photos and the violence they capture says it all. Not just about the violence they cover, but the lack of consistent political photography in the press.
In an era when images like these are more easily found on social media, where they get buried under a deluge of ever-newer pictures, photo essays are the perfect time-out for reflection.
I can’t think of a better way to wrap up this year’s publishing schedule than sharing these shots. The Battleground will resume regular publication on the fifth of January.
Photographs courtesy of Joel Schalit. All rights reserved.
