Milan Braces for More Unrest as Italy's 'Lost Generation' Fuels Fierce Debate

A journalist was struck by a flying object and needed stitches, and more than 271 young people were detained during two days of unrest.

In the shadow of Milan's cathedral, a march over rents and living costs that began in peaceful weariness slid into violence, and a generation that feels it has been handed a closed future found itself confronted with batons, teargas and the quick hand of the state. Across two days, more than two hundred young people were detained, and a journalist bore the physical mark of the chaos. The episode gathers into a larger and older Italian question about whether a young population left without a path forward can be heard, or whether it will only be met with ever harder measures. As the country moves toward its next elections, the answer is still being written in the streets and in the anger of those who feel they have no place in its future.

Martina Miccichè was filming riot police as they beat and dragged a teenager across Piazza del Duomo when something flew through the air and struck her near the right eye. She needed stitches. The 34-year-old journalist had been walking with several hundred mostly young people protesting soaring living costs and unaffordable housing, a march that echoed economic anger spreading across Europe and the latest of many youth protests during Giorgia Meloni's four years as prime minister.

Miccichè says the mood stayed peaceful until police blocked a street near the square and began grabbing people at random. As teargas filled the piazza, masked youths on the fringes moved into the fashion district, smashing windows and looting shops. The violence returned on Sunday, drawn by social media chats promising luxury goods, with many arrivals from marginalised outskirts. Over two days police detained more than 271 young people, 32 of them arrested, 23 minors among them.

The government responded swiftly with measures aimed at minors, expanded police powers, financial liability for parents, and 500 troops for Milan. Some of the same tools now reach the south, where lorry drivers blocking roads over fuel prices have been reported and fined.

In Barona, a council estate in south-west Milan, young people speak of feeling unheard. Barrio's bar owners say the looting grows from years of invisibility, and an 18-year-old trainee chef says he sees no future in Italy. Sociologist Mauro Magatti warns that a generation feeling abandoned will not be calmed by repression, and that the tone must come down before the real problems can be faced. A new online movement has promised weekly gatherings, and with elections due next year, both sides expect the tension to grow.

Martina Miccichè was filming riot police as they kicked and beat a teenager with batons and dragged him across Piazza del Duomo, the square in front of Milan's cathedral, when something flew through the air and struck her near the right eye. The blow left a deep gash and bruising, and she needed stitches. The 34-year-old journalist had joined a march of several hundred, mostly young people, who walked through the city last Saturday afternoon to protest soaring living costs and unaffordable housing.

The march echoes a wider wave of economic discontent running through Europe. It was also not the first time Italy's young people have spoken out during Giorgia Meloni's four years as prime minister, even though her ruling coalition has steadily expanded its crackdown on security and public dissent. A new round of protests is planned for this Saturday in Milan and other major Italian cities.

Miccichè said the mood was peaceful until about 5pm, when police blocked access to Via Broletto, a street roughly a 10-minute walk from the square. She said police turned "suddenly violent" as they pushed the crowd back with shields, and then began grabbing people at random, hitting and kicking them. "It was shocking," she said. As police filled the square with teargas and tourists looked on, a group of masked youths on the fringes moved into the surrounding fashion district. They tore down road signs, set bins on fire and smashed shop windows, among them Footlocker and Levi's, and looted the stores.

The vandalism resumed on Sunday, when gangs returned to the city centre, many of them lured by the promise of luxury goods through a network of social media chats. Most came from marginalised areas on the outskirts. Across the two days police detained more than 271 young people. Thirty-two were arrested, including 23 minors and 13 foreign nationals.

After Italian media published images of injured officers, the government moved quickly. It enacted further measures aimed at minors and expanding police powers, including making parents financially responsible for their children's vandalism and looting, and it sent 500 troops to Milan. The new legislation also criminalises violent participation in a demonstration and toughens penalties for rioters. Some of these measures are now being applied in the south, where lorry drivers have blocked roads for more than a week over high petrol prices, disrupting supermarket supplies. Authorities have reported 71 people to the judicial authorities and fined 242 over the blockades, an act made illegal in an earlier security bill. A government official warned that obstructing public highways could carry jail terms.

Miccichè sees a common thread. "This government just tries to repress protesters instead of listening to them," she said. She argued that young people everywhere are angry and so frightened of the present that they cannot think about the future. She also claimed racial profiling has become the norm in Milan, especially in the centre and near the train stations.

The weekend's unrest, which included protests in Turin and Bologna, has sharpened debate over Italy's "lost generation" and exposed a divide between marginalised and immigrant youth and those with better prospects. Right-wing politicians and the press often label working-class Italians and second- and third-generation immigrants as maranza, a derogatory term for groups of young people who gather in city centres. Many come from places like Barona, a sprawling council estate in south-west Milan.

There, Domenico Ricci and Luca Orlando run a bar that is part of Barrio's, a cultural hub for the district's youth. "We are all children of this widespread malaise," Ricci said. Orlando, whose parents came from Calabria, called the looting a symptom of years of feeling unheard and invisible, and said the government only invents new crimes instead of engaging in dialogue. He added that Milan is being discussed only because of the violence, not the underlying issues. Thomas, 18, a trainee chef from Barona, wants to leave Italy as soon as possible: "I see no future here." His friend Mohamed, an Italian citizen of Moroccan origin who hopes to become a lawyer, said that mistakes must be paid for, but that the more a government ignores protesters, the angrier they get.

Sociologist Mauro Magatti of Milan's Catholic University of the Sacred Heart said a sense of abandonment affects an entire generation, and that excessive repression risks enlarging the protest. Violence must be condemned, he said, but the tone needs lowering so the real problems can be addressed.

Police and military presence in central Milan built up in the days before this Saturday's protest, which was organised by a new online movement that has pledged to gather every weekend until the government falls. Security guards now stand outside shops damaged or looted last weekend. With general elections due next year, Miccichè warned that the protests are likely to grow.

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