Genoa bridge collapse: Deeply moving state funeral was 'angry and awkwardly political' at times
Sky's Mark Stone reports on the atmosphere at the state funeral for 19 of the 43 people who died in the Genoa bridge collapse.
Saturday 18 August 2018 18:37, UK
I wasn't quite sure what to expect: the idea of a state funeral for a tragedy many blame on the state - it felt a little awkward.
It was to be held in the Fiera di Genoa, the city's bland concrete convention centre.
Two hours before it was due to begin people started to arrive. An hour before, the hall was almost full. They had turned up in their hundreds.
A sterile concrete hall was transformed into a place of worship.
At the front, there was an altar, crucifix, flowers everywhere and incense wafting.
For the people of this city, it had become a place to reflect on the day their bridge collapsed.
The families of 19 of those who died wanted their grieving to be part of this state funeral.
Nineteen coffins had been placed in a curved line in front of the altar stage.
Chairs had been placed next to each for the families.
It was intense and private, and yet the city was behind them.
Every time a group of rescuers entered the hall, spontaneous applause would begin. Their work has been constant and they've saved many lives.
At times it was understandably angry and awkwardly political.
The leader of the Democratic Party - in government until a few months ago - was booed as he arrived. It's his government which is shouldering some blame.
The current deputy prime minister Matteo Salvini, who's spent much time this week calling for those responsible to pay, was applauded.
But mostly, it was deeply moving: a service which provided space, for a moment, away from blame and bitterness; a moment to mourn.
On top of each coffin was a photograph.
Andrea was on his way to work at the port. His friends told us this week how they'd take care of his wife and son.
Roberto, Ersilia and their son Samuele were on their way to see relatives.
William and his friend Nathan were from France and on their way to Sardinia.
Father-of-four Luigi was in his work van driving across the bridge.
The city's archbishop, Cardinal Angelo Bagnasco, led the service. Genoa's heart, he said, had been ripped out, but the city will not give up.
The prime minister, Giuseppe Conte, and his two deputies, Luigi Di Maio and Matteo Salvini, supported the relatives, embracing some, shaking hands with many. It seemed this new radical government was welcome here.
And yet, remember, most victims' families chose not to be part of this.
A senior government minister told me before the service that he understood why they stayed away.
"Yes. They are right. I think we have to be here. And the people have to decide to be here or not be here," Eduardo Rixi, the deputy transport minister, said.
Mr Salvini and Mr Di Maio's departure from the service felt uncomfortable. Without seeking it, they were cheered and embraced almost like rockstars. It didn't feel like the place for that.
But then they are popular here. Their election victory a few months back came because they offered something different; a new hope to replace the stale politics of before.
By no means everyone likes them, though. Mr Salvini is a scary far-right radical for a significant proportion of Italians.
He's harnessed the public mood perfectly here, though. There's no question that what happened in Genoa on Tuesday will have a political impact nationally.