Il Braghettone
The Art of Erasure — and What It Reveals
In my latest Camino a Ítaca column for HOY, I begin with a haunting image: a Banksy mural that appeared one night on the façade of London’s High Court — a furious vision of justice turned executioner, of law stripped of its ceremony and reduced to raw violence. The piece, a protest against Britain’s complicity in the Gaza genocide, was swiftly erased the next morning. But as the cleaners scrubbed the wall, they left behind a ghostly imprint — a spectral trace that spoke louder than the original work.
That phantom, I argue, is the perfect metaphor for our times: how states, institutions, and societies try to erase dissent and uncomfortable truths, yet in doing so, only etch them deeper into our collective memory.
From London to Spain, the pattern repeats. While España power-washes away its fascist past — dismantling monuments as if history itself could be bleached — the rhetoric and reflexes of that era still echo in Parliament, in the streets, and in the quiet complicity of those who prefer not to look.
The real lesson, I suggest, lies not in the erasure but in the scar. Scars testify. They don’t flatter or soothe; they remind. They whisper that the wound was real.
Read the full piece in HOY:
👉 “Braghettone” — Camino a Ítaca, by Troy Nahumko or click over https://drive.google.com/file/d/13KKmXZmrBWnoztWdsVAN4SUzA0JY32lZ/view?usp=sharing
This topic was also explored more in depth in English over on Counterpunch.
