Giorgia Mirto, 2023 SAE-CES Fellowship Winner, Reflects on her research on mourning practices towards Border Death in South Italy

Every year, around October 3rd, the small island of Lampedusa is filled with people. Last year, however, the crowd was even larger than usual. These are not the same tourists who typically crowd the beaches during the summer months. Yet, like them, they fill all the hotels, B&Bs, and guesthouses. The few airlines that service the island are fully booked, and there isn’t a ticket available on the ferry that connects the island to the rest of Sicily. In the town squares, stages are set up, sound checks are conducted, and the local museum arranges timed visits. These are the celebrations for the tenth anniversary of the tragedy that took place on October 3, 2013, in which 368 migrants lost their lives, most of whom were from Eritrea. The tragedy, which occurred about half a mile off the coast of Lampedusa, was widely blamed on delayed rescue efforts. The images of the coffins lined up in the airport hangar circulated around the world, stirring international public opinion (Musarò, 2017). Reactions included the establishment of a National  Day of Remembrance for the Victims of Immigration, instituted by Italian law n. 45/2016. Since then the October 3rd Committee organizes a small festival every year with workshops for schools on immigration and accoglienza (‘welcoming’), as well as debates, and concerts in the public square. Journalists, reporters, photographers, contributing politicians (from near and far), migration experts, and performing students all rush to the island – as indeed do researchers, in no small number.

“Ah, you’re an anthropologist too? What kind of anthropology do you do?” asks the bartender at Bar dell’Amicizia while serving me a coffee. The people of Lampedusa are so used to researchers that they can define the disciplines better than in some university departments.

“It feels like a village fair,” says Anna, a local teacher, expressing frustration over how the tragedy is being handled. Every summer, small Sicilian villages organize festivals to promote local products and, with them, tourism. In Lampedusa’s case, the “local product” would be the migrant tragedies.

“On October 3rd, I stay home and don’t go out until the circus leaves,” says Paola, an activist and guesthouse owner, her voice tinged with exasperation. There are many controversies surrounding the official commemorations, and many other groups – including local and international activists, religious confraternities, and local fisherman who rescued survivors – organize parallel events, though usually respectfully avoiding any overlapping.

Nevertheless, those who take part in the commemoration also include relatives and friends of those who died in that immense tragedy, and in others – including the survivors, who return to the island year after year. They are part of the Eritrean diaspora, now spread across Northern Europe. “I want people to know what happened that night,” says Solomon, a survivor, in a packed amphitheater full of students, illuminated by a spotlight. “Every year I come back here to look for news of my brother,” says Masfin, standing a little away from the main group. Of the victims found in the wreck, only 35 have been identified.

When I entered the field last summer, supported by the SAE-CES Pre-Dissertation Research Fellowship, I did so in collaboration with Father Mussie Zerai, an Eritrean priest and activist dedicated to supporting migrants lost at sea. One of my objectives was to locate the graves of the victims of the October 3 tragedy so that their families can be informed as to where their loved ones are buried.

Beyond the media circus and the sensationalization of maritime tragedies, there is a slow and painful process of mourning taking place in the shadow of the cypress trees in southern Italian cemeteries. My doctoral research focuses on the treatment of bodies, relatives, material remains, and reliquary traces in the aftermath of migrant maritime disasters, and how these shape the struggle over the incorporation of the body and person of the unknown migrant in Sicily.

***

The featured photo shows the cemetery in Castellammare del Golfo (TP), where some of the victims of the shipwrecks of October 3 and 11, 2013, are buried. The graves are situated along the main avenue of the cemetery, so that anyone who passes through the cemetery cannot help but notice the commemorative plaque placed by the local municipality. The photo was taken on November 2, 2024, and the flowers were left by locals, who paid their respects to the victims of the borders during the solemn celebration of All Souls’ Day.