I’ve been yearning to see him since I watched him on TV the week after Oct. 7.
I was lying in bed with my kids tucked tightly around me in my parents’ house in Milan, with my husband already back in Israel serving in the IDF.
I was terrified of what was happening in Israel, and at the same time felt exposed and in danger for the first time in my life in Milan – and so aware that I am Jewish in a world where no one likes us. I huddled my kids around me (even my 18-year-old, who no longer cuddles) on that late Monday evening, hoping to watch TV.
I kept changing channels as ridiculous talk shows argued back and forth about how Israel’s occupation deserved an Oct. 7 while the blood of my brothers and sisters was still wet, and my heart was in pain from words that hurt like sharp knives. Then I stopped on Channel 4 and saw him: Prof. Nicola Porro, host of the talk show Quarta Repubblica (The Fourth Republic).
He talked about Israel with love and admiration while trying to remain composed and balanced. He argued that Israel is the only democratically free country in the Middle East, and that we all must support it, no matter what.
I eventually caught my breath as tears streamed down my face. I was pleased that there are brilliant minds and well-known figures willing to speak the truth and shed some light on the murky and complicated world of the media. Even in the deep, dark forest of ignorance and racism, there is hope for some truth to prevail.
His name was not new to me. Although I don’t live in Italy anymore, I still watch Italian TV when I can and read Italian newspapers.
I pressed the link to follow his Instagram account that has a whopping 350,000 followers, and I was hooked.
Every Monday night, Porro hosts a three-hour live TV show without a teleprompter or script. He seamlessly transitions from one topic to the next, making watching politics as much fun as attending a rock concert. Everything becomes entertaining when Porro handles it.
“This guy is a genius,” I whispered to my parents, as we all became his fans, and our Monday night TV session with Porro became sacred.
I NEEDED to meet him.
“Impossible,” they told me very softly.
Porro (addressed by everybody by his surname) is exceedingly busy, making it very difficult to get an interview with him, according to some workers at the TV station. He is a busy individual with a TV show, a website, and multiple projects. He also teaches at a university, is married, and has two young children.
His family tree springs directly from Italian nobility, with roots dating back to the 1300s. I now recognize the hint of snobbery I felt as my curiosity for Porro’s life became my daily routine while I was basically homeless and jobless in Milan.
Fast-forward to six months later. In the meantime, I had returned home to Israel, witnessed the transformation of my entire world, and shared countless tears and laughs with friends and family as life, death, and victory became part of the new normal we continue to live in today. However, Porro remained somewhere in the back of my mind, defying me about not being able to meet him, while he kept his strong defense for Israel all along the way, never letting me down.
In April, I went back to Italy to spend Passover with my family in the gorgeous town of Portofino. One Friday, as we hurried to finish getting ready for Shabbat, I was crossing a main road with my son in this little picturesque town when I heard someone call out, “Very good – you are not afraid to hide your little kippah and your Jewish identity.”
I turned and saw a man attempting to unlock the seat of his typical Italian Vespa while grinning at me. I quickly checked to make sure he was not a deranged antisemite who was attempting to be ironic.
He said, “Bravo bambino,” which translates to “Very good, little boy.” I stared at him, and my hands began to quiver.
“Porro! It’s you!” I yelled.
I WOULD have leaped straight onto him if I could have. He asked me, “Who are you?” with surprise. “My name is Hadassah Chen, and I’ve been looking for you for the past six months!”
He responded, “You are Hadassah Chen?” sounding astonished; apparently, he had heard my name.
“Thank you for everything you do for us Jews, for being who you are, for not being afraid, and for your simply being smart,” I said appreciatively, sounding like a broken record while hoping that his Vespa wouldn’t start so he could spend more time with me in the middle of traffic on that cloudy Friday.
“You are the best, you Jews; you are strong and courageous…” he said. I raised my unsteady hands, we exchanged phone numbers, and I even pulled off a successful selfie of the two of us. We spoke for a while, and when he left I walked into the toy store right across the street and told my son to choose anything he wanted. “Today we celebrate, my boy.”
The interview
A WEEK later, I was in a cozy cafe in the middle of Milan with the rain pouring outside. I still could not believe that Porro would soon be sitting down with me for an interview. He appeared at 3 p.m. sharp while cursing in his unique way, “All those idiots of climate change theory,” as he shrugged the rain off his jacket. “I am finishing a book about this whole conspiracy and how I will prove them all wrong.”
I laughed and felt comfortable right away. We were like two students sitting in the university cafeteria discussing theories and life. He is 55, with the energy and spunk of a 22-year-old.
I got right to the point. “Why do you behave in this way?” I asked in a serious tone. “Why are you exposing yourself so much for us, for Israel? People recognize you; it can get dangerous – you are courageous.”
“Those who are on the front line are courageous,” he responded. “I am not; my wife believes I am reckless, and she may be right. Since I was a young teenager, I have always supported Israel. I read all the American literature whose authors were mostly Jewish. It represents my values of justice, of freedom; Israel represents me and what I stand for, and I feel compelled to say what I think is right.”
I swiftly responded, “But you are not Jewish yourself, right?”
“I’m not, but I think my wife’s family has Jewish ancestry. Her great-grandparents were wealthy bankers from Genoa who were deported to concentration camps.” He quickly added about his wife, as though he had just read my mind, “She probably is Jewish.”
“I’ll have a double espresso, please,” I said, turning to the waiter while hiding my smiling face.
THOUGH HE seemed calm and patient, his mind moved quickly and it was difficult to keep up with him. I felt as though I didn’t have much time. We attempted to discuss every topic related to Israel’s complex situation.
Porro does not understand why Benjamin Netanyahu is being held – as he sees it – as solely accountable for the Oct. 7 calamity; he appears to be our prime minister’s admirer. While acknowledging that Netanyahu has made some political gaffes, Porro still thinks that the prime minister is the only one with the strength and personality needed to handle this situation.
“When I first saw him in 1994, he wasn’t prime minister, but I could tell he was a strong politician. I hope to see him again,” he said.
“Oct. 7 came to the world to prevent the normalization with Saudi Arabia that was about to be signed, and whoever negates it is a fool,” Porro said bluntly. “If it were up to me, I would coin a new slogan: ‘Israel is all of us,’ as the world doesn’t seem to realize that Israel, with its nine million citizens, is fighting a battle for freedom and security for all of humanity.
“Israel lacks marketing talent; Hamas is much ahead in this,” he lamented. “I just hope it won’t be too late for all of us to wake up because the enemy is already knocking on our door here in Europe. These upper-class idiots on the Left don’t seem to quite get it,” he concluded, taking a sip of espresso.
I WAS completely engrossed and therefore surprised when he asked me to tell him about myself and our lives in Israel.
This is what I admire about Nicola: He knows how to listen, he is interested in others, and he is curious and fearless. He swears out loud when things upset him, but he never sounds vulgar; he is a snob by definition, yet so approachable and straightforward.
“Israel ought to develop a new app that would automatically notify users on their phones every time missiles are launched, and calculates the number of lives that could have been lost in the event that the unbelievable invention, made by a Jew, known as the Iron Dome, would not exist,” he suggested. “You should demonstrate how many lives were saved in your country when your enemy presents ludicrous figures of civilian deaths on the Palestinian side that have never been accurately checked.”
He was a never-ending stream of ideas and thoughts. “The Palestinians are the ‘atomic bomb’ of those Arab countries against you; they are the ‘workers’ of the Iranian regime.”
“Are you going to pursue politics next?” I grinned and asked.
“Never!” he responded emphatically. “I’m good at talking and expressing my opinions. I want to make my own money and spend it however I please. I want to drink, smoke, and do anything I want without having to worry about being seen or judged. Look what they did to Bibi in your country when he smoked a few cigars – it’s a joke. In Italy, half of the politicians would be arrested; give the man some peace.”
Looking me in the eye, he became serious and told me he had seen the hour-long video from the terrorist GoPro. “It should be played 24/7 around the world to remind us what is coming if we don’t stop them.”
I SEIZED the moment and shot straight at him: “Don’t tell me you believe in a two-state solution!”
“I do,” he responded.
I was taken aback, as though I had been smacked across the face. Porro and I disagree greatly on this subject.
It appeared that he had to leave, but I needed to clarify my position. I looked at my phone and realized that he had given me more than an hour.
“I want you to come to Israel: Israelis need to know you!” I exclaimed. “And I want to show you the beautiful side of my country, aside from the destroyed kibbutzim and the difficulties you know well.”
We still have a lot to discuss, including the people who reside in Judea and Samaria, whose perspectives Porro has not fully grasped and is curious about, as well as the religious Jews – the “extremists” he refers to – and my feelings regarding the Arab Israelis who work, live, and study in Israel. He is always hungry to know more and willing to learn from those who might know more than him on different subjects.
We bade our farewells, and as he attempted to pay for my coffee, the cashier smiled to acknowledge him. “It’s on the house, professor.”
“You know, my dad visited a kibbutz a long time ago to learn how to make olive oil. We have our own brand called Rasciatano in the Murgia countryside, a breathtaking hilly area located in the middle of the Land of Bari,” he said, sharing one more unexpected Porro fact that I will treasure.
He promised he would travel to Israel as soon as possible.
“Just don’t take me to eat kebab; it looks so ugly and crude.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, professor, I will take you to King David, the hotel, not the man, and we shall have the finest wines and meat.”
“Nah, take me to a kibbutz; I’m a kibbutz man at heart.”
There shone the twinkle in his eye again.
It was magic.