On the side of the natives

Fabrizio De André's interest in Native American culture ran through much of his artistic output, eventually becoming one of the crucial elements of the album "Fabrizio De André" (1981), which has gone down in history as "L'indiano" ("The Indian"). Written together with the Veronese singer-songwriter Massimo Bubola, the record weaves the still-fresh memory of Faber's own kidnapping together with broader reflections on freedom and marginalization, in which the tale of the extermination of Native Americans overlaps with the torn identities of defeated peoples; the search for freedom shades into the only seemingly solitary lives of shepherds, who live in close communion with nature. Songs like "Hotel Supramonte", "Quello che non ho" and "Fiume Sand Creek" reflect this approach. And, speaking of his own kidnapping, De André would even go on to forgive his kidnappers, stating: "I consider myself the victim of a band of Sioux who had to prove their worth, and to whom white society leaves no other way of making a living."

But De André's support for the Native American cause was not confined to his songs: in 1992 it translated into a public stance against the celebrations for the 500th anniversary of the discovery of America.

While Genoa was preparing for the events dedicated to Christopher Columbus, De André refused to take part in the official celebrations, even though he had been invited to perform alongside Bob Dylan. It was a choice the singer-songwriter openly explained during the tour that began in 1991 and ended, fittingly, in Genoa in September 1992.

The episode is also recounted in "Parola di Faber" (Arcana), a book by Laura Monferdini that collects remarks, stories and statements made by De André during his tours. That tour, the fifth for Fabrizio De André and his musicians, began in February 1991 in Porto San Giorgio, in the province of Fermo in the Marche region, and would end on September 27, 1992 in Genoa with a special concert dedicated to Eritrea. Just under 50 dates that took him back around Italy. During those shows, De André often returned to the theme of the colonization of the Americas and the extermination of indigenous peoples, especially when introducing "Fiume Sand Creek", a song dedicated to the massacre carried out in 1864 by Colonel Chivington against Cheyenne women, elders and children.

During a concert in Porto San Giorgio, he explained the meaning of the song and his own view of the Columbus celebrations in these terms: "It's the story of the massacre of about a hundred women, elderly people and children that took place on the banks of the river of the same name back in 1864, at the hands of Colonel Chivington and his soldiers. I don't want to go on about it, because my way of speaking out isn't through talk, but through song. I do want to say, though, that on the night of October 12, 1992, I will not be celebrating the 500th anniversary of what is wrongly considered the discovery of America. Wrongly, because when Christopher Columbus, with his flowing hair, dreamy eyes and undoubtedly stinking feet, landed on the island later called Santo Domingo, he found there the people who would come to be called Dominicans. So Columbus didn't discover a damn thing."

The same idea was reiterated in another statement that has since become famous: "I want to restate, to remind everyone, that it wasn't a discovery, if anything a rediscovery. Because when Christopher Columbus, with the usual 'flowing hair, dreamy eyes' and undoubtedly stinking feet, landed on the island of San Domingo, there was already a population there, the people who would later be called 'Dominicans'. And they had been there for some 20 or 30 thousand years: they had crossed the Bering Strait along with all the others, who would in turn come to be called 'Indians'. So, on the evening of October 12, 1992, as far as I'm concerned, I will stand by the Indians and remember with them what they consider to be the day of their greatest national mourning."

For De André, then, October 12 was not an occasion for celebration, but a day of mourning. That's why he also insisted on the need to symbolically apologize to the victims of the European conquest: "It seems right to bring up this subject again precisely on the occasion of the events that will be held, because while over here people will be toasting to Columbus, on the other side of the Atlantic, on that same day, there will be a people for whom that date represents their greatest national mourning. In short, it's the kind of thing where you should take a caravel and sail back down there to apologize."

When the Genoa '92 International Expo arrived, staged in the Porto Antico area restored by Renzo Piano, the singer-songwriter kept his promise and turned down the official invitation. His reasoning was blunt: "I don't celebrate massacres."

Not even the presence of Bob Dylan made him change his mind. Commenting on the announced participation of the American musician, De André stated: “I don't think Bob Dylan knows he's supposed to sing right there. He too belongs to a rather persecuted race and should withdraw.”

That wasn't the only occasion on which De André missed the chance to meet the songwriter from Duluth. In 1984, in fact, he even turned down a tour that would have seen him share the stage with Bob Dylan and Santana, who were embarking on a European tour destined to go down in history, not least for Italian audiences. The schedule gave Italy a starring role: two opening dates at the Arena di Verona (28 and 29 May), followed by three concerts at the Palazzo dello Sport in Rome (19, 20 and 21 June) and the grand finale at Milan's Stadio Meazza on 24 June. The six Italian dates were handled by promoter David Zard, who thought of making the event even more memorable by pairing the two international legends with the most prestigious singer-songwriter on the Italian scene, namely Fabrizio De André himself. Years earlier, the Genoese songwriter's publisher had received a letter from Bob Dylan praising his version – written together with Massimo Bubola – of “Romance in Durango”. As the story goes, the Minnesota songwriter was deeply struck by De André's voice, especially after David Zard played him “La buona novella”, translating the lyrics for him on the spot. Buoyed by that interest, the promoter offered De André the possibility of a duet with Dylan on stage, and even future recording collaborations.

The proposal, however, never came to fruition. “Fabrizio turned it down because he didn't feel ready,” Dori Ghezzi revealed to Mario Luzzatto Fegiz of Corriere della Sera. “Our dear friend Fernanda Pivano, who knew both him and Dylan well, once said to him mischievously: 'Tell me the truth, Fabrizio, didn't you just not want Dori to meet Dylan?'”

A journalist from the time, however, recalled the episode differently: “When Zard told me what had happened, I asked De André why he had turned down such an opportunity. He replied, with a swagger that wasn't like him: 'I don't play support act to anyone.' Then he added, jokingly I think: 'If I found myself on a stage next to Dylan, I'd probably shit myself.' Years later, when I reminded him of it, he denied it: 'If I said that, it was just a joke.'”

In truth, by that point De André was already fully immersed in the making of “Creuza de mä”, the project that would become the boldest and most innovative of his career, developed together with his friend Mauro Pagani (Pfm).

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12/05/2026