The View from Bologna

The media works miracles

Patient V.Z., a 66 year old housewife suffered a stroke which compromised her ability to recognise and name people, animals, and objects, Internazionale reported, quoting a study from Cortex magazine.

The woman was able to recognise the face of the Pope (John Paul II), but couldn't work out who he was.

When shown a photo of Silvio Berlusconi, and asked 'who is this man?', she responded "Silvio Berlusconi, a politician, owner of TV stations and very rich"*.

It may be that at the back of her mind, like all Italians, a part of her recognised all the good works that Berlusconi has done for his countrymen (changing media legislation to, coincidentally, favour his own media network, lessening penalties for false accounting etc.). Or it could be a vivid testimony to the power of TV images. Berlusconi is one of, if not the, most broadcast faces on Italian TV. Programmes in favour of him broadcast his smiling face. Programmes critical of him broadcast his arrogant smile. His face is colonising the back of your mind each time you turn on the TV.

Perhaps it's a work of charity driving the Italian premier to reintroduce electoral advertisement, currently banned by strict regulations on political party broadcasting. After all, should one suffer a stroke like patient V.Z., isn't it good to have at least one point of reference while recovering?

Berlusconi is not only Italy's richest man (ads need to be bought and paid for), but he also owns Publitalia, Italy's biggest advertising agency - which buys and sells ad space on Mediaset, Berlusconi's media network. In effect, then, should the change of rules come into effect, the opposition parties would have to pay Berlusconi and his various agencies to broadcast ads competing against him.

Who said conflict of interest...

*Thus proving that there is no similarity between Berluska and Mussolini, despite the suggestions by left-wing propagandists. She couldn't recognise either Hitler or Mussolini!

Just like shooting...

Translation is never easy. There are so many words and expressions in any given language that reflect something peculiar to its culture, that finding an equivalent in a different tongue becomes nigh on impossibile.

Sometimes, though, one finds an expression whose sense is obvious, but which must be modified for local norms.

Translating an article on Viva Zapatero! (for the upcoming edition of Three Monkeys Online), the anti-censorship documentary by Sabina Guzzanti, I came across the following: "La critica a Berlusconi sarebbe stata troppo scontata, anche perché a questo punto sarebbe forse troppo semplice …una sparatoria contro l’ambulanza!"

Holy God! Criticism, Berlusconi, shooting at an ambulance [una sparatoria contro l'ambulanza!] - the pulse quickened.

In effect, though, the translation is
"Criticism of Berlusconi would have been too predictable, and perhaps to easy … like shooting fish in a barrel!"

It's a funny auld thing, language. You want to say 'nothing could be easier', and you end up shooting at entrapped fish and emergency services.

On a related theme, Napoli recently carried out an anti-terrorism exercise, testing the readiness of the city's emergency services in the case of a terrorist attack. As with previous drills carried out in Milan and Rome, the exercise was hyper-realistic with fires and smoke being created and with actors playing the horrificly injured.

During the exercise five people were injured when two ambulances collided.

How do you translate 'food for thought'?

Political Assassination in Calabria

Last week, armed terrorists have shot and killed the vice president of the Calabrian regional authority, Francesco Fortuno while he voted in the left-wing primary elections (16/10/05).

Strangely, you might think, terror obsessed prime minister Silvio Berlusconi remained conspicuously absent from the list of politicians expressing condolences and solidarity with Fortugno's widow. The terrorists in question, though, were of a home grown variety - the Calabrian 'ndragheta (and their target, a left-wing politician).

Is it too cynical to imagine that had a similar attack been staged by Muslim extremists, that the government's reaction might have been more strident (Interior Minister Pisanu has ordered a blitz on the 'ndrangheta - the very least one could do).

The anti-mafia commission, as politician Giuseppe Lumia pointed out, has been warning about the danger of the 'ndrangheta for over a year, but high profile murders seem to be needed before concrete measures are taken.

Meanwhile, a leading magistrate, investigating the whereabouts of current mafia boss Bernardo Provenzano, shocked the country with common knowledge. Provenzano, he remarked, has been protected not solely by "a criminal organisation, but also by an entire section of society"[1], including politicians, doctors, and businessmen.

Provenzano, who took over the mafia after the arrest of Toto Rina (who himself roamed Sicily freely for years while being the most wanted man in Italy), has rarely been sighted but yet managed to travel unimpeded from Sicily, through the Italian peninsula, to Marseilles in France, where he underwent a routine operation. The operation was carried out under false documentation, and charged to the regional health board of Palermo.

Italy is under attack by terrorists seeking to undermine a fragile democracy, but they ain't called Al-Qaeda so don't expect much to be done.

Rock Politik - Adriano Celentano and freedom of the press

Imagine, if you will, a variety show with a hefty dose of political and social commentary, satire and rock bands, all hosted by an ageing singer/actor who is as close to being a national institution as one gets, unless you happen to be Sophia Loren or the Pope. Hardly innovative programming, but yet the new Adriano Celentano variety show, Rock Politik has been the main talking point for many this week.

In the weeks leading up to last Thursday's debut show the national broadcaster RAI has been bombarding us with manga style cartoons depicting Celentano as a mysterious figure ready to save the innocents in an apocalyptic world, and all with the aid of a fender stratocaster. "The mind boggles," this monkey groaned to himself, swearing to banish Italian TV, once and for all, from his life.

Then, with days to go to the first show, the Director of RAI 1, Fabrizio Del Noce (who ran for Berlusconi's then nascent party Forza Italia in 1994) declared that, as Celentano had been given an unprecedented autonomy for his show by RAI's board of governors, he, as Direcor of the network, would have to absolve himself from all responsibility from the show.
Things could be getting interesting, this monkey thought, filing away his TV ban for future consideration.

The show, truth be told, was poor on virtually every level. Then again, I have a personal phobia of TV hosts that discuss serious issues one moment, and then get up and do a song and dance, literally. Perhaps it's a cultural thing, alongside Opera. The one saving grace that Celentano's programme had was that it aired, on the most mainstream public network, arguments that are scarcely considered. Celentano read through the listings from Freedom House's report on Press Freedom, where Italy is ranked #77 (between Bulgaria and Mongolia) in the world, with a status of 'partly free'.

This shouldn't be news to anyone, having been widely reported in the newspapers, but the sun always shines on TV and news like this is generally ghettoised to reports on RAI 3, a channel with more than its fair share of left-wing commentators.

The faces of Enzo Biagi and Daniele Luttazzi were beamed onto a big screen in the studio, along with their courteous but firm refusals to appear on Celentano's programme. Biagi in particular was a popular journalist and TV host, who Berlusconi famously accused of "criminally" misusing his position as a public broadcaster. Shortly after Berlusconi's pronouncement in April of 2002, Biagi received by return post his marching orders from the National Broadcaster. His 'crime'? To have hosted a show, watched by millions, where he and actor/comedian/future Oscar winner Roberto Benigni discussed conflicts of interest and Berlusconi (amongst other things). In his refusal to appear on Rock Politik, Biagi pointed out that while the management structure in RAI that had fired him remained, he could not in conscience appear on the network.

The next day, predictably the politicians all had to have their say. Berlusconi, slyly pointed out that the very fact that Celentano could go on the national network and talk about the journalists that he (Berlusconi) had effectively banished from TV, proved that Italy has a remarkably free and open media. His colleagues in Alleanza Nazionale, though, called for resignations of the head of RAI and a programme to balance all the nasty things that had been said. Del Noce labelled the programme "left-wing", though in truth, in the tradition of all good satire, the programme tarred and feathered politicians from across the spectrum. The centre left parties all beamed about the show, although one suspects that many egos were bruised by some of the wise-cracks made at their expense.

The media situation in Italy is much discussed, and, unfortunately often over-simplified. Certainly, currently Berlusconi holds unprecedented control over the media, and should he consider it politically profitable could have Celentano's programme cancelled in the morning.

But will Italy's ratings shoot up in the freedom of the press ranks should Romano Prodi win next year's election? A couple of places perhaps, but Italy is unlikely to be termed the Finland of the south any time soon, even in a post-Berluska era.

Why? Because the tradition of political appointment and interference in the media did not start when Silvio arrived on the scene. For decades the political establishment has divvied up spheres of influence on the national broadcaster as a divine right. Sadly, for many in the political establishment, when they whinge about Berlusconi's control of the media, what they're really complaining about is his unfair share of control of the media, not the control issue in itself.

The Days of Abandonment

The Days of Abandonment, or I giorni dell'abbandono, while being the title of a captivating, strange and disconcerting novel by Elena Ferrante (soon to be reviewed in Three Moneys Online), is also an apt description for The View from Bologna of late.

It's not that things have been uneventful in this part of the world. Far from it. Recent weeks have seen news from the world of high finance (Parmalat and Banca Italia both worth a mention), politics (efforts by the government to change the electoral system mere months away from an election), and culture (there's a crop of outstanding movies, books, records released in recent weeks).

On top of all, that the continuing tension between the sacred and the secular is worth a mention. The Church has been far from quiet in recent weeks, pronouncing on political support for PACS (Patto Civile di Solidarietà - a contract, similar to marriage, between consenting adults) as being anti-family. Abortion, in particular in the form of the pill RU-486, which recently had clinical trials in Italy suspended by health minister Storace, is back in the news and looks set to be an election issue.

In Milan a prominent Islamic school, which taught solely in Arabic, has been shut down causing much debate over the rights and responsibilities of immigrants in Italy. Italian troops remain in Iraq, and terrorist attacks have been simulated spectacularly in both Rome and Milan (to be followed in other Italian cities over the coming months).

In short, much has been going on. It's not that this Monkey has had his eye off the ball. Perhaps, indeed, the break in transmission has been because too much has been going on.

All of the above events will be trickling through the opinionated filter of The View from Bologna over the coming days/weeks.

Over and out.