J and G: Date with Berlusconi

12 July 2007

I noticed the posters about ten days ago. Silvio Berlusconi was coming to Naples. As the date drew closer, it seemed as though the city was awash with the distinct blue bills adorning every flat surface, crumbling walls, abandoned buildings and most appropriately rubbish bins. Having caught my attention I decided that I should satisfy my curiosity and go along.

I’ve never attended a political rally before, not that the circus surrounding Silvio Berlusconi could ever be considered simply a political rally. I mentioned my interest in attending to a few Italian friends and students. Their reactions were both strong and surprising, and sometimes dismissive. It seemed shocking to some that I would waste my time on such an event. Ironically, I find it shocking that people dismiss Berlusconi so quickly when it seems to me that he’s done a surprising amount of damage to this country and its economy, usually to his personal gain.

I decided to catch the bus to Piazza Carita’ (ironically it translates to Charity Square) and then walk to Piazza del Plebiscito (People’s Square…how much can you take?). I waited half an hour for a bus, watching with interest at the traffic jammed up on the opposite side of the road while the other lanes were mostly clear. A wailing fire truck wove painfully through the traffic jam, the fire fighters nonchalantly sitting in the cabin looking out on fools in their cars who failed to consider an emergency services vehicle of much significance. Although, when it’s their house burning down they’ll surely be complaining loudly about the fire trucks slow response time. My guess was that buses coming in our direction were held up behind an accident or a protest (industrial rubbish bins occasionally are moved onto the road and set alight). The fire truck was probably on its way to the scene.

I arrived half an hour after the advertised starting time, half-afraid that I’d missed the main event. At 7.30pm in July it’s still beautifully bright, the harshness of the sun has faded, the evening air perfect. The piazza was, as always, stunning, although its beauty was marred by the staging, scaffolding and eyesore of a media and production booth. The piazza was awash with people, waving ‘Forza Italia’ flags and clutching propaganda leaflets and booklets. Ambulances were dotted around the piazza on standby. The adjacent piazza and streets were occupied by Carabinieri police and security guards. Most of them looked disinterested, holding their weapons lazily, huddling in small groups chatting.

‘Forza Italia’ (taken from a football chant, literally ‘Go Italy’) is the name of the right-wing political party founded by Berlusconi in 1993. Many critics believe that Berlusconi entered the political arena to protect his television and ever burgeoning business interests. Over the years he’s been charged with and convicted of a number of crimes including corruption, bribes and /tax evasion. The onerously slow Italian judicial system, legal technicalities, Berlusconi inspired legislation amendments and politically friendly judges have seen him effectively disentangle himself from his legal problems, and to this date he hasn’t served any jail time.

I don’t know about you, but it all clearly adds up to Berlusconi being one of Italy’s most successful, public and famous criminals. Who would want to miss seeing such a man in the flesh?

A blonde woman appeared on the huge stage, and the crowd cheered with anticipation. However, it would be another 1 ½ hours before the man himself appeared. Four singers took the stage one after another, with a constant purge of music that must have been intended to hype up the energy and excitement. Classics such as ‘I Will Survive’ and ‘Come Fly with Me’ echoed around the piazza, making me cringe. These were then followed by Neapolitan classics, each song carefully chosen for its subversive message.

I decided to join the well-wishers crammed in along the barricades for the motorcade that would deliver Silvio to the stage. Everyone around me was genuinely excited to be there, up on tip toes craning their necks for the first glimpse of him. Countless nobodies strutted up the centre, ID tags swinging, intermittently stopping to greet someone on the crowd who recognised them. One woman in a floaty, sparkly black dress, with full war paint and fake coiffed blonde hair, obviously aimed for an elegant appearance only to have it destroyed by a broken red strappy shoe that she was carrying as she limped along the cobblestones.

Just before 9pm, the security guards suddenly took their places and the motley marching band buttoned their jackets and lifted their instruments. Three perfectly polished luxury cars sped through the barricades, the centre one pulling up right in front of where I was standing. Silvio and his wife exited the vehicle to the screams of the women standing near by. No sooner had we glimpsed his beaming smile then he was swamped by bodyguards and staff.

Moments later, he appeared on stage behind the lectern, with his perfect smile, deep tan, surgically enhanced face and medically assisted head of black hair flashing up on the immense screen nearby. For a man of 71 years he looks extraordinary. It’s amazing what you can buy with enough money. Youthful looks and expensive suits are certainly within Mr Berlusconi’s budget.

With the piazza now full, the crowd greeted him like a long lost uncle. Flags, signs, banners and balloons helped represent their emotions with colour and movement. All the major television networks and newspapers were capturing the event and I watched it the following day on the small screen.

Obviously pleased with the welcome, Silvio spent the next hour preaching and spouting rhetoric. He buttered up the locals by praising their excellent coffee, wonderful music and beautiful women. Much of his speech criticised his major political opponent, current Prime Minister Prodi, and the communist extreme left party. In standard format, he asked the crowd a number of questions emphasising the problems that had been delivered by Signor Prodi and they obediently responded with hearty ‘No’s’. His list of promises elicited the obvious ‘Yes’ chants.

Most interestingly though was his summary of the state of Naples and the province of Campania. Neapolitans and Campanians are suffering from a number of emergencies. There is a rubbish crisis, a crisis in the health system, a traffic crisis, a crime crisis and a humanitarian crisis. That pretty much sums it up. There was no direct mention of the legal system, the Camorra (the local organised crime network), unemployment, the education system or the differences between the state of the north and the south in terms of investment, wealth, public infrastructure, corruption, the aging population and the lack of economy growth. Nor were there any solutions forthcoming.

Dusk had fallen. The bright stage lights emphasized the blue banners and Silvio’s tan. The rhetoric finally ran out and then the formal presentations began. A long line of ‘Forza Italia’ candidates dawdled onto the stage, some looking dazed and uncomfortable and others like they’d been born on stage. Women in the crowd around me continued to call out "Che bello Silvio" (how handsome, Silvio). Groups of men cheered and yelled with excitement. I stood amongst the chaos, energy and worshipping wondering who these people were. And where were the people who disagreed with Berlusconi’s politics and activities?