ROME LETTER:Roberto Saviano is a remarkable symbol of hope in the context of Italian organised crime
IT WAS what I can only call a revealing little “Holywood” moment. It happened last autumn on a warm October Saturday, when your correspondent covered a demonstration in the central Piazza del Popolo in Rome in defence of press freedom.
In the eyes of many, of course, this is a freedom that in Italy is threatened by the dominance exerted over public and private television channels by media magnate/Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi.
At one point, there was a surge in activity and movement at the edge of the jammed piazza. Clearly, someone important was arriving. Even more clearly, the arrival of this particular person seemed to generate a huge electric charge of approval and solidarity through what was, inevitably, a largely centre-left crowd.
As I got closer, I realised that the late arrival was none other than bestselling writer Roberto Saviano (30), author of Gomorra, a revealing, courageous and hugely successful portrayal of the inner workings of the Camorra, the Neapolitan Mafia. (The film of the same name was based on his book, which was published four years ago).
For many Italians, Saviano is a folk hero. As he made his police- escorted way to the podium (he has lived with an escort for the best part of the last four years following Camorra threats on his life), he was greeted with applause and cries of encouragement.
For many, he is a remarkable symbol of hope in the context of an Italian organised crime reality which often engenders only deep pessimism.
Remember that Italy is a country where organised crime remains big business.
Saviano estimates that organised crime currently accrues an annual €100 billion profit from activities such as drug dealing, arms trafficking, racketeering, the building industry and the manipulation of a whole range of public contracts, especially in southern Italy.
In parliament last October, interior minister Roberto Maroni reported that the Calabrian Mafia, the ’Ndrangheta, has an annual turnover of €45 billion, or 3 per cent of Italian gross domestic product (GDP), 60 per cent of which is based on international drug trafficking.
To understand what this means, it might be worth pointing out that Turin-based carmaker Fiat probably represents about 8 per cent of GDP. In other words, one of Italy’s four organised crime “movements” (the Cosa Nostra in Sicily, the Camorra in Campania and the Sacra Corona Unita in Puglia are the others) is almost half as big as the world’s sixth-biggest carmaker.
All of this is by way of introduction to the sense of outrage prompted by Berlusconi during a press conference on organised crime last week.
"The Italian Mafia is only the sixth biggest in the world," he said, "but in reality it is the best known thanks, above all, to all the promotion it received from eight TV series of La Piovra (The Octopus), shown in 160 countries worldwide. And then you have books, too, like Gomorra. . . "
No sooner said than the inevitable protests began to flow.
Former investigating magistrate Antonio Di Pietro, leader of the Italy of Values (IDV) party, put it this way: “Berlusconi should apologise to Saviano who has risked his life with his writings and he should apologise to all those magistrates who, despite the Mafioso-style threats of the prime minister, still have the courage to defend a sense of the state and our national institutions.”
Italian and international writers were quick to speak out in defence of Saviano.
Salman Rushdie, a writer who knows a thing or two about living with a death threat over his head and who also knows Saviano, said: “I am flabbergasted. I believe the witness of Roberto to be a very courageous choice. The drama he lives out every day is very real, very oppressive and an intolerable weight for any human being.”
Italian writer Sebastiano Vassalli said that, were it not for the international success of his book and film, Saviano would most likely have been killed by the Mafia already, as were relatively unknown investigative journalists such as Giancarlo Siani in Naples (1985) and Peppino Impastato in Sicily (1978).
One final thought, highlighted by many commentators, is particularly intriguing.
Was it merely a coincidence that the prime minister made his remarks on the very day that, during an appeals trial in Palermo, a magistrate had asked for an 11-year sentence for “Mafia collusion” for senator and long-time Berlusconi aide Marcello Dell’Utri (already sentenced to 9½ years)?