INDIA ON MY MIND

Rome. August 20. 2012

 A reminiscence of India’s independence

On August 15, India celebrated  the sixty-fifth anniversary of its independence. Much has been  written about India  both in current and historical terms, but I feel  I would like to add my comment as one who actually was there in 1947, for I was born and went to school in Lahore (then  in British India), and spent the first ten years of my life in Afghanistan with frequent  trips  across the Khyber Pass.

 In the dark pre-dawn hours of a cold  February morning of 1947,  a large American military truck picked my family up in Kabul for the first leg of an epochal move, back to Europe (the first time for me) after the World War.

I, of course, was both thrilled and awed, for this meant  goodbye forever to those mountains which had towered over me all my life. It is strange that, since then, I have had the chance to say “goodbye forever” to those same mountains  on two further occasions (1973 and 2007).

But, essentially I was thrilled, because I had always dreamt of riding in a Jeep and I had  developed an inordinate admiration for the Americans also perhaps due, I can’t say in what measure, to the Head of Mission’s daughter – an “older woman” to me: she must have been  perhaps eighteen – who, when she walked,  wiggled a part of her anatomy which I hadn’t known, till then, could be wiggled at all. I was riveted  by the spectacle. Perhaps it was my first glimpse of “the American Dream”.

The voyage had just begun and, in Peshawar, then a pleasant frontier town, I had learned the  astounding fact: that the sign “The Management reserves the right of admission” on the hotel restaurant door was the  indirect, typically hypocritical English way of saying “no Indians”. I had not yet read E.M. Forster, but this was really “A Passage to India” in the flesh.

There was a long – three or four day – train journey ahead, to reach Bombay, either by the “Frontier Mail”, my favourite, or the “Bombay  Express” which, to me, sounded like a sissy name. Of course, with my luck, we ended up taking the latter.

Indian trains then were probably built on a nineteenth century model, or, perhaps, had been designed specifically for the Empire. Each compartment was separate, with no communicating  corridor, and with  doors giving directly to the platform. There were compartments reserved for women  and others of varying size, some   “public”, others “private”.

Ours was a family size compartment, rather large, with two sofa-beds. two upper berth bunks, a bathroom, and a sort of  living space with a table and some chairs, all firmly riveted to the floor. A totally ineffectual fan flapped lazily from the ceiling.

The organisation was incredible: as the train approached a particular station, towards dinner-time, my parents  would “dress for dinner” (i.e. black tie  and evening dress), and. when the train stopped, they would  disembark to go to the restaurant car. They were immediately replaced by a kindly,  “Aja”, an Indian nanny, who also brought a tray of food for the children – no curries, only delicious dhal – made the beds and sat with us until the next station, when the diners would return and she would depart with the empty dishes.

We have forgotten that trains, in those days, really did go “clickety-clack”, that  there was a constant swaying motion and that the passage over railway points would shake passengers to the bone: I loved all this, because it made me feel the joy of  speed (who knows? Maybe even 50 mph!) and certainly did not disturb my sleep.

Even to a child. it was obvious that my parents felt apprehension at travelling through Punjab, which had been the scene of rioting and mass killings, especially at the  Amritsar railway station,  through which we were due to pass. Tensions were still manifestly high at the station and the train was  practically  assaulted by  panic-stricken Hindu families, who obviously wanted  to get as far away as possible from the future Pakistan (Identical scenes, albeit in reverse, were taking place with trains going towards the North West). Such was the haste of these families that, right in front of  our compartment window, a milk bottle fell out of a bundle and cracked, spilling the contents on the platform. The scene that followed disturbed me greatly, and still does,  sixty-five years on.  When all had boarded, the doors had clanged shut and the train was beginning to move on, I saw  an “Untouchable” – a “Sweeper” – who approached the pool of white milk on the black platform floor, and with his bare hands scooped up what he could into an  old  tin, I suppose to help feed the family.

India has always been close to me, and I already realised then that  this was an entire world and not a “country” or a “state”. It took me a while to assimilate the fact of “partition”, because,  in earlier years, “my” India had been  the Punjab, between Amritsar and Lahore, very close geographically, but now separated by an international border.

The social and political tension and the constant  threat of  sudden violence  were evident even to me, a child of ten, and yet when  the British troopship to which we had been assigned left the port of Bombay,  I really felt pain at the idea of leaving, not knowing, of course, that I would be back in  times which were more tranquil, in spite of the Indo-Pakistan war  of 1971.

ALL EYES ON GREECE AND SPAIN, BUT IS ITALY THE REAL "SICK MAN OF EUROPE"?

Rome, August 8, 2012

In the course of this long, hot, and  extremely tense summer,  pessimism and hopelessness are gaining momentum on the Italian political scene, as the electorate’s honeymoon –  at times encouraging, but never easy – with Professor Monti’s  “Technical Government” appears to be coming to a premature and largely disappointing end.

Europeans,  and Italians are no exception, often appear as  unwitting victims of their history. In Italy, political chaos has been a constant reality from the early years of the Holy Roman Empire to this day, and the trend shows no sign of abating.

 From the  Teutonic  Caesars down to Mussolini and the post-war Italian governments, many of those whose ambition it was to govern the Italian people came to the conclusion that the task was impossible, or as Mussolini himself allegedly said, “useless”.

When Mario Monti took over as Prime Minister in November of last year, the situation appeared  absolutely desperate. A corrupt and inefficient Government had been unable – some  actually thought “unwilling” – to face the immense tasks which appeared essential to bring Italy back on track, and  it was forced to resign after some  extremely deft manoeuvring on the part of the President of the Republic, Giorgio Napolitano. For a while, the illusion was created that the “Technical Government”, having, figuratively speaking, bludgeoned the main  political parties into  acquiescence, would actually achieve  its very ambitious but essential goals. The inescapably entropic nature of the Italian political process however soon emerged, and, at this stage, although the  parties  forming the massive majority supporting the Government keep swearing  formidable oaths of loyalty, it is clear that all the leaders, even as they  speak in solemn tones about the need for stability, are, in reality, nudging and winking at one another, in a desperate attempt to emerge from this experience with the least possible damage.

Professor Monti and his Government are not tied to specific political interests and, therefore,  appear to have  a greater freedom of choice in the implementation of unpopular programmes. The same, however, cannot be said of the three major  parties who have given their support to the government, and without  the consent of which measures could not be turned into laws. In recent weeks  the feeling has taken hold that this  experimental government is being caught up in the traditional Italian political quagmire, and that even the public  behaviour of the Prime Minister, considered blameless until now, is adapting to the devious tactics practiced by  his predecessors. On their part, the political parties  who support his government are giving signs of  nervousness and seem to be returning to their  traditional, negative  habits, neglecting to take  into account the growing ill-feeling and mistrust of  large sectors of Italian opinion. .

It would be tedious, and of no immediate interest, to enumerate or attempt to describe the various phases of  rising  disillusionment on the part of the Italian electorate, or the sometimes farcical, often irresponsible posturing of the parties. It has to be said, however, to their partial exculpation, that they are facing epochal problems of survival  in the presence of  a growingly indifferent, sceptical and critical public.

It is  amazing that, in a country which  until recently considered an 80% turnout at elections as disappointing, reliable polls show that about 35% of the electorate  appear inclined not to vote at all, while about 20% are divided between those who are “undecided” or who state that they will cast a blank or invalid ballot. Even the announced return of Mr. Berlusconi on the political scene has caused scarcely a ripple in the  opinion polls, and this could indicate that  he might be losing what was left of  that peculiar charisma which allowed him to remain in power for the best part of the past twenty years.

The parties  who support the Government, having formed what people call “The Odd Majority”, face a truly fundamental dilemma. As the Government is forced to  adopt  measures  which meet growing hostility on the part of the general public, they sense  a further decline in their popularity, and  feel a restless urge to put an end to this anomalous situation, withdraw their support to the Government, and  force the President to call early elections, to  be held, possibly, in early November. A growing number of influential  political figures are urging their respective parties in this sense, because they feel that the passage of time operates in favour of the more populist opposition groups or movements, who would present themselves to the electorate untainted, as it were, by the Government’s unpopular  decisions.

The situation, however, is complicated by the state of disarray  which has devastated  the  majority party, led by former Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi, and which, according to recent polls, would  have difficulty reaching  20% of the vote. The opposition Democratic Party, though in a more favourable position, has to cope with a number of problems, some of which  appear of a subtlety so Machiavellian to leave even  the best informed political analysts quite visibly puzzled . Nor can the traditional rivalry  between its  Catholic and secular  components be ignored, and the Catholics  at times  seem ready to abandon ship and join the Centrist party which, although small, is in a King-making position and  is forging ever closer ties with the Catholic Church.

 The better known leaders, on all sides of the spectrum, keep appearing, albeit more subdued than  before, on the innumerable television “talk-shows” which, in earlier days, were their favourite stage from which to propound their ideas. They, however, have quite obviously lost a great deal of their bluster and don’t  go much beyond reaffirming their “full confidence” in the wisdom of the electorate. What will happen is anybody’s guess, also because all the parties vow that they will remain loyal to the Government until next Spring and that, in any case, the present electoral Law is unsatisfactory and needs to be changed. Fears prevail, however,  that either the Law will not be altered (for, in reality, it suits those very leaders who claim that it needs to be changed), or that it will be modified into something even worse, designed to  handicap those opposition  parties which are the sole beneficiaries from this intricate state of affairs.

The Month of August will be decisive, and much will depend on the  direction taken by the International financial and economic crisis. In the present circumstances, however, the future does not bode well for Italy, and even the close ties  forged between Monti and the German political leadership seem to be weakening, thus leaving him in a dangerously isolated position.

Most of the responsible commentators seem to agree that  elections held before the end of the Government’s mandate would probably have a disastrous effect, but there are signs that this solution may well  turn out to be inevitable.

The politicians, meanwhile, keep playing their old games, in the style of the traditional Italian “Commedia dell’Arte”, bashing one another with large clubs, only to emerge smiling and pose for group photographs. They appear, however, to be only dimly aware that they are playing to a thinning house.  Many feel that, as the clown Canio exclaims at the closing of Leoncavallo’s Opera “I Pagliacci”, for them, at least, “La commedia è finita” (The show is over).

Carlo Ungaro

The Author of this submission is a retired Italian Diplomatic Officer

VATICAN SCANDALS

Rome, June 12 2012

Vatican Scandals: a never-ending story

International events move fast, and it is difficult for public attention to remain fixed on a particular event, no matter how grave or dramatic. And yet the recent Vatican Saga, a not unfamiliar story of corruption, scandal, potential violence and political infighting does deserve a closer look, if nothing else for its  possible developments.

Thanks to centuries of experience, the people of Rome have developed tremendous insight – a veritable sixth sense – in guessing, ahead of time, when  there is trouble brewing on the  right bank of the Tiber, under the massive dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. The Holy See is usually able to control its image with the Italian public, thanks mainly to an extremely  respectful and  obsequious .media and press, as witnessed, for example  by the limited  publicity  the paedophilia scandal had in Italy even when it was front-page news elsewhere.

Events of the past few weeks, however, have shocked even the jaded and usually lethargic Roman public, and could indicate the existence of a  crisis situation in the Vatican with  many possible  future scenarios , which risks tarnishing the Vatican’s image, even in Italy.

The arrest of the Pope’s closest  lay collaborator (the Pope’s “Butler”, part of the official “family”), barely twenty-four hours after the abrupt dismissal of a respected Italian banker, who had been personally called upon by the Pope to  lend transparency and respectability to the “I.O.R.” (Istituto per le Opere Religiose – Institute  for Religious Operations), in a certain sense the Vatican’s Central Bank,  were, in themselves,  episodes dramatic enough to cause comment and unease. These events appeared even more remarkable because they occurred in the wake of the exhumation of the remains of a well known outlaw, who, some three decades ago,  had terrorised Rome as leader of the “Banda della Magliana” and who for  unexplained reasons was buried in a crypt in one of the  holiest  of the many Roman churches, and, therefore, in Vatican territory. It was rumoured that the exhumation could also shed light on another of the Vatican’s grim mysteries: the unsolved disappearance, in 1983, of e teen age girl, Emanuela Orlandi, daughter of a high Vatican official. To top all this off, a book has been published – becoming  an instant bestseller in Italy – which contains  the certified text of correspondence – often rancorous – among the Cardinals, and even some letters from the Pope himself. The arrest of the “Pope’s Butler” is connected to this event, even though  doubts are being expressed as to whether  he is actually being used as a scapegoat or whether others, including high ranking Church figures, have also been involved in the leaks.

 In discussing Vatican affairs it is always difficult to resist the temptation of delving deep into the past.  The roots of these recent  troublesome happenings, however, have to be traced back   over three decades, to the unexpected death of Pope John Paul I, in the winter of 1978, after one of the briefest pontificates in history (33 days).

This event, which in the public imagination is strongly  connected to the violent, and as yet mysterious  deaths, in the ensuing years, of two Italian bankers (Roberto Calvi in 1982  and Michele  Sindona in 1986) who were very close to Vatican finances has left its mark, to the point that,  in the public media, even some eminent “Vaticanists” have gone as far as expressing concern about the very survival and physical well-being of the two  figures concerned, as well as of the Pope himself, who could  be the target rather than the mover of this latest unrest  in that most secretive and reclusive State.

This last in a series of  scandals involving the Vatican and its financial institution, not rarely accused of hiding  money-laundering operations, raises  some legitimate questions on the  possible resignation of Benedict XVI (the last Pope to resign was Celestine V, in 1294) or other  likely upheavals in a  stagnant regime  which has been distancing itself from  the Roman Catholic faithful, especially outside of Italy.

In reality the Pope’s advanced age and failing health would probably make his resignation unnecessary, and all these recent events within the Vatican are  actually  tied in with a forthcoming Conclave, from which the next Pope will emerge. A fierce “electoral”  battle is going on, which will become  more and more vicious as the time approaches. The choice is severe: the Cardinals may bow to the weight of  authority carried by the present, mainly Italian, curia and choose to prolong the  highly conservative conduct of Vatican Affairs, or they could take as brave a step as their predecessors did in 1978 and opt for a more modern Church, for the implementation of basic decisions taken in the Ecumenical Council, Vatican II, and, above all, for  the choice of transparency (a Vatican version of “glasnost”) not only  in financial matters, but also in an attempt to  dispel  doubts and rumours about  the  closely interconnected “mysterious” happenings  mentioned  above (to which more can be added).

To all Vatican observers, it is evident that a battle has been engaged between the ageing, weakened Pope (who, unlike his predecessor, does not  arouse  much affection or loyalty), and his long time Secretary of State, Cardinal Bertone, who, in the eyes of the “progressives” embodies all the  potentially sinister and certainly negative traits of the more traditionalist, and mainly Italian, sector of the Curia.

The Holy See, by concentrating its attentions either on internal problems, such as the current power-struggle, or on increasingly abstruse and old-fashioned theological issues, as witnessed by the recent condemnation of American nuns, accused of being “modern” and “feminist” is  rapidly widening  the gap between  the Vatican and the active  Roman Catholic Church. This problem is visible even in Italy, where, for example, the numerous Catholic run Hospitals, Clinics and Sanatoriums are unable to find a sufficient number of nuns for their nursing staff, and are therefore  obliged to turn to professional paramedic personnel. It has also been pointed out that the waning number of young men  who  apply for the priesthood seem to be animated more by a sense of  entering upon a “career” than by true vocation to serve. In Spain the vocational crisis has induced the Bishops Conference to  emit publicity spots  on radio and television in the hope of attracting  some of the  very numerous unemployed young men, by offering  jobs which, though poorly paid, offer a guarantee of stability.

The Roman Catholic Church, as a confessional institution, is in no immediate danger, but the  Vatican power-structure seems at the risk of crumbling and becoming more and more fatuous as the years go by.

In this sense, therefore, the current spate of Vatican scandals deserves  careful analysis, if any sense has to be made out of a jumble of seemingly unrelated events.

According to the much quoted – and  not rarely accurate – prophecies of  the twelfth century Archbishop Malachi of Armagh (Ireland), the next Pope should be the last one, but this is an extreme consequence which seems most unlikely ……

Carlo Ungaro

(The author of this submission is a retired former senior Italian diplomatic officer)

Rome, August 14, 2012 The Gods on Mount Olympus – Rome 1960 to London 2012 The Gods on Mount Olympus have been smiling on us over these past two weeks. For me they began smiling over half a century ago, in that distant summer of 1960, when the Olympic games were held in Rome. At the time Italy, no longer the basket case it had been presented as in the immediate post-war years, was beginning to emerge as a political and economic power in the Democratic world. There is little doubt that the Rome Olympics were instrumental in hastening this process, sometimes known as the “Italian Miracle”. I don’t know at what point in their modern history the Olympic games took on the almost frightening dimensions they have today, but the Olympics of my childhood and youth (London, Helsinki, Melbourne) were boy scout jamborees by comparison, encouraging an extremely low-cost and carefree public participation to the events. Some of the personalities who emerged from the Rome games – I’m thinking of Cassius Clay (Muhammad Ali), the late Wilma Rudolph, the Eritrean athlete, Abebe Bikila who won the Marathon running barefoot, and, of course, others – were amazing phenomena to the Roman public, who adopted them almost as family members, and talked about them for years to come. In those days Rome – yes the Rome of Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” – was more of a village than a city, and even if few families had Television sets, news of Italian victories (I’m particularly thinking of the Water Polo team’s triumph) were known before being officially announced because the roar of the jubilant crowd was audible all across the town. This, of course, was made possible by the fact that Italians do have what could be called a carrying voice.. In 1960, just as in 2012, the games were preceded by dire predictions of disaster, while learned and influential sports writers (almost exclusively British and American), having openly cast doubts on the ability of the Italians, generally viewed as despicable, or, at best, hapless and inefficient to organize such an important event, then proceeded gleefully to pounce upon any perceived organisational mishap, which, with an extraordinary lack of imagination, would more than once be compared to “tangled Spaghetti”. The “dire predictions” ( here the American press bore greater responsibility than the British) consisted mainly in the absolute certitude that the Italian Communists, who then had over 30% of the popular vote, would manipulate events, through strikes and public unrest, to create total, unmanageable chaos, perhaps violence. This was a totally unrealistic assessment, owing more to prejudice than to judgement, since the Soviet Union, who controlled the Italian Communist Party, really wanted to participate in the Olympic games and win as many medals as possible, sometimes through means which, today, would certainly raise eyebrows. It has to be recalled that at that time the Soviet Union seemed on the ascendant, even ahead of its American rivals in the Space Race, with Gagarin’s historic flight only a few months in the future. There was, therefore, no social or political unrest, even though Italian governments (as was usual in those halcyon days) kept falling and being formed all over again, arousing new, unfounded, fears of “political instability”. The desire, for the Communists, to appear as “good guys” was such that even the two Germanys, Federal Republic and Democratic Republic, presented a unified team, and one of their protagonists, Armin Hary, won the 100 metre sprint to great acclaim, failing, however, in his attempt to beat the 10 second barrier. He still became one of the heroes and was greatly admired by the public. Some things are difficult to say without appearing to be levelling totally unfounded accusations to the present-day organisers, but the last Olympics to be held before World War Two were hosted by National Socialist Germany. The desire to think big, to astound the populace and the world at large was one of the trademarks of this event, and that is perhaps why the succeeding, post-war, versions were held in much lower key. The need to astonish and overwhelm the public has however, returned and will certainly shape the Olympic games of the future, perhaps even leading some of the Host countries to bankruptcy (as, apparently, happened to Greece in 2004). I don’t think that Heracles and his peers on Mount Olympus could really recognize themselves in these gigantic, sponsor driven, media fests. Perhaps, instead, they felt more relaxed and appreciative as they – the creators of the Olympic idea – watched a bare-foot Eritrean run to victory in the Rome Marathon.