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.

AFGHANISTAN - THE ULTIMATE TRAGEDY

Cassandra, we are told, felt no joy at predicting calamities. Reality, in Afghanistan, is proving to be worse than the most pessimistic predictions, and this is not a motive of satisfaction for those who foretold disaster. The recent, concerted attacks on Kabul itself indicate that this disaster could be even closer than was thought. It was in the winter of 2006 that many objective observers, some of them, such as myself, in Afghanistan, realised that the tide was turning, and that ultimate military “victory” had eluded the present occupiers, just as, in the past, it had eluded others. Even as late as the summer of 2007, there could perhaps still have been room for successful negotiation with the Taleban, who had not as yet shown signs of having as strong and widespread an organization as they have now. The NATO allies, however, chose enhanced – and ultimately unsuccessful - military action, without enunciating a clear and credible set of realistic war aims apart from the destruction of the enemy. Now that no alternatives appear to a policy of more or less decorous withdrawal, the immensity of the tragedy brought upon Afghanistan finally comes to light and the real risk is leaving the Afghan people in a situation far worse than at the time of the invasion. It is an undeniable fact that a great number of Afghans, particularly but not exclusively women, were relieved at the apparent end of the Taleban regime which, greeted at first with approval, had really brought civil society to its knees, annulling the undeniable progress which had taken place in the waning years of the Monarchy, In the short life of the “Socialist Republic” and even, with due reservations, during the Soviet occupation. A great number of Afghans, therefore, for the most part motivated by a genuine feeling of hope, freely chose to cooperate with the invading forces, thus actively participating – especially in Kabul, in the North and in the West of the country – in the rebuilding of their society. It was heartening to see adult women taking advantage of the newly obtained freedom in order to compensate for the years of deprivation by resuming the process of education, as, indeed, was the sight of schoolgirls, smartly attired in their uniforms, marching off to classes from which they had been banned by the preceding regime. It was also pleasantly instructive, in the Autumn of 2005, to follow, as a Monitor, the regional elections, in a rather far away and isolated post to the west of the country, near the Iranian border. No western military presence was requested and none was needed, for the electoral process took place in an atmosphere of quiet determination, with a large turnout, both male and female. To ask what went wrong, or where did we miss the opportunity of preventing disaster is as fatuous a question as the “Who Lost China” question was in the U.S.A. of the fifties and sixties. It is far more useful to attempt to analyse whether any options are left to prevent a massive retaliation upon the departure of the last NATO troops, for which only belated and far from encouraging preparations are being made. Once the Taleban return to power, there will be a very large number of Afghans – primarily, but not only, women – who will be left to pay a heavy price for their “collaboration with the enemy”, and this seems an almost inevitable legacy left by the hurried, unwise and poorly planned invasion of 2001. The military mission in Afghanistan is well beyond recovery, and any last effort by the NATO forces must concentrate on the safety of the civilians left behind. The Soviet Union faced a similar problem when they left, and, for a time, were able to protect the Najibullah government by controlling the skies from neighbouring Central Asian bases: this protection came to a violent end with the collapse of the Soviet Union, and Civil war ensued. At this stage, negotiations with the Taleban appear even more futile than before, and any promises made by them will almost certainly be broken as soon as they regain full control of the country. The solution found by the Soviet Union would be difficult because there is no neighbouring haven from which the Taleban’s activities could be controlled. Leaving a “friendly” government – either Karzai or another political figure – in control would be a very short-lived solution, and it is difficult to predict a positive outcome of the inevitable NATO withdrawal. The alternative, bleak though it may seem, appears to be between a strong Taleban-controlled government, it is to be hoped more moderate than the preceding one, or a renewal of the civil war which followed the Soviet withdrawal and came to an uncertain end only with the Taleban takeover. Afghan civil society faces tremendous hardships: it is difficult to imagine, for example, what will become of the numerous female NGO’s created over these past years, and which have undertaken a tremendous task of rehabilitation and reconstruction. Nor is it easy to think of all those Afghan civilians – men and women – who have been working,, steadfastly and loyally – with the ISAF civilian-military organizations (Provincial Reconstruction Teams, or PRT’s) scattered around the country. Their future looks bleak indeed, and there is little left except hope. But hope, in itself, is not usually creative.

Scenarios for Italy’s political future: a resurgent role for the Roman Catholic Church

Rome, April 26, 2012 Italy’s current struggle to overcome a crisis of proportions unprecedented in the post-war decades has stimulated considerable comment in the international media. Few have noted, however, that the principal beneficiary of the current social and political turmoil could well turn out to be the Roman Catholic Church, ever present in the Italian political scene, and whose influence is certainly destined to grow. Over the centuries, the Church has played a relevant, often violently divisive role in the destinies of the Italian Peninsula. This role, relatively subdued in the first years of Italy’s independence and even during the Fascist regime, emerged with renewed vigour in the post war years taking full advantage of apprehensions aroused by Communist takeovers in many Central European Countries. As a result, Catholic political figures dominated the Italian scene for well over two decades after the end of the War.. The dramatic demise of what has been inaccurately called Italy’s “First Republic” took place in the nineteen nineties, as the end of the “Cold War” coincided with the upheaval caused by a growing number of vigorous investigations of corruption on the part of the leading political parties. The Catholic oriented “Christian Democratic” party, which had participated in all the post-war Governments, leading most of them, was particularly exposed and, as a result, it imploded and ceased to exist, causing an authentic “Diaspora” of its leading figures towards either ignominious retirement or the many newly formed political groupings. If this ensured the political survival of many Catholic leaders, it did, however, weaken the presence of the Church, which no longer had a single and reliable interlocutor in the Italian Parliament or Government. In reality, however, even before that, ever since the mid - Seventies , the influence of the Church in Italy had already been waning and had suffered setbacks unimaginable only a few years earlier, particularly the resounding defeats in popular referenda on the controversial issues of divorce and abortion. Since then, the Church has had to struggle hard – with the help of much of the Italian political establishment and also the public radio and television outlets – to regain the position of moral and political supremacy to which it feels entitled. Recent events have unexpectedly reversed the negative trend and appear set to pave the way for the Vatican’s resurgence as a leading player on the Italian political scene. In mid-Autumn of last year, the economic and financial situation in Italy appeared to be reeling out of control, and signs of incipient political unrest led many to fear the country was heading for disaster. Professor Mario Monti, a respected and well-known personality with no political affiliation was then asked to form a “technical” government, composed exclusively of unelected personalities, also seen as a-political. Attention has since been focussed on Italy’s unusual situation, and on Professor Monti’s numerous accomplishments and occasional setbacks, while the growing symptoms of the strong, steadily waxing resurgence of the Roman Catholic Church as a political actor has gone virtually unnoticed. It is worth recalling that, with the appearance and electoral triumph of the populist Silvio Berlusconi in 1994, the Church had found itself in a quandary, and had reluctantly opted for support of Berlusconi – in spite of his rather sketchy claims to Catholic orthodoxy – in exchange for a growing number of legislative and monetary benefits. This rather cynical attitude – a form of “real-politick” not new to the Vatican – in the long run risked alienating the support of grass-roots Catholics, who grew restive at the apparent acquiescence of the Church and the Italian Bishops Conference at behaviour patterns which appeared to grow ever more blatant and unacceptable in the course of time. In the month of May of last year, Mr Berlusconi's party - along with practically all the other mainstream political parties – suffered unexpected and undeniable debacles both in local elections (Milan and Naples) and in the massive turnout of the Italian electorate at referenda which the Government had openly opposed. The disaster suffered by Berlusconi quite evidently persuaded the Church to modify its position, and it is interesting to notice how the lack of support from the Church ultimately brought about Mr. Berlusconi’s downfall, with key members of his party abandoning ship and drifting towards the political centre. Meanwhile, the persistent popular approval of the staunchly Catholic Professor Monti seemed to indicate the way forward, and to open the way for a Centrist gathering of political leaders whose positions are close to those preferred by the Church and the Bishops’ Conference. There is, at present, much confusion and uncertainty in Italy, particularly among the established political parties, which now seem to have reached an all-time low in the approval rating by the country’s electorate (apparently under 10%). This condition, somewhat astounding in the land which coined the expression “Partitocrazia”, has induced leading Catholic political figures, on the right and on the left, to converge towards the centre, thus ensuring a more dynamic, integrated and efficient presence of the Church on the political scene. In spite of the apparent calm, and the seemingly hapless bluster of the discredited political parties, Italy’s traditional volatility still endures and it is therefore difficult clearly to envisage future trends. It is improbable, however, that either Professor Monti or most of his government colleagues will be tempted to undertake a political career, even though present polls would encourage them in this prospect, and it therefore seems that, in 2013 (or, perhaps, earlier), the Italian electorate will be called upon to choose among the existing political parties and politicians. A new, openly “Christian” formation could well upset the balance and bring the Church back to the centre of Italian political life. Surprisingly, this process, which until recently seemed a relatively distant prospect, has already begun, even before the rather crucial local elections scheduled for the month of May. The leading, and highly influential, Catholic dominated centrist party (the “U.D.C.”, led by a darkly handsome political opportunist, Ferdinando Casini – one of the few capable politicians left in Italy) has announced its dissolution and an imminent change of name: a considerable group of Catholic Parliamentarians belonging to Berlusconi’s majority party have already publicly shown interest, while the other, minor, centrist groups seem to have been caught off balance and face little alternative to joining the new formation. This development, coupled with the existential crisis which has greatly weakened the xenophobic, even at times racist, Northern League has enhanced the political parties’ self confidence, and there are growing and persistent rumours of early elections, with the month of October set as a possible date. Whenever the next elections are held – they will be mandatory in the Spring of 2013 – this new formation will surely play a leading role, finally returning the Roman Catholic Church as a principal player on the Italian political scene. In the broader, international context, this will mean that Italy would even further distance itself from the growingly secular attitudes of most other European Union Countries, while much of the social progress, limited and slow as it may have been, achieved in the past decades will be the object of open attempts at abolition or, at least, revision. The prospect, endorsed by president Napolitano, of having a woman as the next Head of State would also drift further into the future since both of the two leading prospective female candidates are vehemently opposed by the Catholic Hierarchy. Grim as this prospect may appear, it would certainly be a development preferable to the opportunity which the existing political void could give to unscrupulous populist movements, aiming to prey upon the voters’ insecurity and anger.

The December 2011 Bonn Conference: A farewell to Afghanistan?

This article was published by "Open Democracy" in February 2012


In December 2001, just over ten years ago, allegedly in the “wake of rapid victory”, a much heralded International Conference on Afghanistan took place in Bonn, the actual, original “Small Town in Germany”. Its task consisted mainly of setting up a future road-map for that unfortunate Central Asian country torn by years of Foreign invasion and civil war. A “Democratic” constitution was drawn up, and many extremely sagacious decisions were taken, including the creation of an “International Security Assistance Force”, or “ISAF” to oversee and guide Afghanistan towards peace, stability and development, through a rather novel type of “Civilian-Military cooperation”, which, although perhaps well-intentioned, proved to be unwieldy and therefore only partially successful.. Some viewed this as an audacious leap into the future. Realists, however, preferred to think of it rather as a brave, perhaps utopian attempt to reset the Afghan calendar to a situation at least as promising as it appeared before the Soviet invasion of 1979.

At the time, even old Afghan hands who had been sceptical and apprehensive of the West’s military involvement in that difficult mountain state, traditionally inhospitable to foreign invaders, had greeted the Bonn Conference with relief and some optimism. After all – as president Bush himself solemnly assured us – the enemy was “on the run”, and the military problem in Afghanistan appeared to be practically solved, with only civilian reconstruction tasks remaining.

In the light of subsequent developments – after an initial period of moderately justified confidence – the Bonn Conference of last December 5 can be viewed only with profound scepticism and more than a touch of melancholia. Indeed, in spite of the forced note of official optimism, echoed by a waning number of the more obedient International Media, there are reasons to believe that this will most probably be the final curtain call for the West’s involvement in the very gloomy and apparently hopeless Afghan picture.

The aims of the 2011 Conference, although set out very clearly, aroused only tepid interest. Among scores of participants (85 States, plus the United Nations and 15 International Organizations) the absence of two – Pakistan and the Taliban – who would certainly have had an important role to play, further diminished the meeting’s credibility. The absence of Pakistan, who boycotted the conference because of a recent NATO air strike on its territory was certainly a blow , and note should be taken of the refusal of the Taliban to participate, even though, in reality, no invitation to them was ever extended.

The Conference, as expected, produced many high-toned documents and declarations on both the military and civilian future of Afghanistan: It was, however, evident that there was little connection between what was being stated in Bonn and the realities on the ground, both in terms of NATO’s military position and, even more blatantly, of the complicated process of transfer of civilian power to the Afghans.

It is an historical fact that military cooperation among allies is never easy, even when the war aims are clear and interests coincide (it is enough to remember the great problems besetting the Anglo-American alliance in the waning months of World War II, both in Italy and in Normandy). This was particularly noticeable in Afghanistan, since the early years of the NATO intervention. Apart from the United States, with their “Enduring Freedom” operation, a large number of European and NATO countries participated, some with sizeable contingents, others with a more symbolic presence. The “chain of command” was uncertain, and each military contingent kept to its own agenda and rules of engagement, thus favouring a state of confusion among the civilian populations and facilitating the penetration of insurgent forces. One of the important side-effects of the prolonged foreign military presence in Afghanistan was the birth and rapid burgeoning of terrorism, which had not existed before (the Taliban, however distasteful their policies may appear, were not a “terrorist” organization, and the early episodes of suicide attacks were perpetrated mainly by young Arabs or Pakistanis). The situation was certainly not helped by obvious uncertainty regarding the actual war aims of the NATO forces.


The original, exclusive, war aim put forward to justify the invasion of Afghanistan was to “get” Osama Bin Laden. This was achieved ten years later, in another country, with Bin Laden by then perhaps more of a symbolic figure than a real threat. An impressive subsequent string of alternative “war aims”, none of which either convincing or even partially successful, were subsequently presented to explain the need of a continued and growing Western presence in Afghanistan.

It is amazing, even appalling, to consider, today, that behind the theatrically arrogant sabre-rattling in the aftermath of 9/11, there apparently was only minimal political or strategic planning. Important and profound historical realities were apparently not taken into consideration before embarking on a military venture in an environment which had proved fatal to many invaders, including the British Empire and the Soviet Union.. Some of the most essential aspects, such as the inevitability and complexity of Pakistan’s involvement, were treated very superficially, perhaps even overlooked. When Richard Holbrooke, years later, tried to tackle the matter, events had already taken a definite turn for the worse and were probably beyond the control of either ISAF or the United States.

A potentially sinister and dangerous consequence of this has been the threat of the destabilization of Pakistan, all the more perilous because of Pakistan’s modern and well-equipped nuclear arsenal, which must absolutely not fall into the “wrong” hands.

One of the very first issues which ought to have been tackled, as soon as Pakistan’s involvement appeared inevitable, was the persistent border problem raised by the infamous 1894 “Durand Line”. No Afghan government has ever recognized this border, and also the local populations in Pakistan's North West Frontier area do not see it as a real barrier to their movements. For an appreciable amount of time the present conflict has had this porous, traditionally perilous border area as one of its focal points, but there is no evidence of the problem having been taken into serious consideration either in 2001 or ever since, except, perhaps, from an exclusively military point of view.

At the present stage it is probably too late to emerge from Afghanistan having achieved even an acceptably honourable defeat, and only a belated, rigorous attempt at a totally new approach to the problem, beginning with an open minded assessment of past errors and miscalculations, eschewing trite repetitions of pious intents, could perhaps avoid total disaster and humiliation.

The current tendency of hurling accusations of “duplicity” and “treachery” at Pakistan, along with the continued dissemination of rhetorical declarations and shibboleths, coupled with patently false and self-serving versions of past events (including the origins of the Taliban) will, instead, in no way contribute to clarify the situation, which now, more than ever before, demands a clear-headed assessment.

The accusation of “duplicitous” behaviour levelled at Pakistan takes many forms. Most recently it has been stated that the Pakistani armed forces have taken military action against the Taliban in Pakistan, but are reluctant to do so on Afghan territory. This would appear as the result of a reasonable Pakistani analysis of its own national interests, rather than the proof of double-dealing. The Pakistani Taliban are hostile to the Islamabad Government, which they accuse of being far too submissive to U.S. demands, while the Taliban in Afghanistan could well be an influential component of a future Afghan government, and would certainly remember any aggressive military action taken against them: Pakistan can ill afford to have a antagonistic neighbour to its North-West, and Islamabad’s view of itself as surrounded by hostile forces - whether justified or not – cannot be ignored and needs to be respected.

Several new elements are added, almost daily, to worsen the complexity of the situation, and certainly the persevering rumours of an imminent military coup in Islamabad do little to clarify matters. The continued, insistent use of pilotless drones – the surgical precision of which can easily be questioned – has added a new dimension to the hostility with which the entire operation is viewed in Pakistan, while, in Afghanistan itself, the recent murder of four French ISAF military personnel on a training mission by one of their Afghan trainees serves to show that hopes of leaving the country in a sufficiently stable state are unrealistic.

It is perhaps too late, at this stage, to reconsider the entire venture and to bring it to a relatively peaceful and dignified end. When the Soviet troops left, after a ten year occupation, marching across the bridge on the Oxus, they, at least, were going “home”, and, above all, to a place from which they could indirectly protect the puppet government they left behind – this, naturally, only until the collapse of the Soviet Union. There is no comfortable, nearby place from which the NATO allies can exercise this kind of immediate, close range surveillance and protection of whatever political structure they will be leaving behind in Afghanistan: the former Soviet Republics of Central Asia cannot be considered dependable and the nearest alternative, Turkey, is already quite a way off. It is difficult to imagine an Indian option which would not further and deeply irritate Pakistan, and, as a result, Afghanistan appears destined to be left to itself, in hopeless isolation, just as it was in 1989.

The damage done to Afghanistan and the Afghans will, in any case, take many years to repair, and continued military action against targets in Pakistan is certainly not the answer..