Martin Solly: Xenophobe's Guide to the Italians

Mafia in all its local forms has for centuries been a way of life in the South of Italy – except for some for whom it has been a way of death. The reason for its success is simple enough: in the absence of a recognisable or effective government, it was the only organised system ordinary people could refer to when they needed say, a permit to work or to get married.

“Most Italians are terrified and fascinated by the mafia at one and the same time.”

Most Italians are terrified and fascinated by the mafia at one and the same time. They know its tentacles of power reach to the highest levels in politics and business since the mafia have always specialised in making offers that cannot be refused, knowing that everything and everyone has their price. They also know that the code of omertà (silence) is so strong that the odds are that the mafia will never be defeated, and every time one of its tentacles is lopped off, hydra-like others will grow again, stronger than before.

The mafia is seen as a cancer that is slowly destroying the Italian state. The Italians have to live with it and alongside it, a state within a state, sharing their country with it as they always have done. And yet they secretly believe that, just as the right treatment in time might be able to cure a tumour, sooner or later the right treatment will be found and administered in time to defeat the mafia.

“Luckily, the closest most Italians will ever get to the real thing is the latest gripping episode on television.”

Much of the time the mafia is divided, as its various families fight out their latest power struggle in time-honoured ways. Dark-suited men carrying violin cases still burst into barbers’ shops in the back streets of Palermo and gun down the bosses of rival clans. Luckily, the closest most Italians will ever get to the real thing is the latest gripping episode of one of the many highly popular television series on Italy’s organised crime, such as Distretto di Polizia (Police Precinct) which replaced La Piovra (The Octopus).

The Italian industrial and financial system is suffering the after-effects of some major scandals: two of them as a result of the collapse of food chain giants Cirio and Parmalat; two of them involving the bungled attempt to prevent two of Italy’s banks from being taken over by the Dutch and Spanish.

Business in the private sector in Italy is dominated by a handful of leading families, such as Agnelli (cars), Pirelli (tyres), Del Vecchio (eyeware), Della Valle (shoes), Berlusconi (TV channels) and Benetton (clothes). Although their companies are, in fact, vast conglomerates with a wide diversity of interests, they are run more like family businesses than multi-national corporations. Power tends to be kept within the family group by a series of cross-holdings. There is no similar concentration of power in any other western country.

“Italy is perhaps the only country in the world where employees appear to earn more than their employers, or so it would seem from their tax declarations.”

The success of the Italian economy is also based on the skills, hard work and dynamism of the small and medium-sized companies in the North that produce a large part of the country’s GNP. They are also mostly family-run businesses, organised in such a way as to minimise the payment of taxes and national insurance contributions. Italy is perhaps the only country in the world where employees appear to earn more than their employers, or so it would seem from their tax declarations. Similarly, professional people and craftsmen, like accountants, goldsmiths, dentists and lawyers, have few qualms about declaring subsistence level earnings while maintaining two or three houses, a race horse and three yachts.

“Every Italian mother dreams that her children, especially her male children, will achieve lo starbene – a state of physical and mental well-being in their work.”

Every Italian mother dreams that her children, especially her male children, will achieve lo starbene – a state of physical and mental well-being in their work. What this generally entails is finding lavoro fisso (a steady job) in the air-conditioned office of a government department or government-owned bank or company and looking good behind a big desk. Though not particularly well-paid, these jobs entitle their holders to 13 or even 14 months’ salary a year and offer all sort of perks including almost total job security and the possibility of retiring early on a full pension. Best of all, they are usually so undemanding that their holders can concentrate most of their energies on the family business, or on whatever really interests them: watching football, collecting stamps or just sitting, sipping coffee, reading comics. Too bad that the lavoro fisso is becoming ever harder to find as the Italian system falls into step with work practices elsewhere in the EU, it still remains the objective of most young Italians and, of course, their mothers.

Life in the average Italian office is like Italian life in general. Style and behaviour are important, and managerial and office staff should, of course, look and act the part. Punctuality has been taken a little more seriously since the advent of clocking in and out of work.

Office hours can be very long in the private sector (8.00 a.m. – 7.30 p.m. with only half an hour for lunch). However, things are very different in the public sector: some offices are only open to the public for two hours a week, and others are never open at all.

“Strikes in Italy reveal Italian passion, patience and resourcefulness at its collective best.”

Many of the public holidays that Italians took for Saint’s Days have now been surrendered, so the practice of ponti (building ‘bridges’ between the weekend and a national holiday) assumes greater importance. Holidays are planned long in advance so as to be able to link them to public holidays. This is why Italian strikes usually take place on Mondays or Fridays.

Strikes in Italy reveal Italian passion, patience and resourcefulness at its collective best. The autostrada and railways will be occupied, rubbish not collected and hunger strikes started – the nation will seem to be on the verge of chaos – and then an unexpected compromise will be reached when none seemed possible. Everyone will claim victory, no-one will be seen to lose face, and the situation will return to normal. Everybody will have enjoyed the strike.

Typically, when the La Scala orchestra went on strike on the opening night of the 1995 season, the conductor had a grand piano brought on stage and he and the soloists performed the whole concert without the orchestra, to rapturous applause.

Patronage, or raccomandazione , along with its trading of favours, jobs and influence, is part and parcel of Italian business life. At its worst it prevents things from growing in a healthy way; at its best it is a kind of old boy network that is necessary in a country where little, in terms of real qualifications, is quite what it seems.

“Patronage along with its trading of favours, jobs and influence, is part and parcel of Italian business life.”

In order to ensure fair play in the distribution of jobs in the public sector, and in an attempt to curb the problem of raccomandazione , the Italian authorities organise job competitions, when jobs are advertised and then candidates sit an exam to decide who are the most suitable for the job. When there are not too many candidates the system works reasonably well, but when 14,000 people applied to become dustmen in the region of Lombardy, the situation became more complicated. Undismayed, le autorità took over the local football stadium for the day and brought in desks and chairs from the schools.