Newsgroup: it.politica.internazionale
Titolo: the quintessential Italian

Trovo irritante questo articolo di Severgnini. Sono l'unico?
 
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111903703604576586782010851882.html?mod=WSJ_Books_LS_Books_5
 
 
The Secret to Berlusconi's Dolce Vita
He adores his kids, talks about his mamma, hates rules, tells jokes—
he's the quintessential Italian
By BEPPE SEVERGNINI
[BERLUSCONI] Agence France-Presse/Getty Images
 
'He's one of us': Absolver in chief Silvio Berlusconi.
 
Real life in Italy is always one step ahead of anyone's imaginings. In
the past few months, our political scene has started to resemble a
spaghetti-western version of Mel Brooks's "Blazing Saddles"—anything
goes. But we Italians are not laughing anymore.
 
Some foreigners (but not foreign investors) say: "It's all part of
your charm!" But it's also one of our problems, and at the center of
it all sits Silvio Berlusconi, who turns 75 this Thursday and is
Italy's longest-serving postwar prime minister.
 
The whole world is well acquainted with Mr. Berlusconi's scandals and
shenanigans—wild parties, prostitutes, unsavory business partners.
Though he denies any wrongdoing, he is currently embroiled in no fewer
than nine judicial tangles. The charges range from corrupting a
witness to paying for sex with a minor.
 
This is embarrassing enough on its own, to say nothing of his
government's pitiful record—stagnant GDP, rampant youth unemployment,
stalled tax and justice reforms and fears over the public debt. But
through it all—at least until recently—Mr. Berlusconi has been able to
fall back on one abiding strength: He is the quintessential Italian
and has been able to read the nation's mood like no one else.
 
Mr. Berlusconi represents some of the best, and much of the worst, of
the national character. Every Italian possesses a tiny bit of Silvio.
As the songwriter Giorgio Gaber summed it up:
 
I'm not afraid of Berlusconi in himself
 
I'm afraid of Berlusconi in me.
 
Here, then, are a few key terms to explain why Mr. Berlusconi has been
around for so long—and why, despite being down, he's not yet out.
 
Simpatico. The most dangerous word in Italian is "simpatico": nice,
likable, pleasant. But it can also mean putting on a seductive
attitude, which is not always harmless.
 
What do many Italians think of Silvio Berlusconi? "He looks like us.
He's one of us." He adores his kids, talks about his mamma, knows his
soccer, makes money, loves new homes, hates rules, tells jokes, swears
a bit, adores women, likes to party and is convivial to a fault.
 
He is our absolver in chief. He forgives us for the sins we have
committed and those we may yet commit. "If they want upward of 50% of
my income in taxes, I feel that's an unfair demand. I feel morally
authorized to evade as much as I can," he said once.
 
"Am I faithful? Frequently," he quipped when confronted with the
evidence of his serial adulteries. As details surfaced of his wild sex
parties with girls who called him "Papi," he explained: "I work hard
and, in the evening, I need to unwind."
 
Salesman. Mr. Berlusconi has brought to politics a flair for seduction
that served him well in his previous careers in construction,
television and advertising. He knows that his message has to be
reassuring and easily digestible. And there are enough people in Italy
who believe what they see in gossip magazines or on television—much of
which Mr. Berlusconi owns or, as head of government, controls.
 
Mr. Berlusconi is convinced that, in a nation obsessed with
appearances, image is key. In Italy, making the right impression ("la
bella figura") too often prevails over doing the right thing.
 
Survivor. Every Italian feels he or she stands alone against the
world, or at least the neighbors. Survival—personal, family, social
and economic—is a source of pride and a test of ingenuity. Much has
been written about Italians' individualism and resourcefulness, and
Mr. Berlusconi embodies these qualities.
 
First he amassed his fortune, earning his spurs as a self-made man.
Next, he built on Italians' distrust of everything shared, our
intolerance of rules and the inner satisfaction that we take in
finding private solutions to collective problems. In Italy, there is
no real public pressure for a new, fairer tax system. People simply
figure out ways to evade the one they already have.
 
Signore. Together with the Comune (municipality), the Signoria, or
absolute lordship, is Italy's only indigenous political structure. All
the others—feudalism, monarchy, totalitarianism, federalism,
parliamentary democracy—have been imported from elsewhere. Their
Italian incarnations have always been slightly artificial, from the
toe-curling awkwardness of Mussolini's fascism to today's passive
parliament.
 
But a Signoria stirs ancient instincts, and many modern Italians see
Mr. Berlusconi much as their forebears saw absolute lordships. We
might satirize, circumvent or hoodwink the great prince, but we don't
mess with him.
 
In Italy, the powerful do not have to exercise their power with
restraint, as they do in other Western democracies. As the opposition
called for his resignation, Mr. Berlusconi quipped: "They keep telling
me, 'Go home! Go home!' They're putting me in a difficult position. I
own 20 houses. Where shall I go?" Can you think of any other Western
leader, in today's economic climate, who could get away with that?
 
Some things have not changed for centuries. The Signore's excesses are
seen with a kind of bemused complicity, even pride. That is, until
excesses become too excessive, as have Mr. Berlusconi's in the last
few months.
 
Satanic Politics. Margaret Thatcher's classic acronym T.I.N.A.—There
Is No Alternative—says it all about the attitude of Italian voters.
The alternative to Mr. Berlusconi offered by Italy's center-left has
proved unappetizing: strife-torn coalitions, woolly proposals,
hypocritical posturing. And Mr. Berlusconi never fails to point out
the communist roots of the rival Democratic Party.
 
Italians are realists. Before choosing what they think is right, they
consider what they believe to be useful. In order to defeat the left,
many Italians would have voted for the devil. Mr. Berlusconi can be
pretty diabolical, but Satan's style is something else.
 
So, then, buon compleanno, Signor Silvio! Times are tough, and we have
no present for you. Perhaps a farewell party instead?

 Trovo irritante questo articolo di Severgnini. Sono l'unico?
 
e` irritante, ma descrive una realta`.