First published in Column 8 on the 1st December, 1993
I hope you’re sitting while you read the next sentence. Let
me say, Thank God for New Zealand politics (if you weren’t sitting down, you
must be now.)
An article in the ODT
last week attempted to unravel the so-called Italian paradox. What paradox? As
far as I could make out, the paradox is that Italian politics and Italian life
in general, thrive on corruption. To quote Professor
Franco Ferrarotti, holder of Italy’s first academic chair in sociology,
‘Corruption is of the essence of being a politician.’
Professor Ferrarotti has been living in the hot
Mediterranean sun too long, methinks. He considers telling lies is an
expedient. Stealing, he says, is not a serious offence, especially if you do it
with dexterity. Corruption, as long as you don’t physically hurt anyone, is
considered a fine art.
Now do you see why New Zealand seems like a sweet place to
live, in spite of Jim and Ruth and Mike and Bill and Jenny?
The professor is one of the founders of modern sociological
studies in Italy, and it might be thought he’s merely observing his
countrymen’s habits. He doesn’t, however, seem to see much wrong with the way
they behave.
Professor Ferrarotti makes more paradoxical statements
further on (if paradoxical is really the right word), when he talks about the
Catholic Church, an institution he apparently regards as belonging to Italy
alone.
Having been brought up as a Catholic, I may have slightly
more knowledge about this corner of Christianity than some.
The eminent professor claims that confession is merely an
institution wherein people confess only in order to go out and sin again. He
calls it a ‘virtuous cycle of vice,’ whatever that clever-sounding phrase may
mean. (It might join my collection of all-purpose modern phrases such as ‘orchestrated litany of
lies’ and ‘mother
of all whatever-you-wish.’)
He also claims confession is a Mediterranean institution,
which outsiders cannot understand. I think Prof F’s sociology lacks breadth.
Mediterranean confession may be a little difficult to grasp, but confession is
as broadspread as the Catholic Church (which in spite of its ‘Roman’ adjective,
is only Roman in Rome).
He says repentance doesn’t mean you won’t sin again. It’s
curious that the first Christians were hot on it meaning just that. They
certainly never saw it as a means to cover up your sins for a few moments
before you went out and acted as wickedly as before.
According to the Prof, only Italy is able to talk negatively
about itself as a country. ‘Insecure nationalities cannot afford the luxury of
self-criticism.’
Our Kiwi-clobbering machine, then, ought to make New Zealand
a very secure place.
Perhaps the truth lies closer to the fact that following
Ferrarotti’s view, Italy appears to be unable to control its destiny, unable to
deal with the wickedness inherent in its daily life, and unable to appreciate
how the rest of the world see it: a nation bankrupt politically, and perhaps
morally.
There is nothing worse than a nation which in its arrogance
claims to know itself better than anyone else. France takes that stance,
apparently unable to see how oafish and boorish its behaviour is within the
world community. Robbie Burns’ phrase about seeing ourselves as others see us,
seems more than appropriate.
I’m not against Italy or Italians. I spent my honeymoon in
Rome, and stayed there briefly on another occasion. I enjoyed the place, the
history, the people (but not the lack of public toilets). However, New
Zealand’s lack of corruption, aversion to lies and stealing makes it look the
more pleasant of the two countries.
If Prof F’s views are true, heaven help the Italians – it
will take more than a Mediterranean-coloured confession to change their ways.
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| Photo courtesy of Carlo Bordoni |
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