Remember Silvio, thou art but mortal

As he turns 73, Italian Premier Silvio Berlusconi has lots to worry about. Despite the fact that he claims even Superman would envy him, one cannot forget that even Superman has an Achilles Heel as amply demonstrated by the sad and tragic death of Superman star Christopher Reeve after a fall, not from the Empire State Building, but from a mere horse!

While the Maltese politicos, possibly because they believe that Malta is between a rock and a hard place, are trying their level best to be conciliatory with our rich and powerful neighbour, I, for one, do not believe that we can sit back and let the Italian media, most of which Mr Berlusconi controls and owns, ride roughshod over us. I have already made myself pretty clear about what I think about the attempt to reduce our SAR. Now that the tragedy of illegal immigration has become systematic, meaning that Italy is forcibly redirecting boats full of immigrants back to Libya in defiance of international law, it is impossible for decent human beings to remain silent. The Vatican leads the global concern about this blatant disregard for international humanitarian law.

It seems as if Mr Berlusconi is determined that, in future, his nickname of Il Cavaliere will have as much impact on Italian history as that of Il Duce. At 73, one must, despite cosmetic interventions and a much vaunted sex life, come to terms with one's own mortality. The way the Italian Premier is acting is typical of a rich man who has grown far too rich for his own good. Where does he go from here? What can he become after his present position?

He cannot be either a President of the US or Pope; so more and more each day Mr Berlusconi is behaving like a spoilt and petulant child.

Naturally, everyone is jealous of him. Not even QEII commands such an impressive private portfolio and it is all through his own merit that his fabulous business empire was built. For that he is to be greatly admired. Nobody builds fortunes like that by being a wuss. Once Mr Berlusconi's business acumen was applied to Italian politics, the uomo nella strada knew instinctively that if anyone could unravel the traditional unholy mess it was Silvio Berlusconi and was, therefore, prepared to overlook his little gaffes, quirks and penchants in order to have a strong hand at the tiller, especially during this horrible and boring recession. They were right, of course. Italy appears to be the country least adversely affected by the credit crunch. If the wheeling and dealing with Muammar Gaddafi is anything to go by, Italy is indeed pretty flush!

The sad thing is that the international press insists on treating Mr Berlusconi as a joke. YouTube is full of him posturing with the US and Russian Presidents and then there's the discreet rebuke by QEII during a recent summit. In reality, the sum of Mr Berlusconi's private achievements far outweighs anything Barack Obama and Dmitry Medvedev have personally achieved and as for QEII, well, she had riches and style from birth, which is rather unfair really, isn't it? Yet, all three occupy positions that Mr Berlusconi would give his eyetooth to have himself!

Domestically, Mr Berlusconi's reputation does not hinge on his divorce or his sexual peccadilloes but on how effectively he deals with the problem of illegal immigration.

This infiltration has been going on for many, many years, long before it was even recognised in Malta as such.

As a frequent and enthusiastic visitor to Italy, I can remember the colonies of caftan-clad Africans sitting cross-legged in Via Condotti selling false Gucci and Louis Vuitton as far back as a quarter of a century. They were, and still are, known as the Vu cumprar brigade. Fascinating is how, at a given signal that the cops were approaching, these men, obviously in the employ of Italian crooked businessmen, would whip up their wares in their groundsheet that can instantly become a sack and saunter in the side streets as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths while the impotent police passed by. If that is not a bad Carabiniere joke I really do not know what is.

Beyond the jokes are Mr Berlusconi's attempts to treat Brussels like he treats the Italian media. He has, like Violet Bott, stamped his foot and threatened to "scweam and scweam" unless the EU commissioners stop hounding him about the questionable immigration policy that Italy has adopted with Libya's full support. He has threatened to stymie EU decision-making unless the commissioners stop asking questions which, on the 70th anniversary of the outbreak of WWII is indeed nothing short of outrageous.

Mr Berlusconi has effectively banned showing the trailer of a film called Videocracy, directed by Erik Gandini that was shown at the Venice Film Festival, not only from his own TV stations but also from the national ones! Apparently, the film deals with his sex life. Now, just like Howard Brenton's The Romans in Britain in 1980, when Mary Whitehouse raised merry hell about the nudity in it, everyone wants to see it. Why I cannot imagine? Who on earth could be entertained by the sight of septuagenarians acting like randy billygoats? Certainly not I.

kzt@onvol.net