Sunday, March 16, 2008

THE COUNTRY THAT STANDS FOR THE CRIMINALS

THE COUNTRY THAT STANDS FOR THE CRIMINALS


Italians support criminals over the police forces. After several incidents in which officers were killed by the Italian-Albanian Mafia, Guardia di Finanza - the tax and border police who patrol the southern Italian coastline - threatened to open fire on the captains of small dinghies who smuggle immigrants into Italy. People protested to the Italian Home Minister, Mr Bianco, calling him a barbarian. He explained he intended that police only fire at the cruel Mafiosi who push immigrants from their boats for fun or to go faster when pursued by police vessels. None of these protesters lift a finger when an immigrant dies on an illegal inhumane journey, or when a police officer dies in the line of duty. No one throws a pebble at the Mafia dinghies. Moreover, stories of police officers shooting people who simply did not stop at their bidding, have recently filled the papers as if to reinforce this new anti-authoritarian feeling. Last week in a few articles, Rambo-like police officers injured several teenagers caught driving dad's car without permission or driving licence. They shot dead a 17-year-old Neapolitan boy, Mario for not wearing a helmet. [His family is alleged connected with the local Mafia. After the police confiscated his first scooter because he drove with out helmet and insurance, his family bought him a more powerful motorbike.] The policeman who shot the boy is now in prison because of the evidence of a witness who said it was no accident, but that the cowboy officer took out his gun and shot the boy who was taunting him with: "You can't catch me".
Naples exploded in anger towards the authorities, the police in particular. People assaulted police cars and threw stones at officers. The same week in the same city, in two separate incidents, Mafia killers took random aim into crowds of shoppers to kill their rivals. Innocents were killed and injured - one of them was 17, like Mario. But on this occasion, there was no public protest against the local Mafia (Camorra), and significantly, no witnesses. When interviewed as potential witnesses, bystanders follow the moral rule of the Omerta', - that is "I know nothing, I saw nothing, I heard nothing. I was not there and if I was, I was sleeping."


In Italy, reporting illegal activities is considered morally wrong. Those who report criminal activity are considered more of a wrongdoer than a shoplifter or a tax evader. By law, shops in Italy must give you a receipt that proves that they are paying income tax on each sale. No receipt in a café for a short expresso is a clear sign of tax dodging. But nobody in Italy complains when they do not get a receipt. It is accepted by the public, but not by the Italian special tax police - the most disliked police force in Italy, the Guardia di Finanza. For the average Italian finding a way to cheat the state, the government and the authorities is a sign of skill. Cheating is a heroic exploit': if you can do it, you are not a cheat, but shrewd. If you fail, you are the ordinary fool.


But where does all this anti-authoritarian feeling start?
The cheating culture starts at school. This is the first place where cheating is cool, trendy and part of the student's moral regime. In the US, university student organisations expel the students found cheating. In Italy they are heroes. Cheating in the Italian schools is such a common phenomenon that even teachers and examiners do it. Last weeks news was full of stories of the so-called new Italian "Bribeville", the early 1990s scandal that overturned Italian politics. While in the 1990s Italian businessmen started to denounce political corruption, now the Italians are tired incidents where professional students fail their exams unless they pay to get their diplomas in teaching, accounting or law. How widespread is the phenomenon? In one of the qualifying law exams under investigation by magistrates (in Catanzaro, South of Italy), 2297 out of 2303 tests given to the examiners were identical. Only six candidates didn't cheat. It's a good business too; to get a piece of paper that authorises a teacher to work in a nursery school, the candidates had to submit their test with £5,000 (L 15 million) to the examiners. What kinds of moral values will those teachers pass on their pupils?