Berkley Center

By taking a "US History" course at l’Universitá degli Studi di Firenze, my abroad experience’s study of contrasts is extended directly into the classroom. Our last day of class covered the dense stretch of US history from the 1960s through today. In a broad survey course such as this one, the professor is consigned to select only the most important events and topics to explain, so I generally feel I know what to expect. The 1960s and 1970s should mean a series of movements and a sense of social activism; the Vietnam War and student protests; the chaos and tragedy of 1968; the conservative backlash of Nixon’s silent majority; and, of course, the disturbing aftershocks of the corruption of Watergate.

When I interviewed three family members for a project about their experiences in the 1960s and 1970s, all three named Watergate as a turning point in their understanding of government and society. My mother was inspired to be a journalist by Woodward and Bernstein’s groundbreaking investigative work. She identified an atmosphere of disbelief and distrust that pervaded the country. It marked the absolute end of the relative hope of the movements of the 1960s, which believed in the ability to work with beneficent politicians to bring about positive change.

My Italian professor didn’t mention it. She is incredibly diligent and thorough; it could not have been a mistake. Later, when she touched upon the impeachment of President Clinton in the 1990s, she mentioned Nixon’s impeachment as a precedent. Then the reason for the previous omission was revealed: in essence, she dismissed Watergate as “nothing for us Italians.”

I assumed that she was referring to the constant embroilment of Italy’s notoriously corrupt Presidente del Consiglio, Silvio Berlusconi, in controversy. He has been accused of everything from collusion with the mafia, graft, conflicts of interest (he owns a vast share of public television channels and a newspaper), bribery of politicians and judges, and, most recently, paying for the services of underage prostitutes. Over decades and dozens of trials, and despite being found guilty of providing false testimony in 1990, he has never once been sentenced. Capable of purchasing political support and altering laws to evade conviction, Berlusconi makes Richard Nixon look like the poor little kid that was severely punished for lifting a lollipop from the supermarket.

I took my interpretation to my host mom, who is incredibly well-educated and opinionated, especially about history and politics. She immediately disagreed with my professor’s judgment that Watergate meant “nothing for us Italians.” On the contrary, she argued, it catalyzed a similar impeachment here. This revealed a profound difference in sentiment: while Americans were dispirited by the president’s abuse of power, Italians were inspired by the capacity of motivated citizens and the judiciary to correct the abuse.

The same sentiment resurfaced in 1992, when a small group of Milanese judges started to investigate and convict politicians and businessmen on charges of bribery and corruption. The operation spread throughout the entire peninsula and became so extraordinarily vast that every single political party in Italy was revealed guilty, and every single one fell from power. The branch of representatives was empty, open to the growth of a number of new parties, including Berlusconi’s.

If practically every major representative of both political parties in the United States were found guilty of corruption, the resulting social unrest and disillusion would be unimaginably profound. In Italy, on the other hand, citizens were encouraged by the operation. They expected their officials to be corrupt. They did not expect their judicial system to work well enough to remove them from office. The judiciary became widely regarded as the most respected, venerable power in the country.

Today, the judiciary remains the only branch of government independent of the powerful influence of Berlusconi, who currently holds control over both the executive and legislative branches of government. The judiciary is his most insidious nemesis, and he is trying to find a way to pull it under his control in a form more durable and reliable than the old fallback, bribery of individual judges. He is perilously close to realizing his goal.

For the first time, I understand the Italian point of view. Watergate demonstrated the triumph of checks and balances, and the freedom of press. I appreciate that we practically take these things for granted in the United States—it’s a reflection of a functioning system. I fear for Italy, a country in which these two bulwarks of democracy are gradually vanishing into the past.