We won't be Berlusconi's scapegoats, say Gypsies
Tom Kington in Rome meets families evicted by the city's new right-wing mayor at their isolated camp and hears them demand 'a few rights'
Tom Kington in Rome
The Observer,
Sunday June 15 2008
Article history
Gypsies near Milan watch the Italy-Romania game. Photograph: Reuters
In a desolate field just beyond the Rome ring road, a single line of caravans is a stark sign of the times in the new and increasingly anti-immigrant Italy. The vehicles are the modest homes of 25 Gypsy families, who have become the first victims of a campaign waged by the city's new right-wing mayor to crack down on foreign criminals and illegal Gypsy camps.
Oblivious to their parents' distress, children laugh and duck behind cars, squirting water pistols at each other as the adults contemplate an uncertain future. But the white sheets waving on clothes lines seem to symbolise a mood of surrender and gloom. Police, accompanied by dogs, have just chased this community from the city centre site it had occupied for 20 years.
'We work for a living, but in a couple of hours, everything we had created, the relationship we had built with locals over decades, was wiped out,' said Alessandro, 36.
The eviction, against the advice of Rome's police chief, was the latest sign of the disturbing groundswell of resentment building across Italy against the 150,000-strong Roma population. In Naples, a camp was recently firebombed. Near Venice, well supported demonstrations have mobilised locals against a proposed new camp agreed by the council. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi's promise to get tough on the perceived lawlessness of Gypsies and foreigners earns him huge approval ratings and gives the green light to right-wing allies, such as Rome's mayor, Gianni Alemanno, to take drastic action.
The tide of ill-feeling against the Gypsies has become so strong that, for some, Friday's Euro 2008 match between Italy and Romania, which ended in a 1-1 draw, became an opportunity to offer support for the beleaguered minority. Some government critics declared they would support the Romanians as an expression of solidarity with the geographical roots of many of Italy's Gypsies. A group of protesters also took to the streets in the capital, including Roma women dancing in traditional dress, Italian intellectuals and slow-marching Jewish survivors from Germany's death camps.
Marking the first such demonstration in Italy, the protesters wore the same black triangle bearing the letter Z as worn by Gypsy inmates at the camps. 'We don't want to be scapegoats,' said Roma singer and academic Santo Spinelli, who helped organise the march. 'Italians are not racist, but we must put an end to the misinformation, mystification and media violence in this country.'
Such sentiments cut little ice with the likes of the mayor. The fact that many of those targeted are Italian citizens also appears to offer little protection. Alessandro, like the rest of the Gypsy group, was born in Italy and carries an Italian passport. Not surprisingly, he is furious. 'I did my military service, I vote and I would like a few rights,' he said.
The community to which he belongs has been in Italy for three generations, migrating in 1936 from Fiume, which was then Italian territory and is now part of Croatia. 'Those who stayed behind died in German concentration camps,' said their spokesman Aldo Hudorovich.
The group initially kept on the move, then, two decades ago, they settled in Rome's Testaccio neighbourhood and their children were sent to local schools. Now they believe that they, and others like them, have become scapegoats for the Berlusconi government, which has pledged a crackdown on crime. 'The government cannot keep control of foreign criminals entering the country and we are the easy target,' said Hudorovich.
A recent survey found that 68 per cent of respondents wanted all Italy's Gypsies expelled, while another poll, commissioned by newspaper La Repubblica, discovered that 77 per cent now want all unauthorised camps demolished.
In Testaccio, the Gypsies gradually formed bonds with locals, coming to be accepted. But the new ugly mood in Rome was apparent even prior to the forced eviction. 'Even with the new atmosphere we continued to be on good terms with locals,' said Sonia, 43, 'but outside the area people began to shout "Ugly Gypsy" at me.' Elsewhere in Rome there have been reports of petrol bombs being hurled into camps.
'It's OK for the men to go around,' said Alessandro, 'but because of their traditional long dresses we are afraid to be in public with our wives.'
For the children, it has been a bemusing and painful experience. The police arrived in Testaccio on the last day of the school term and were persuaded to give a stay of execution until the children returned from school. 'Our friends did not change their views towards us, and came along with teachers to say goodbye when we were evicted,' said Isacco, 13.
Then the group drove out of the centre of Rome to a new, temporary site located in a field near Rome's Tor Vergata university campus. Hudorovich said none of the men in the camp were venturing out to work yet. 'Right now we have the kids to watch and we are staying put to see how we are accepted,' he said.
The signs are not good. The university's rector had one simple reaction: 'It's university property. When will they be evicted?
Tom Kington in Rome meets families evicted by the city's new right-wing mayor at their isolated camp and hears them demand 'a few rights'
Tom Kington in Rome
The Observer,
Sunday June 15 2008
Article history
Gypsies near Milan watch the Italy-Romania game. Photograph: Reuters
In a desolate field just beyond the Rome ring road, a single line of caravans is a stark sign of the times in the new and increasingly anti-immigrant Italy. The vehicles are the modest homes of 25 Gypsy families, who have become the first victims of a campaign waged by the city's new right-wing mayor to crack down on foreign criminals and illegal Gypsy camps.
Oblivious to their parents' distress, children laugh and duck behind cars, squirting water pistols at each other as the adults contemplate an uncertain future. But the white sheets waving on clothes lines seem to symbolise a mood of surrender and gloom. Police, accompanied by dogs, have just chased this community from the city centre site it had occupied for 20 years.
'We work for a living, but in a couple of hours, everything we had created, the relationship we had built with locals over decades, was wiped out,' said Alessandro, 36.
The eviction, against the advice of Rome's police chief, was the latest sign of the disturbing groundswell of resentment building across Italy against the 150,000-strong Roma population. In Naples, a camp was recently firebombed. Near Venice, well supported demonstrations have mobilised locals against a proposed new camp agreed by the council. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi's promise to get tough on the perceived lawlessness of Gypsies and foreigners earns him huge approval ratings and gives the green light to right-wing allies, such as Rome's mayor, Gianni Alemanno, to take drastic action.
The tide of ill-feeling against the Gypsies has become so strong that, for some, Friday's Euro 2008 match between Italy and Romania, which ended in a 1-1 draw, became an opportunity to offer support for the beleaguered minority. Some government critics declared they would support the Romanians as an expression of solidarity with the geographical roots of many of Italy's Gypsies. A group of protesters also took to the streets in the capital, including Roma women dancing in traditional dress, Italian intellectuals and slow-marching Jewish survivors from Germany's death camps.
Marking the first such demonstration in Italy, the protesters wore the same black triangle bearing the letter Z as worn by Gypsy inmates at the camps. 'We don't want to be scapegoats,' said Roma singer and academic Santo Spinelli, who helped organise the march. 'Italians are not racist, but we must put an end to the misinformation, mystification and media violence in this country.'
Such sentiments cut little ice with the likes of the mayor. The fact that many of those targeted are Italian citizens also appears to offer little protection. Alessandro, like the rest of the Gypsy group, was born in Italy and carries an Italian passport. Not surprisingly, he is furious. 'I did my military service, I vote and I would like a few rights,' he said.
The community to which he belongs has been in Italy for three generations, migrating in 1936 from Fiume, which was then Italian territory and is now part of Croatia. 'Those who stayed behind died in German concentration camps,' said their spokesman Aldo Hudorovich.
The group initially kept on the move, then, two decades ago, they settled in Rome's Testaccio neighbourhood and their children were sent to local schools. Now they believe that they, and others like them, have become scapegoats for the Berlusconi government, which has pledged a crackdown on crime. 'The government cannot keep control of foreign criminals entering the country and we are the easy target,' said Hudorovich.
A recent survey found that 68 per cent of respondents wanted all Italy's Gypsies expelled, while another poll, commissioned by newspaper La Repubblica, discovered that 77 per cent now want all unauthorised camps demolished.
In Testaccio, the Gypsies gradually formed bonds with locals, coming to be accepted. But the new ugly mood in Rome was apparent even prior to the forced eviction. 'Even with the new atmosphere we continued to be on good terms with locals,' said Sonia, 43, 'but outside the area people began to shout "Ugly Gypsy" at me.' Elsewhere in Rome there have been reports of petrol bombs being hurled into camps.
'It's OK for the men to go around,' said Alessandro, 'but because of their traditional long dresses we are afraid to be in public with our wives.'
For the children, it has been a bemusing and painful experience. The police arrived in Testaccio on the last day of the school term and were persuaded to give a stay of execution until the children returned from school. 'Our friends did not change their views towards us, and came along with teachers to say goodbye when we were evicted,' said Isacco, 13.
Then the group drove out of the centre of Rome to a new, temporary site located in a field near Rome's Tor Vergata university campus. Hudorovich said none of the men in the camp were venturing out to work yet. 'Right now we have the kids to watch and we are staying put to see how we are accepted,' he said.
The signs are not good. The university's rector had one simple reaction: 'It's university property. When will they be evicted?
