On Indignity

In any parliamentary republic, based on the separation of powers, a political representative – be it a MP, a minister or a Prime Minister – once hit by heavy sexual scandals and the accusation of corruption and private interests in running public affairs entrusted to him or her, would not survive, politically, from evening to dawn.

In any parliamentary republic, based on the separation of powers, a politician accused of sexual intercourse with underage, borderline Lolitas at lewd bunga bunga parties would be thrown out of office by his own party’s colleagues, to reduce the negative landslide effect that would in any case hit them, as well.

In any parliamentary republic, based on the separation of powers, a Prime Minister confessing to have contacted a police station, asking them to set free an underage girl – previously participating to his own bunga bunga parties – accused of theft, pretending she’s some country’s head of state’s niece, would be booed out of office by general uproar, with no chances for a comeback.

But Italy – though nominally still a parliamentary republic, based on the separation of powers – is a land inherently resembling an ancient near eastern satrapy more than a modern democracy. It is a land where politicians – of the ruling and of the opposition parties alike – have become greedy leeches, eating others’ work and wealth. It is a land where over 60 million Euro a year evaporate on a generalised corruption, and many more in nonessential works. It is a land where political parties decide whom to put on election lists, with no means for electors to choose among the less unworthy ones.

It is a land of no dignity, where people prefer feeding on the crumbs falling down from the ruling clique’s table, not realizing that it’s their own food – their wealth, their culture, their moral resources, their youth and their hope in a better future – that the clique is swallowing.

I remember someone saying, and this was well over a decade ago, that the anthropological mutation of Italy’s bunga bunga Lord and of his unruly clones couldn’t be done away with but with a massive blood bath. I do not know about that, but I’m sure that there is a threshold of degradation, beyond which a system can’t reform itself, but must wait for some Tunisian (or Romanian, or Egyptian…) style event to usher in a new one.

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