In the end, it turned out better than he must have feared at times during Italy’s long, tense election night.
Recently, Romano Prodi seemed assured of a majority in both houses of Parliament, though the fate of his next government could rest on a knife edge in the Senate. The outcome was not the clear victory promised by opinion and exit polls, and his opponent, Silvio Berlusconi, refused to concede defeat and called for a re-examination of tens of thousands of votes.
But it nevertheless represented a considerable triumph for a man whose genial manner and reasoned arguments were all but eclipsed during the campaign by the raucous, vulgar clowning of Berlusconi.
Prodi is an easy man to underrate. His nickname is ”the Mortadella” because, like Italy’s favourite pink sausage, he is agreeably bland and comes from Bologna.
But while ”the Prof” — to give him his other nickname — may be regarded as having made a hash of his stint as president of the European Union Commission, he has a 100% record of success in his homeland. He has twice taken on the intimidatingly populist Berlusconi — first in 1996 — and twice emerged with the lion’s share of votes and seats.
In the lower house of Italy’s Parliament, the Chamber of Deputies, he is guaranteed an ample majority of 50 seats because of a rule change made by Berlusconi’s government last year.
The centre-left Union won just 25 000 votes more than the right-wing House of Freedoms, but the new law provides the winning side with bonus seats to make sure it can legislate.
Prodi’s problems start in the upper house, which has the same powers as the Chamber of Deputies. There, different rules apply and the centre-left was looking at a tiny, two-seat majority of the elected senators.
But a further idiosyncrasy of Italy’s political system is that not all its senators are elected. Seven are named for life. But most can be expected to vote for Prodi if necessary, so his real majority in the upper house should be about six.
That Prodi’s majority should be so slim is evidence of the effectiveness of Berlusconi’s crassly populist tactics in the final stage of the campaign.
Whether it was his offensive language, his improbable claims to be a victim of an establishment plot, or his equally improbable promises of tax cuts, something worked. He succeeded in trimming a 3,5% to 5% advantage in the opinion polls to virtually nothing by polling day.
The fact that his party, Forza Italia, remains Italy’s biggest should be enough to assure his survival, at least for the moment, as leader of the right. At 69, he does not have much time in which to wrest back power, but he should have plenty of opportunities.
If, as expected, Prodi is appointed to head the next government, a narrow majority in the upper house will not be his only headache. On the one hand, the Union’s programme commits it to ”radical reforms” aimed at improving Italy’s flagging competitiveness.
On the other, the election results showed the parties on the left that did best were those least keen on those ”radical reforms”.
Communist Refoundation — led by Fausto Bertinotti, a former trade unionist who dresses like an English country gentleman — wants to follow France by ditching a law that introduces short-term employment contracts.
But Bertinotti can expect stiff resistance from the right wing of the Union, who want to shape it into something like the United States Democratic Party.
In his latest film, The Cayman, the director Nanni Moretti compares Berlusconi to the deadly reptile of that name. If the centre-left does fall to squabbling, it will not be long before Italy’s ruthless billionaire statesman eases himself off the mud and moves in for the kill.
That might just provide the winners of this contest the incentive they need to stick together. The desire for survival is a great unifier. — Â