In my department there is a man who finds my Italian background a never-ending source of mirth.
Not a meeting goes by without him referring to ‘Mafia connections’ and ‘the Mafiosi business model’ with a nod and a wink in my direction.
If in company, the remaining bodies laugh politely.
But I laugh not.
Beyond it being a tedious slur on par on with praising Berlusconi’s leadership (nudge-nudge, wink-wink), the Mafia is not a joke.
It is not the movies, it is not the Puzo novels and most of all it is not fiction.
The Mafia is the serpentine behemoth that coils beneath the surface of Italy; it is the foe of justice and flexes equal (if not greater) independent economic muscle than the Italian economy itself.
Crucially, it is barbarism in its cruellest form.
Mafia boss, Mario Bacio Terracino, is gunned down by a hitman outside a bar; his attacker finishes him off with a single shot to the back of the head before calmly walking away.
Calmly, because he knows he will be furnished with judicial impunity.
Who’s laughing now?
