Proponents of Italy’s new anti-immigration laws say they are a much-needed response to a serious problem, but critics say they recall the policies of the fascist dictator, Benito Mussolini, reports the BBC World Service’s Madeleine Morris in Milan.
"The life that I’m living in Italy is very poor. I don’t have documents. In Europe, if you don’t have documents, you are nothing – you are an empty vessel."
Michael – not his real name – is a 19-year-old Sierra Leonean who came to Italy 15 months ago.
He crossed the sea from Libya in a small boat, along with 65 other people. Once they landed in Italy, he claimed asylum.
"We just want to be sure that the immigrants who arrive on our land want to be here to work "
Paolo Grimaldi, Northern League MP
But Michael’s claim, along with the majority of asylum seekers who land on Italy’s shores, was rejected.
Since then, he has been living illegally in the northern city of Milan, struggling to survive under Italy’s increasingly tough policy on illegal immigrants.
I see that policy in action as we pass an internet cafe near the hostel where he is staying.
Four policemen enter the cafe and single out those of African descent, asking to check their official documents.
"They’re in here three or four times a day looking for people without papers," Michael says.
Under fire
Italy has come under fire from groups as diverse as the Vatican and the European Commission for its strict new anti-immigration laws, which were passed in early July.
"This law really alters the landscape by criminalising the violation"
Saskia Sassen
Columbia University
Under the legislation, illegal immigrants are liable to pay a fine of 10,000 euros (£8,700; $14,200) and can now be detained by the authorities for up to six months.
In addition, people who knowingly house undocumented migrants can now face up to three years in prison.
The new law also permits the formation of unarmed citizen patrol groups to help police keep order.
The European Commission is investigating the new laws to see if they comply with existing EU legislation on immigration.
"Italy is absolutely not a racist country. We just want to be sure that the immigrants who arrive on our land want to be here to work, not to make crimes," says Paolo Grimaldi, an MP for the right-wing Northern League.
Mr Grimaldi, whose party leader, Interior Minister Roberto Maroni, ushered the new law through parliament, firmly believes Italy is facing an emergency.
With nearly 37,000 immigrants arriving on their shores last year, mostly via boats from Libya and Tunisia, many Italians agree.
"There are too many people. You see in the city, on the streets in Milan, two million immigrants, I think," says one Milanese man, who did not want to give his name.
"I want to help people who are poorer than me, but I want to know where they come from and what they are going to do," says Martina, a 23-year-old Northern League supporter. "It is better if they come here legally."
Criminalised
According to Saskia Sassen, an expert on European immigration at Columbia University in New York, Italy’s new laws could be the beginning of "a catastrophic phase" for not only migrants but also Italian citizens.
"This law really alters the landscape by criminalising the violation," she says.
"In the past you were in violation of the law. That doesn’t mean you were a criminal. This law means if you break the law, now you are considered a criminal. That’s a big deal."
Mr Grimaldi readily admits that almost no illegal immigrants would be able to pay a 10,000-euro fine. In fact, he says, that is the point.
European Union laws oblige all 25 countries party to the Schengen Agreement, which allows passport-free travel across the area, to allow illegal immigrants to make two "mistakes", and the new Italian law makes such "mistakes" more likely.
"We want to expel these illegal immigrants to their country of provenance," Mr Grimaldi says.
"If they have already been arrested for something before, if they don’t pay the fine, we will have recidivism."
The immigrant will have made two "mistakes", and "so then we can make the expulsion".
Italy issues very few visas to people who are already living in the country, and demand for work permits from potential immigrants greatly outstrips supply.
It quickly becomes a Catch-22 situation – illegal immigrants who have no visa are unable to get a job; those without a job are unable to get a visa.
"If they didn’t want me they shouldn’t have rescued me"
"Michael"
As a result, both illegal and legal migrants have become an increasingly obvious presence on the streets of Italian cities.
At night, groups of men from across Africa, the Arab world and Asia roll out sleeping bags and cardboard boxes in Milan’s numerous historic piazzas.
By day, they get by however they can – some by selling fake designer handbags or toys, some by stealing.
Michael lived on the streets of Milan for eight months before being given a bed at Casa della Carita, one of a number of charity-run hostels in the city which house immigrants.
"I don’t have a job. I can’t go to the hospital if I am sick," he says.
Beside him in the hostel’s courtyard, a disparate group of migrants from as far away as Afghanistan and Bangladesh pass the time playing cards.
"Italian people rescued me from their sea. If they didn’t want me they shouldn’t have rescued me," Michael adds.</p
This article is from the BBC News website. © British Broadcasting Corporation, The BBC is not responsible for the content of external internet sites.
Irish Catholics want accountability
Continued revelations of abuse by priests in Ireland has left many Catholics in despair at the slow pace of reform
A mere two months after the Ryan Commission report on sexual abuse of children in religious run institutions revealed sickening brutality and depravity, the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland is facing yet another report on clerical sexual abuse.
Set up in March 2006, the state-appointed Dublin Archdiocese commission investigated how child sex abuse allegations against a representative sample of 46 priests in Dublin were handled by 19 bishops between 1 January 1975 and 30 April 2004. Although the commission’s report has been delivered to the minister for justice, publication may be delayed because three abuse cases involving priests or former priests are currently before the courts.
The report is expected to be harshly critical of bishops who appeared to focus on protecting the church’s reputation at the expense of children’s safety. Since his appointment, the Archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin‘s cooperation and openness has been considered to be exemplary, in stark contrast to some bishops. Early this year, the church’s own child protection body revealed that some other dioceses were still not fully following child protection guidelines, despite repeated assurances that they were doing so.
Unlike most of his episcopal colleagues, Archbishop Martin worked in Rome during the period under investigation, but mere absence from Ireland does not explain his stance. Aside from being personally horrified at the scale of abuse, it is likely that he has realised that until every last appalling detail is in the public domain, and until it is clear that there is a new, rigorous and child-centred approach in place, the Irish church cannot hope even to begin to regain any credibility.
The scandals have revealed divisions in the Irish church, once thought of as monolithic. Some religious orders were allegedly upset that Archbishop Martin reported to the Vatican on the Ryan Commission findings without consulting them, and by his suggestion that religious orders should pay more in compensation. Some of Archbishop Martin’s priests also report feeling extremely vulnerable because of a belief that any complaint, no matter how obviously false, will result in the accused priest being asked to “step aside” from ministry, sometimes for years.
The damage to the Catholic church has been incalculable. From the beginning, there has been a heartfelt desire among Catholics to see real leadership and accountability. Many have simply walked away. Even devout Catholics are losing patience with an institution that does not seem capable of sufficient reform. At the same time, there is sympathy for the many priests who have never abused.
Whatever the internal woes of the Catholic church, the most important thing, as one clerical abuse victim, Andrew Madden, has said, is that we do not have children of today telling their stories of clerical abuse in 20 or 30 years time. While the Catholic church will never return to its former position of power in Irish society, if it is to have any credibility as a moral commentator, it will have to demonstrate that there will never be a repeat of the darkest days of the past.