13 - The Arrival of a Future Ruling Class

Caracas daily La Voce D'Italia fights for rights of Italian Immigrants in Venezuela

The defeat of Adua (1896), where the Abyssinians destroyed the army of General Oreste Baratieri, governor of Eritrea, and thus won the first Italian-Ethiopian War, burned in the hearts of many for a long time. The colonial policy of Francesco Crispi, which had been approved by King Hubert I, was indicted along with the errors of Baratieri, who had stubbornly insisted in pursuing vengeance for the previous year's massacre at Amba Alagi, not foreseeing that the troops led by Ras Mangascià would join with those of Negus Menelik at Adowa.
The century closed amidst furious controversies in the press and in Parliament, while the street rallies followed one another and strikes rocked the country. Adowa had put an end to the African dream of thousands of unemployed people who hoped to find in East Africa the job they couldn't get at home. However, they did not give up: they crowded the piers of Naples and Genoa and left. They were mostly bound for the United States, Brazil and Argentina, but some of them stopped in Venezuela.
Oil had not yet been discovered, and the country had an economy based on agriculture. Most of the bold emigrants from Italy were peasants, so set easily to plant orchards, cultivate cocoa and coffee, and raise cattle. They were pioneers, not only because they introduced new agricultural techniques, but also because they were the vanguard of the Italian immigration to Venezuela.
Not that there were many of them. The figures would grow larger and larger after World War II, when Venezuela became a frequent choice for those who looked for a job overseas. They came mostly from Abruzzi, but there were also Sicilians, Apulians, Campanians, Lucanians, and Friulians, exhausted after a bloody military and civil war. They sailed from Genoa and Naples in increasing numbers, and became a crowd. Most were adults, but many were children, such as Giuseppe Giannetto, today the rector of the Central University of Venezuela; or Egidio Romano, who currently manages the Venezuelan Research Institute, the country's most important scientific organization; or Bruno Teodori, nowadays the principal of the prestigious Italian school Agustin Cudazzi in Caracas; or Antonio Costante, who is now one of the most successful theatre directors of Venezuela. Those ships carried the future ruling class of the country.
There also was a young Abruzzese journalist, who had participated in the Resistance and collaborated with Il Messaggero, Gaetano Bafile. He pursued two objectives: telling the stories of the Italian enclave growing in Venezuela, and turning the weekly he had founded in 1949, soon after his arrival in Caracas, into a daily newspaper. He achieved the former right away, boldly and stubbornly maintaining his course ever since. The latter came 50 years later, on January 25, 1999, the day when La Voce d'Italia, his baby, became a daily.
The primary role played by La Voce d'Italia in Venezuela is proven by the numerous honours bestowed unto Gaetano Bafile (among them the Orden del Libertador, the highest recognition of this country, and the Premio Nacional de Periodismo, a sort of Venezuelan Pulitzer); but also by the quality of the well-wishing messages received on the occasion of the transformation to a daily: from the President of Venezuela, from Foreign Minister Miguel Angel Burelli Rivas (Italian-Venezuelan: his letter was handwritten in Italian), and from personalities of culture and economy, in addition to messages from Italy's President, Foreign Minister and Ambassador to Caracas.
La Voce d'Italia has been a very visible presence. Gaetano Bafile is generous with his memories; he recalls these past 50 years with incredible lucidity and he has also collected them in a book, Green Passport, that achieved great success. Bafile talks a lot of borderline episodes that had Italian protagonists, welcomed with open arms by Venezuelan authorities for the labour they represented, but often dealt swiftly with by the nosy Seguridad Nacional of dictator Marcos Pèrez Jimenez. "So many times," says Bafile, "we barely managed to avoid cases like Sacco and Vanzetti's."
Such as when two young immigrants from Potenza, Antonio Bellusci and Pasquale Zaffarano, were arrested under charges of plotting against the State, and then tried and sentenced to forced labour in the hell of Guyana. "They had nothing to do with the charges," says Bafile. "Their only misfortune was to be walking home along a street where demonstrators and police were clashing."
How did it end? "We prepared a massive report that resonated even in Italy," says Bafile. "We ascertained that the two guys had nothing to do with the clashes, and on February 21, 1961, when Zaffarano and Bellusci had resigned themselves to their fate, the President of Venezuela, Romulo Betancourt, put an end to their unjust predicament."
The textbooks of the Faculty of Social Communication of the Central University of Venezuela reproduce the interview that Gaetano Bafile carried out with Como-born trauma expert Alessandro Beltramini, accused of being an agent of international communism. That interview, now the subject of study because of its professional rigour and courage (Beltramini was in jail and the police watched his and Bafile's every move), managed to highlight Beltramini's true nature, which was very far from the monster described by the Seguridad. His exceptional scoop raised a wave of protests all over the world, and one month later the physician from Como reacquired his freedom.
The change from weekly to daily publication was not an easy one. It required financial infusions (brought by two new partners, construction entrepreneur Amedeo Di Ludovico and chartered accountant Vincenzo Ranzetti, both running profitable companies) and structural investments (the renovation of the premises on Avenida Andres Bello and a complete modernization of the machinery). With this change, the publication also secured a distribution partnership with Corriere della Sera; every day the 24-page foreign edition is sent to Caracas, printed in Bafile's print shop and sold on stands with La Voce d'Italia.
The transformation also means something else: it hints at the existence of a market. In Venezuela, second- and third-generation immigrants are closer to Italy than it seems.
"To begin with, young Italian-Venezuelans have mid to high education," says Giuseppe Giannetto, Sicilian, rector of the Central University, one of the children who came here on a ship. "Just think that out of 50,000 students in my university, eight percent has an Italian heritage. That's a large number. These kids prefer sciences and have a good command of our language that they learned in high school and in private schools. They keep constant contact with Italy because they go there on vacation or visit their relatives or even because, after graduating here, to perfect their training in Italian universities."
Where do they fit in Venezuelan society? "The Italians are the strongest foreign community here," says Giannetto, "so the answer to your question is obvious. Italians are everywhere and almost always at top levels in politics, economy, and culture. The children are strengthening what their parents built. There is even a curious aspect in this."
Such as? "The Italian language is not being studied by Italian-Venezuelans only, but also by young people belonging to other ethnic groups. Do you know why? Because we succeeded, and speaking the language of successful people is trendy. Another reason is that Italy exerts an indisputable charm upon everyone. It is always a pleasant surprise, at least for me, when I find a foreigner speaking the language of my country of origin."
So, the daily publication of La Voce d'Italia turns out to be more than the objective of an obstinate dreamer: a marketing operation to occupy newly opened spaces. Naturally, then, the Italian-Venezuelan Centre in Caracas organized a tribute to Gaetano Bafile. Over 1,000 people participated in the gala.
During the event, one of the best known journalists of La Voce d'Italia, Giuseppe Domingo, remembered his first encounter with the editor, whom he asked what he should do to become a journalist.
"If you have something to say, write it," replied Bafile. The editor himself, listening to the old tale, had tears in his old eyes.

Publication Date: 2002-10-20
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=1898