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On the surface Verona exists very contentedly as a rich and beautiful city enjoying a charmed life in an auspicious position, near a lake, mountains and a fertile plain. Such privilege has bred complacency and the city is seen as being pompous and cold. In Italy’s south, Verona is the one northern city which above all others is laughed at and hated in equal measure. A conservative attitude to life has served Verona well for thousands of years: there is almost no new architecture in the city centre and traditions are held in high esteem. But well hidden beneath the glossy marble veneer of middle class Verona there are tensions created by a conservative opposition to change; contradictions and uncertainties about the future of a city which lives somewhat awkwardly off both its past and its present. And while the city benefits economically from its position in Europe – both touristically and commercially – there is a reluctance to accept the idea of European unity, even at the level of decisions by the European Court of Justice. While Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi attempts to pass legislation giving immunity to prosecution for all parliamentarians, including himself, and continues to fight extradition to Spain, Verona’s university is at the centre of a now infamous, and typically Italian, battle against corruption and discrimination. Scot David Petrie, an English language lecturer at the university, started his long legal battle against the Italian State in the 1990s. Working at the University of Verona as a self-employed teacher since 1984, Petrie realized that he was doing the same job as Italians but without the same benefits or prospects. The Italian system barred foreign lecturers from receiving insurance contributions and from applying for certain posts. To Petrie and others it was clear the university was in breach of fundamental European anti-discrimination laws guaranteeing freedom of movement for workers and mutual recognition of qualifications. With support from Scottish MEP Hugh McMahon, Petrie took 65 students and lecturers (including writer Tim Parks) from the University of Verona to the European Parliament in Strasbourg and petitioned the then president, Egon Klepsch. The response of Verona University was to try to ‘disappear’ the complainants. Names were withdrawn from internal phone books and from the official website, and 13 teachers were moved into a basement office with only two desks. On 13 July 1995, in an emergency debate in Strasbourg, the European Parliament passed a resolution criticizing Verona for human rights abuses. It remains the only Italian institution ever to have been condemned in this way. Petrie has now won an unprecedented four EU decisions at the European Court of Justice on the basis of freedom of movement, each one more damning than the last. The story has had massive international coverage, including the front pages of the Wall Street Journal and the Times Educational Supplement, but still the Italian State continues to avoid compliance. The saga has become something of a test case for the rights of European workers, and of the ability of the European Union to enforce European law. The latest ruling threatened Italy with massive fines for every day that they did not comply. Petrie, the 400 or so members of the union he set up for foreign lecturers in Italy and many international observers await the Italians’ response. Illustrating the tensions between tradition and modernity from a different angle is an issue which has taken up many hours of heated conversation over coffee in the city recently. It concerns the banchetti (stalls) in piazza Erbe. Superficially trivial, the debate is a microcosm of modern Veronese problems. The place of commerce in the modern city is an ambiguous one. It is common to hear the tutting of Veronesi at the ‘tatty’ exteriors of some of the city’s buildings and there is a risk that gentrification will detract from the city’s spirit. Still to be found on many postcards, the old market in the piazza had distinctive large shady umbrellas which had become one of Verona’s visual trademarks. Sitting as it did on the site of the original Roman forum, the market had historical roots that went very deep. The argument against the stalls was that they had become unsightly, were poorly maintained and selling cheap tourist tat which lowered the tone of the area. In actual fact the market sold a mixture of fruit and vegetables, snack food, and various other bits and pieces, including tacky souvenirs. The market was removed, leaving a newly gleaming piazza where it was suddenly easier to appreciate the beauty of the place and its surrounding buildings. Piazza delle Erbe, however, had lost some of its heart. The solution eventually agreed by the city council was to make new stalls which would be removed at weekends. However, the logistics of how this would be achieved were not properly thought through. The Arena, the local paper, reported that when the first stall reappeared, its tenant was almost certain to be Tina Vitale, Tina dei carciofi (Tina of the artichokes), ‘true and proper flag’ of the stall-holders. In the event, when the first stall finally appeared, it sold Venetian masks, naked lady cigarette lighters and ‘Romeo loves Giulietta’ baseball caps. Tina and her artichokes were nowhere to be seen.
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