Evicted From Eternity_ The Restructuring of Modern Rome - Michael Herzfeld [151]
Thus, if the contribution of the carabinieri to processes of collusion is procedural rather than mischievous, its stately pace thus serving as one of the props of a reputation for relative incorruptibility, the city police repre sent a very different image. Locals expect them to be corrupt, a reputation that would presumably favor their ability to exert pressure for small bribes on weak shopkeepers and artisans. One greengrocer, furious because the vigili had fined him 420,000 lire merely because a box of tangerines lacked a price label, described them as an "authorized system of theft ... an authorized mafia," decrying their use of plainclothes agents as an unfair stratagem. But he had also learned to live with their rhythms. Having on one occasion been fined for placing crates of produce on the sidewalk all day long, he compromised by putting the crates out only for two or three hours a day, while also surreptitiously keeping his shop open during afternoon hours when he was supposed to have closed; these more discrete infractions were apparently tolerated, without any demand for bribes and also without any further interference. In this case, the merchant had managed to gain a small advantage simply by discretely scaling down his infraction. Had the officers been bent on extortion, he had reduced the possible gain to them beyond anything worth the risk; if their intention was instead to enforce an approximate legality, he had helped them reach an administratively, socially, and culturally appropriate compromise.
There have been accusations of partiality aplenty. Under the city force's former management, which was sympathetic to the left wing of Italian politics, plans had been drawn up for a systematic investigation of all illegal uses of public space. With reform, however, came an unexpected and dramatic shift to the Right. The new officers were allegedly more sympathetic to a restaurateur considered to be the worst offender. Instead of pursuing every possible violator of the laws regarding the uses of public space, I was told, they created a list of the ten worst cases, then informed this restaurateur that he was number eleven! Nothing further happened.
The opportunities open to city police for pursuing petty kickbacks and favors are certainly both legion and legendary, although we should beware of an element of exaggeration in what citizens who have been caught out in such deals have to say about the matter; it is also sometimes hard to distinguish between complaints about bureaucratic precision and cases of actual extortion. Some citizens, moreover, interpret the pressure tactics as a way of getting what these underpaid officials have a moral right to expect. Others, while acknowledging that entirely human response, nevertheless accuse officials of quite unnecessary rudeness and malevolence, describing how they point their fingers, increasing their hints with the number of real or imaginary violations they claim to have spotted. If the merchant is humble in response, this is interpreted as a sign of weakness, leading to ever more outrageous demands. In some cases, the city police have managed to close down entire establishments for a while; when the doors reopen, locals assume that some more substantial bribe has now been rendered.
Such tactics are necessarily indirect but, locals claim, unmistakable; "they like collecting fear with their eyes." When they are not dropping crude hints about infractions deserving huge but avoidable fines, police officers may also drop in on merchants during the festive Christmas season with expressions of goodwill-but "it is always in a form of extortion." Sometimes, too, they will use a jocose form of Romanesco to cushion their hints: "Can't we even joke at all?" (Nun se po manco scherzo?) a pair of city policemen pathetically demanded of a restorer (in another