Mario Canseco

This summer was supposed to usher in a new era for Italy. The country's presidency of the European Union (EU) began on Jul. 1, allowing prime minister Silvio Berlusconi a chance to lead the continent into the final negotiations towards the long-awaited European Constitution.

The good wishes and camaraderie lasted only one day. When Berlusconi decided to equate German socialist politician Martin Schulz with a Nazi concentration camp officer, many wondered if the media mogul deserved a broader role in Europe.

Italians have been used to their leader's off-the-cuff remarks for some time now, including his assertion in the aftermath of 9/11 that Islam was "an inferior civilization." Those exposed to the latest five-second soundbyte would be inclined to believe that Berlusconi was joking, when in fact he was striking back. Earlier, Schulz accused the Italian prime minister of changing the law at will to escape from legal troubles.

Schulz's comments were not surprising. In June, the Italian legislative branch passed an immunity law that effectively suspended Berlusconi's corruption trial, which was close to completion. The legislation shields the prime minister from any further judicial action, as long as he remains in office.

The rift between the two nations did not stop there. Days later, junior tourism minister Stefano Stefani claimed that German tourists were "supernationalist blondes who loudly invade Italy's beaches."

In a fortnight, ill-timed statements by two politicians were turning Italy's EU presidency into a running embarrassment. German chancellor Gerhard Schroeder—who had planned to spend this summer resting in Pesaro—was not amused by Stefani's musings and promptly cancelled his trip. The junior minister resigned.

A July poll by Germany's Emnid showed that 66 per cent of respondents agreed with Schroeder's decision to stay away from Italy. It is rare to find a survey where two-thirds of Germans agree with Schroeder, especially now that the country is in the middle of an economic recession, although the chancellor has so far refused to brand it as such.

Berlusconi returned to office in June 2001, after a victory for a coalition encompassing his Forza Italia party, the right-wing National Alliance and the Northern League, regarded for its anti-immigration stance. The media mogul had previously served for less than eight months in 1994 and 1995.

Without his inescapable influence in the domestic communications market, Berlusconi would have been unable to form a government. His private television empire is worth almost $8 billion U.S., and the prime minister also controls the state-owned RAI. The combination allows Berlusconi to hold a stake in all but 10 per cent of Italian broadcast offerings.

Even when the controversies created by Berlusconi's style are overlooked, his second administration has been slow to deliver. Aside from a review of highway codes and some tax reductions, reforms have been few and far between. The coalition has had its discrepancies, and important issues such as revamping the pension system and reviewing the constitution have been left off the agenda.

Delays in dealing with impending topics are affecting the public mood. This month, Berlusconi faced an overwhelmingly negative poll. His approval rating stood at 25.6 per cent, according to the survey by ISPO and AC Nielsen pubished in Corriere della Sera.

Berlusconi is waging another public battle, this time against a news magazine. The Economist recently challenged the Italian prime minister to answer 28 questions on corruption charges. The most significant tidbit is an alleged bribe paid by Berlusconi to an Italian judge, in order to influence a ruling on the sale of state-owned food producer SME. The media mogul already responded, with a lawsuit.