The Socialists Pull the Rug Out

A cartoon in Bologna's daily Resto del Carlino recently portrayed Christian Democrat Premier Aldo Moro and Communist Party Leader Enrico Berlinguer as a cozy couple on the dance floor, while Socialist Party Chief Francesco de Martino stood alone growling "Hey, I thought this was supposed to be my dance." Italian politics being what it is, the caricature contained more truth than humor. Making good on a long-hinted threat, the Socialist Party last week withdrew its parliamentary support for Moro's fragile coalition government, thereby forcing the Cabinet to resign. With Italy still deep in its worst postwar recession, the country faced the grim prospects of 1) living with another ineffectual (even minority) coalition government, or 2) elections that could give the well-organized Communist Party a share of power.

Even apart from the collapse of the government, it was a week of shocks for Italians. On the day that Socialist Leader De Martino announced his party's decision to withdraw support for the government, the New York Times and the Washington Post simultaneously printed the embarrassing story that the CIA had been authorized to give $6 million in secret aid to non-Communist Italian parties--most of it, apparently, to the ruling Christian Democrats. Then, the day after Premier Moro rode to the Palazzo del Quirinale to tender his resignation to President Giovanni Leone, millions of workers walked off the job in a general strike that shut down airports, closed most government offices and schools and slowed down sectors of industry. The workers were striking in sympathy with 200,000 civil servants who were still waiting for approval of new labor contracts that expired last year. Politicians of other parties blamed the Socialists for the chaos. "With all the unemployment, all the labor contracts pending, how can the Socialists provoke early elections and bring everything to a stop?" fumed one angry Communist official. "What a workers' party!"

Out in the Cold. The Socialists had acted to protest their increasingly powerless role in the 13-month-old Moro coalition. Always reluctant to lose protest votes by joining directly in the government, the Socialists, who have 61 seats in the Chamber of Deputies, had not accepted any Cabinet posts. All the portfolios were held by Moro's fellow Christian Democrats (267 seats) and the small right-of-center Republican Party (14).

But the coalition depended on Socialist votes in Parliament to give it a majority. As inflation soared and unemployment deepened in Italy--currently more than 1.2 million workers, or about 7% of the labor force--the Socialists found themselves accused of siding with the centrist parties in favor of unpopular deflationary policies. Meanwhile, Italy's Communists, with 179 seats in the Chamber of Deputies, could take comfortable refuge in their role as the leaders of the parliamentary opposition.

Socialist unease grew after last June's regional elections, when Communists took a startling 33% of the vote. Anxious Christian Democrats began a series of behind-the-scenes accommodations with Communists, to such an extent that the Socialists felt left out in the cold. The most provocative issue was Christian Democratic consultation with the Communists about a $33 billion economic redevelopment program. Though the Socialists were officially allied with the government, De Martino complained in a letter to Moro that "I have to read about [the program] in the paper." Worse yet, the plan would have left the administration of Italy's biggest venture yet in economic planning to a ministerial committee on which the Socialists were not to be represented. The Socialists, in effect, complained that the Christian Democrats and the Communists had a tacit arrangement to run the country, which nevertheless allowed the Communists to avoid any responsibility or blame for things that might go wrong.

Public Embrace. After De Martino announced that his party could no longer support Moro's coalition, the Socialists formally demanded the creation of a "government of national emergency" with powers to change economic policy and solve Italy's urgent problems. More significantly, the Socialists asked that the Communists openly support any new government "in the light of the sun."

The Christian Democrats rejected the Socialist scenario immediately. They particularly objected to the demand that the Communists should formalize their tacit support of the government. Reason: it would fuel voter fears that the Christian Democrats were on the verge of accepting the compromesso stbrico--"the historic compromise" in which the Communists would come into government as partners of the Christian Democrats. Meanwhile, Communist Party Boss Berlinguer thinks that a public embrace would be premature, and perhaps might invite a right-wing backlash.

President Leone last week asked Moro's Cabinet to remain temporarily in office in caretaker status. This week, he will begin the ritual consultations with various party politicians in an effort to form a new government. De Martino, responding to labor-union fury over early elections, allowed at week's end that the Socialists would "evaluate and consider" counterproposals to their demands, but the hope is nevertheless dim. Conceivably, Moro, or some other Christian Democratic leader, could try to rule with a new minority government, but it would probably fail its first parliamentary test. Worse, it would only postpone any real attempt to solve Italy's urgent problems.

The most disconcerting prospect is that Leone will give up trying, dissolve Parliament and call for early elections, which normally would not occur until the spring of 1977. That would please the Socialists--who hope thereby to seize center stage from the Communists --but no one else. The Christian Democrats, who hoped to work on some internal reforms at a March congress, have not yet improved their image enough to face confidently an early test at the polls. The Communists are still consolidating their regional gains of last June, and believe that elections at this point could undermine the quiet beginnings of the historic compromise already reached.

The much-publicized CIA money is not likely to play much of a part in funding any election campaigns. The $6 million authorized by the Administration for handouts to Italian moderates is small change compared with past contributions to Italian parties by U.S. corporations, labor unions and other sources--"A bottle of Scotch at Christmas from Uncle Sam," as one diplomat put it. (It is also considerably less than the $27 million the Contmunists reportedly received from the Soviet embassy for campaign expenses in the 1972 general election.) Anti-Communist Italian politicians testily denied that any CIA contributions were--or would be--accepted. The Republican Party went so far as to cable the New York Times demanding a retraction. Some Italian politicians were dismayed that the Ford Administration did not simply issue a categorical denial of any plans for secret funding. Not only did the revelations play into the hands of the Communists--they can now use the CIA issue to discredit moderates in future elections --but whatever funds do exist are, for the time being, obviously off limits. No prudent Italian politician would think of accepting any money now, for fear that his face might appear the next day in some American newspaper.

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