4 - How Italians taught Britons to laugh

Prof. Lucio Sponza examines the wave of immigration to the United Kingdom

They defied the metallic cold of these regions as far back as the early decades of the 19th century, arriving where the sea has the colour of steel and in winter the waves freeze on the rocks, creating ice sculptures. Lombards, Emilians and Tuscans were the first to set foot on the white cliffs of Dover. Some of them settled in southern England; other pushed north to Hadrian's Wall and beyond. Yet more continued beyond Craster, in the vicinity of Edinburgh, an outpost in the Scottish Highlands where fishermen smoke herrings and whiskey has the flavour of peat. They did not simply trade; they imported a mindset, made of fantasy and realism.
"Those from Como," says Lucio Sponza, professor at Westminster University and author of several books on Italian immigration to Britain, "sold barometers and thermometers that they themselves built; they required just a few drops of mercury in a glass pipe. People from Piacenza and Parma began as pedlars and storytellers, then took up the most diverse jobs, and finally, relying on their solid gastronomic tradition, they opened the first Italian-style public houses. Those from Lucca made and sold gypsum statuettes, which were a success among the British. That was essentially an immigration from northern Italy, and this state of things went on until World War II."
In the late Fifties, Rome and London reached an agreement to fill the ranks of the British industries brought to their knees by the war. The point was to rebuild the factories destroyed in the bombings, and to resume operations. There was an urgency, as those factories had been a pillar of British economy since the 18th century. So, peasants from southern Italy boarded the trains to Calais, and after landing in Dover those to Swansea, Bedford, and Peterborough, bound for steel mills and brick factories. Many spent their entire working life there; other people, after mastering the language, took up trading, importing foodstuff from Italy or even producing them "the Italian way". For instance, pastries and ice cream, which won the hearts - and the taste buds - of the British.
"They managed to integrate in British society in a short time," continues Prof. Sponza, "and they entered, often as protagonists, almost every profession and art. Almost all of them, because politics never attracted Italians living in Britain. They never were refused by the British, because in general they were exemplary citizens, respecting the rules of this country. In short, there was no intolerance against them, also because in the late Forties there was a massive immigration of Caribbean, Indian and Pakistani people, who monopolized the attention of politicians and citizens for the social pressure that they exerted and the cultural dynamics that they sparked. Our community became, so to speak, invisible."
This country gave Italians a present and a future. But what did it get in exchange? "Ice cream" replies Prof. Sponza. "Ice cream as a metaphor for the joy of living. The leaden Britons sorely needed some. There is literature on the carts of Italians, selling ice cream to children and adults, especially in tourist resort. Also on candy stores and joyous Italian trattorie that slowly replaced noisy pubs. Joy and noise are not synonyms: joy is always sunny, Mediterranean, it is happiness; noise is often sad, and even more often it is just noise. Well, Italians taught Britons how to laugh."
One of Sponza's best-selling books is Divided Loyalties: Italians in Britain During the Second World War.
Transferring that idea to peacetime, how does the double loyalty of Italian-British people manifest itself?
"In a spontaneous, natural way. Of course we are talking of first-generation immigrants, because this problem does not even exist for their children and grandchildren, British from every standpoint. For instance, these Italians like the efficiency of the British administration, but do not give up the idea of returning to Italy some day, even if they know that nothing like it can be found back there. This is not about nostalgia, as could be the case somewhere else; it's about loyalty. Nostalgia is the feeling of those who lost something irretrievable. Our people in Britain did not lose Italy. Nobody asked them to renounce it, nor forced them to."
What will be the effect of the right to vote abroad on these people?
"Somehow, it will bring them closer to Italy. However, I must add that it would be more reasonable to vote for candidates in the country where one lives. I think that the problem is less felt in Europe than overseas."
What do you mean, Professor?
"In Europe, Italy is inevitably closer, and not only in a geographic sense. Think of the elections for the European Parliament, for instance. In Britain, Italians can vote either for British candidates or for Italians. Also, think of British local elections, not linked to citizenship. Voters do not need to be subjects of Her Majesty; the only condition is to live here. What I mean is that Italians do not feel like foreigners here, even from the standpoint of voting. Matters are different for Italians living on the other side of the ocean. To them, not being allowed to vote abroad really meant being deprived of a right."
Can this right be knowingly exerted even if one does not take active part in the life of the country one is voting for? Do you think that Italians living abroad have a sufficient degree of knowledge of Italy's situation?
"I don't know the situation elsewhere, but I know all too well that the overwhelming majority of Italians living in Britain is totally uninterested in Italian public life, and therefore knows very little about Italian politics. However, if one were to limit voting rights based on this ignorance, the same should be done for many Italians who live in Italy and yet know little if anything about the parliamentary life in that country."

Publication Date: 2002-08-04
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=1656