Sep 10 2008
TV journalist has a calling he can’t refuse
His Sicilian station, Telejato, is dedicated to the risky business of exposing organized crime in its own backyard
PARTINICO, SICILY — Pino Maniaci should be dead. Or at least walking with an exceedingly bad limp.
He has been beaten by Mafia thugs and has pictures of his black eye to prove it. The tires of his car were slashed dozens of times, the brake lines cut. The car was burned in July. The windows of his office are routinely shattered and he gets death threats. He is under police protection.
As Mr. Maniaci sees it, the extreme attention just means he’s doing his job and doing it well. He is the owner and host of Sicily’s Telejato, which bills itself as the “World’s greatest TV station.” Its mission: Expose the bad guys.
The bad guys are the Mafiosi. Mr. Maniaci loves to name them and torment them, videotape their crimes and their arrests, and crash their get-togethers. He revels in exposing the links between the Mafia and certain politicians.
A recent show had exclusive video of the wedding of Toto Riina’s daughter, Lucia. Mr. Riina, who has been in prison since 1993, was one of the most violent and powerful bosses in Sicilian history. (Oddly, the wedding party did not prevent Telejato’s camera from entering the church, perhaps because they wanted Mr. Riina to see the event on TV.)
Another famous Telejato item, from 2006, captured the arrest of Bernardo Provenzano, the absolute boss of all Sicilian bosses at the time. When 100 or so police burst into his den near the town of Corleone, there was Mr. Maniaci, with his trademark walrus mustache, thick, geeky glasses and perennial cigarette, recording yet another exclusive for his little TV station. Police wiretaps showed that Mr. Provenzano, and other Mafiosi, were regular Telejato watchers.
Depending on whom you talk to, Mr. Maniaci – Pino to everyone who has ever heard of him – is either a courageous truth warrior or a thrill-seeking maniac.
Walter Veltroni, the former mayor of Rome turned opposition leader to the new government of Silvio Berlusconi, thinks he’s a hero. Shortly after the Pino-mobile was found torched – the carcass of the Fiat Tipo is now in the anti-Mafia museum in Corleone – Mr. Veltroni said “the fight of Pino against the Mafia is also our fight, his words are our words, his courage is our courage.”
Mr. Maniaci himself doesn’t seem sure why he does what he does, especially since he is not the only Telejato employee at risk. His wife, Patrizia, 42, is Telejato’s editor. Daughter Letizia, 23, who is admired locally for her beauty and fearless story-getting talents, is the reporter and son Giovanni, 18, is the cameraman. He feels bad sometimes for putting his family at risk, he says. “They are the real heroes.”
Telejato was launched in 1989 and was used for years as a propaganda tool by the Italian Communist Party in local elections. Mr. Maniaci, a proud old Communist himself, took the station over a decade later and used it to launch his anti-Mafia crusade. “We live in an area of Sicily surrounded by cities with a large number of Mafiosi,” he said. “But no one on TV talked about the Mafia. I decided the gap had to be covered.”
Today, Telejato claims an audience of about 150,000 in 22 local communities and negligible profits because of waning advertising. Mr. Maniaci is sure the Mafia instructs potential advertisers to boycott the station or face repercussions.
The station occupies three rooms on the second floor of an old residential building in the centre of Partinico, a town of about 30,000 in the Mafia heartland of western Sicily, not far from Palermo, the island’s capital. The rooms are filled with last-generation TV monitors and electronics, beat up desks and a huge paper-maché Pino head, which the town uses as a carnival float in honour of its most famous citizen.
Empty wine bottles and full ashtrays are everywhere. Mr. Maniaci, 55, is a three-pack-a-day man – cheap “Diana” brand are his cigarettes of choice. They give his voice a deep timbre, have yellowed his teeth and made his clothes reek of nicotine. A sign outside the recording studio reads: “When Pino is not swearing, don’t say anything because he’s recording.”
Mr. Maniaci’s days begin with a megaphone blast at 8 in the morning from his “guardian angels,” the two policeman assigned to keep their man alive. “Pin-ooo!” they yell. “Come out. Have you finished using the bidet yet?”
“They’re my morning wake-up,” Pino said. “They bust my balls at times, but they’re good guys, and anyway, I don’t have a car any more since the Mafia set fire to mine, so having a ride is always helpful.”
Mr. Maniaci’s first stop is the Café Alessi, around the corner from his studio. On one hot morning in August, he was drinking espresso with one of his many contacts while two affable but tough-looking policemen leaned idly against their cruiser. His three mobile phones rang constantly as his network of informants called in tips.
Inevitably, some of the calls are threats. “This station has given us many friends, but also many enemies,” said Patrizia, recounting the many insults hurled at the family. “But we go on all the same.”
While Telejato is best known for its Mafia stories, the environment and other issues round out the broadcasts. Telejato’s most effective campaign was against the local Bertolini distillery. It had been spewing out pollution for years and Telejato called endlessly for its closing. The distillery’s owners hit Telejato with more than 200 libel notices, all of them ignored. The distillery was finally closed when the public prosecutor’s office discovered environmental irregularities.
While Mr. Maniaci is unique among Sicilian broadcasters, he is not the only brave soul fighting the Mafia. In Palermo an organization called Addiopizzo – Goodbye pizzo – has been formed to fight the Mafia extortion tax, which is paid by most shop owners. About 300 stores refuse to pay the pizzo. The organization urges shoppers to spend their money at the stores to encourage the anti-Mafia movement.
Elsewhere in Sicily, a co-operative called Libera Terra – Free Land – has turned property seized from convicted Mafiosi into legitimate businesses, such as B&Bs and farms that produce wine, olive oil and wheat for organic pasta.
But none of the owners or employees of these businesses courts trouble like Mr. Maniaci. He is constantly asked whether he is afraid of a fatal Mafia hit. His answer is an old, arrogant Sicilian saying that, in effect, says his legacy will never disappear.
“I won’t die even if they kill me.”
TV journalist has a calling he can’t refuse – ERIC REGULY AND LORENZO TONDO – From Wednesday’s Globe and Mail – September 10, 2008 at 4:08 AM EDT – This story was found at: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080910.wmafia10/BNStory/International/home
