- From The Economist print edition
Publicado em 16.01.2009 Jan 22nd 2009 | SÃO PAULO
The madness of asylum
Fugitives from justice in Brazil
Why this indulgence for a convicted killer?
WITH its extensive opportunities for committing fresh
indiscretions and its giant statue of Christ extending limitless
redemption, Rio de Janeiro is an attractive place in which to live
as a fugitive from justice. Claude Rains elegantly hid out there in
one of Alfred Hitchcock’s best films. Ronald Biggs, having robbed a
mail train in 1963, swapped a British prison for Copacabana
beach—and was more envied than vilified as a result. Now Cesare
Battisti, an Italian thriller-writer who was once a member of a
group called Armed Proletarians for Communism, has joined the list
after Brazil granted him refugee status.
Before he came to Rio, Mr Battisti enjoyed a comfortable exile in
France. Italy and France have long argued, in the way only
neighbours can, about the number of once-violent Italian activists
who have settled in Paris. Last year the French government refused
to extradite Marina Petrella, a former Red Brigades terrorist (Carla
Bruni, the president’s wife, went to Mrs Petrella’s hospital bed to
give her the good news). Italy’s government had hoped Brazil would
be more helpful. But its protests have been met with a snort from
President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, of the sort reserved for
occasions when he thinks a more developed country is telling Brazil
what to do.
Mr Battisti was convicted in absentia of killing two policemen in
Italy in the late 1970s. He was also found guilty of taking part in
the murder of a butcher, and of helping to plan that of a jeweller (shot
in front of his 14-year-old son). Mr Battisti denies these charges,
but there is little doubt in Italy that his trial was fair.
Brazil’s reasons for protecting Mr Battisti are unconvincing. The
justice minister, Tarso Genro, referred to his country’s tradition
of harbouring political exiles, ranging from Alfredo Stroessner, a
particularly nasty ex-dictator (of Paraguay), to Olivério Medina, an
ex-guerrilla (in Colombia). Now that democracy is the norm in the
Americas, that tradition is anachronistic. Mr Genro also seems to
think that Mr Battisti was convicted of political crimes, rather
than plain murder.
Two sentiments underlie Mr Genro’s reticence. One is Brazil’s
reluctance to examine its own past. Whenever the question of an
inquiry into the military government of 1964-85 arises, it is
quickly squashed (unlike similar demands in Argentina or Chile). The
second sentiment, that of solidarity, is to be found among some
members of Lula’s party who were far-left militants in the 1970s. In
Italy, which lost a former prime minister to the Red Brigades and
had a government adviser murdered as recently as 2002 by its
imitators, attitudes are much less indulgent.
