In Sicilian politics, a kiss is usually just a kiss. There were plenty to go around last week as Sicily's regional President, Salvatore Cuffaro, hit the campaign trail ahead of his re-election bid this Sunday. During a morning presentation of his policy platform, the stout and smiling 48-year-old was sharing two-cheek kisses with almost every supporter who passed through campaign headquarters. Later, he arrived at the poorly-equipped Villa Sofia Hospital in northern Palermo to pledge four new outpatient beds for a multiple sclerosis treatment center. The 100 or so patients and family members assembled in the steamy third-floor corridor were a bit testy with the late-in-the-race promises, but Cuffaro cooled them down and eventually planted baci on the cheeks of various doctors, nurses, patients and even the woman sweeping the neurology department entryway (with her broom still in hand). This, says Cuffaro, is the heart and bones of his approach to politics. "It's the duty of the President of Sicily to meet with all Sicilians," he told Time. "Over the years, I've probably met 50% of the citizens of this region, personally and half of those I've kissed!"
But according to Sicilian prosecutors, not all of the jovial pol's human contacts have been so innocent. The former radiologist is on trial for charges of allegedly aiding the Mafia. Investigators say the regional President tipped off an acquaintance that his conversations were being bugged by police in an ongoing probe into the network providing insider tips to Cosa Nostra's boss of bosses, Bernardo Provenzano. Cuffaro denies any wrongdoing or Mafia ties, and has refused calls by opponents to forego his run for a second five-year term. During an interview at his storefront Palermo headquarters with some 25 aides and supporters crammed into his office to look on Cuffaro brushed off suggestions that he should pay closer attention to the company he keeps: "If I have the chance to shake the hand of every Sicilian, even with the risk of shaking the wrong hand, it's a risk I'm prepared to take."
The perennial Mafia question is once again at the center of an election campaign to lead the semi-autonomous region of 5 million people. The vote comes just seven weeks after Provenzano was captured by police in the hills near his hometown of Corleone, following four decades on the lam. And beyond that high-profile arrest, and Cuffaro's legal cloud, there is a center-left challenger whose very presence offers a stark reminder of organized crime's grip on this complicated island. Cuffaro's rival is Rita Borsellino, 60, the sister of Paolo Borsellino, a prominent magistrate who was killed by the Mafia in 1992 when his parked car was blown to pieces. The slaying of Borsellino and his five bodyguards came just three months after his friend and prosecutor colleague Giovanni Falcone met the same fate on a highway bridge near the Palermo airport (now named Falcone-Borsellino, like so many streets and piazzas across Sicily).
The twin attacks sparked an unprecedented public outcry, led by ordinary Sicilian women who hung white sheets from their balcony railings bearing a single word: basta (enough). Strolling the colorful streets of Palermo today, one sees a new outbreak of draped sheets that simply read: rita for president. The message driving the challenger's campaign couldn't be clearer. "We need to break with the past," Borsellino told Time. "We have a system based on pure political patronage that makes people think they have to go ask 'Please' for something that should be their right." She believes there is a fundamental link between low-level favor swapping and Cosa Nostra's firm hold on Sicily. "Patronage is illegality," she said. "The Mafia's relationship with the economic and political world has slowed development, and impoverished Sicily." Borsellino says her opponent's decision to run despite the Mafia charges "sends a very bad message" to Sicilians.
Cuffaro, a longtime Christian Democrat party stalwart, has tried to steer debate away from the Mafia. "Borsellino is an upstanding person," he says. "But she's there because she's a symbol, and Sicilians won't vote for someone who is just a symbol." In last month's national elections, won narrowly by the center-left's Romano Prodi, Sicily sided with the center-right. Last week, the final polls allowed to be published before the regional showdown showed Cuffaro with a five-point advantage. Orazio Marra, a Palermo taxi driver, will vote for the incumbent, opting for his political experience and reserving judgment on the Mafia ties until the trial is over. "We have other problems to worry about," he said. "Borsellino seems like a sheep surrounded by wolves."
Still, few deny the Mafia's unique grip on Sicilian society. Across the region, and stretching up to Rome, the Mafia has long been adept at playing politics applying both hard and soft tactics. Over the years, gangsters have intermittently gunned down crusading lawmakers, priests and magistrates, but more often Cosa Nostra looks to forge secret (and peaceful) links with the political establishment.
The most shocking allegation of such collusion was, in fact, embodied in an alleged kiss. Italy's former seven-time Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti faced a series of trials in the 1990s in which one witness claimed that he had exchanged a kiss of respect with then Mafia "boss of bosses" Salvatore Riina. Andreotti, who is currently a Senator for Life, was definitively absolved of the charges, and there was never any corroborating evidence of the smooch. More recently, Italian Senator Marcello Dell'Utri, one of former center-right Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi's closest aides, was convicted and sentenced to nine years in prison for colluding with Cosa Nostra. Dell'Utri, who is free while appealing the decision, denies any wrongdoing and was re-elected to the Senate last month. Palermo prosecutor Antonio Ingroia says the lack of national outrage over the case signifies a popular acquiescence in the idea that crime and politics are linked. "Italy is a strange country," he told Time. "In any other Western country, there would have been at least a vigorous debate. Here, practically not a word."
Still, a group of young Sicilians have been making some noise. Addio Pizzo (Goodbye Pizzo) is a movement launched in 2004 to combat the pizzo, or regular extortion fees, the Mafia extracts from an estimated 80% of the island's store owners. The group publishes the names of the stores that have resisted extortion, hoping that such publicity will encourage consumers to shop at them. With unemployment in Sicily at 16%, the Mafia must be defeated not just for moral, but also economic reasons, says Francesco Bertolino, 28, who owns a small ceramic-restoration business. And his region's President? "Look," says Bertolino. "I don't think Cuffaro is mafioso he's not the one demanding the pizzo. But he represents the face of so many Sicilians who silently accept this criminal system." Cuffaro would surely dispute Bertolino's description, but he'd doubtless kiss him just the same.