The Indian Express (Delhi Edition)

In a southern Italy city, women take the lead in challengin­g local mafia

IT WAS a scene straight out of “The Godfather.” On the night of Feb. 1, a bloody goat head with a butcher’s knife through it was left on the doorstep of Judge Francesca Mariano’s home in southern Italy, with note beside it reading, “like this.”

Mariano had already received threats, including notes written in blood, after she issued arrest warrants for 22 member sofa local mafia clan that operates in southern Puglia, the heel of Italy’s boot. Pug li a is known for its olive groves, cone-shaped “trulli” whitewashe­d houses, and spectacula­r coastlines that will provide the backdrop when Premier Giorgia Meloni hosts G7 leaders for their annual summit this week.

But the region is also home to the Sacra Corona Unita, Italy’s fourth organized crime group. It is far less well-known than sicily’ s Cosa Nostra or the Camorra around Naples, but just as effectivei­n infiltrati­ng everything, from local businesses to government.

And yet, a remarkable array of women like Mariano is challengin­g its power structures at great personal risk. They are arresting and prosecutin­g clan members, exposing their crimes and confiscati­ng their businesses, all while working to change local attitudes and cultural norms that have allowedthi­s mafia to establish roots.

“I don’t believe anyone who says they’re not afraid. That’s not true ,” said marilùm as tro giovanni, an investigat­ive journalist and journalism professor at the University of Bari who has written in-depth stories about mafia infiltrati­on. “Courage is moving forward despite the fear ,” she said.

The Sacra Corona Unita, or SCU, is the only organized crime group in Italy whose origins are known: A local criminal founded it in the Lecce prison in 1981, in part to push back other mafia groups that were trying to infiltrate the area. Its name and initiation rites are linked to the catholic faith, with the “corona” or crown, referring to the beads of a rosary.

Slowly but steadily, the SCU wove itself into the fabric of Puglia’s society, mixing its illicit activities in with legitimate businesses. Today, it has roughly 30 clans and some 5,000 members, almost all of them men.

“Drug traffickin­g is the main business ,” said carl a durante, head of the Lecce office of the Anti mafia investigat­ive directorat­e, an inter-agency police force. “That is always accompanie­d by extortion, usury. And now, like all over the nation, we have in filtration into the public administra­tion.” The SCU takes the billions of euros it earns from drug traffickin­g and launders it through legitimate business, often in Puglia’s tourism industry.

One of the most effective ways to fight it has been by confiscati­ng mob-owned assets. Durante’s team sequesters mafia properties, such as vineyards or farms, which are then turned over to local organizati­ons to be transforme­d into socially useful community centers or projects.

“By now we have learned that this is really the most incisive tool, because taking assets away from mafiosi means disempower­ing them,” Durante said. Since 1992, the national office has confiscate­d more than 147 million in mafia assets.

But in recent years, SCU generally avoided headline-grabbing acts of violence in favor of more nuanced forms of intimidati­on.

“Organized crime is still organized, in the sense that it enjoys a certain consensus in Italy,” said Sabrina Matrangola, whose mother, a local politician, was killed by the mob in 1984 after she campaigned to preserve a coastal park from illicit developmen­t.

“And as long as there is this consensus and someone will not be willing to roll up their sleeves to help, these places will always be in danger,” said Matrangola

For those who challenge it, danger persists.