While Provenzano was digesting this disaster, Brusca, having made a show of pledging his loyalty, seemed to be acting on his own again. He refused to accept that he could not get any business in Bagheria – although he had never, by his own admission, been a part of that family, and he knew it was a closed shop.
The only way to prevent Brusca causing further damage, Giuffré concluded in his coldly calculating manner, would be to get rid of him. Obviously murdering Riina’s godson was likely to be an unpopular proposition, and Riina, though in prison, must still be respected. But Giuffré remembered something Riina had said that made him think he might not stand in his way. Brusca had been demanding the right to collect extortion money on another mafioso’s territory. Giuffré and Riina were discussing the protection rackets at a meeting in Palermo when Riina made a sardonic remark. ‘The colt is beginning to paw the ground.’
Giuffré took this as explicit permission to get rid of the ‘colt’, adding that Riina never did like to show favouritism (on the contrary, he had never shown any compunction about killing friends and allies). But Provenzano did not buy Giuffré’s rationalization and would not give permission for Brusca’s murder, however much he would have liked to. He had other ideas for revenge.
‘I wouldn’t wish to cause trouble,’ Giuffré said years later in his gravelly drawl, ‘but if I was determined to think the worst of some people, I would say Provenzano was convinced that, as soon as Brusca was arrested, he would collaborate, and his thinking was, Brusca knows next to nothing about me.’
Brusca was in love with the power, the sudden wealth and the football star lifestyle that Cosa Nostra could offer. A gruff, greedy individual, he had a surprising weakness for comfort and expensive clothes. Provenzano figured that, as soon as the prison door clanged behind him, he would be a prime candidate for collaboration.
Brusca as an informer on the opposition: the prospect made him worth more to Provenzano alive than dead. It was, as Giuffré describes it, a case of particularly sharp far-sightedness. Brusca was duly arrested in May 1996 while watching a TV film about the assassination of Giovanni Falcone. And within a few months he did indeed collaborate.
There was a kind of morbid fascination, a compulsive repulsion, about the fat, bearded monster who had killed judge Falcone. In the early days of his collaboration Brusca told untruths and half-truths, and demonstrated a high-minded amorality. He said he was disgusted with the organization; no one followed the rules any more. ‘I felt betrayed as a mafioso. Not guilty for what I had done.’
Magistrates who questioned him in the early weeks found an understandable reticence on some particularly hot topics, and anything concerning his father, but in general his memory of events was clear and well ordered. They also revealed that the man known as ‘the Pig’ scoffed biscuits between sessions.
Brusca’s motive for betraying Cosa Nostra, his godfather and his own father, was his betrayal at Riina’s hand. Brusca had read, in the confessions of another mafioso, that Riina had been angry with him for going behind his back on a drug deal, and had threatened to kill him.
Riina had known him since he was a child; his father had taken in Riina’s whole family in times of trouble. ‘This revelation made me so angry and upset, he might as well have killed me. I had lived in the cult of Riina, but from one day to the next he turned to dust before my eyes.’
Brusca, like so many others, would get his revenge. But in the meantime Provenzano faced another challenge. Vito Vitale, a young blood from Partinico, considered himself the natural successor of Riina and had no time for the old-style capos. He and his brother used to make a mockery of Provenzano’s pious phraseology. He was a violent, hot-tempered man nearly thirty years Provenzano’s junior, whose murderous talent was attracting a group of like-minded youths. He did not wait for permission to kill. He shot Nené Geraci, the patriarch of Partinico, whose position he had already usurped, on Riina’s orders. He also got hold of a rocket launcher with which he intended to blow up the prosecutor Alfonso Sabella.
Provenzano heard rumours that Vitale was planning to take over the Mafia fiefdom of San Giuseppe Iato by executing any men loyal to Brusca and Balduccio Di Maggio. He wrote to a local mafioso in his steeliest tone: ‘They tell me a certain Vitale from Partinico has been hanging around town. What is Vitale doing in San Giuseppe Iato?’
Provenzano also happened to know that Di Maggio had returned in secret to his home town and assembled a small and heavily armed force to settle some old scores. Provenzano, assuming that the pentito might also settle a new score, didn’t try to stop him.
But before any of his enemies could get to him, Vitale was arrested. Provenzano, without using a gun, had seen off his last challenger. His circle of trusted allies was getting smaller, but they were men who understood what he was trying to do, who would work with him to accomplish his mission.
‘After the arrest of Vito Vitale,’ said Giuffré, ‘Provenzano, Benedetto Spera and I had the field to ourselves. Provenzano set out to get Cosa Nostra under his control and make up for lost time.’
10
A management handbook for the aspiring Mafia boss
A
FTER TOTÒ RINA’S arrest Bernardo Provenzano was the unifying force that brought Cosa Nostra back from the brink of disaster. His followers within the organization bewailed the mistakes of the recent past, the policy of violence which had caused so much damage. ‘Our toy is broken!’ wailed Pino Lipari, Provenzano’s long-term friend and business strategist.
The ‘toy’had to be fixed. After taking over sole leadership Provenzano made his mission statement: ‘We must do business’.24 Anything that threatened the profit-making activities of Cosa Nostra had to be avoided. Provenzano set about halting arrests, restoring links in politics and business and reviving a culture of Cosa Nostra which had been lost.
His is an extraordinary achievement, based on his personal charisma and tactical skill, from which business leaders worldwide could learn much. The fact that he wrote his reforms by letter, means that we have what amounts to a manual of how to run a criminal organization, a steadily accumulating constitution.
Submersion
‘Whatever the provocation, in the light of the current political situation we can’t risk any armed conflict, we have to let it go. And if you hold your fire, in five, or maybe seven years’ time the benefits will be felt by all our friends, we’ll be able to do business again and overcome our present economic difficulties.’
In the mid-1990s Provenzano held a meeting at which he told his capos that if they followed his directives, their profits would eventually be restored. It could take years, he told them – no small matter for an organization accustomed to easy money. Provenzano gave his orders – non fare scruscio: ‘make no noise’.
He took the organization below the radar of public security, ordering his men to avoid any kind of publicity, which meant no acts of violence. The policy of blowing up representatives of the state had caused so much collateral damage that Provenzano had to make urgent repairs. He wrote to Ilardo: ‘We have many enemies who assail us, from outside and from within, but we must try to recover what we can.’
‘We instigated a period of submersion, whose aim was to make Cosa Nostra invisible, giving us time to regroup’, his lieutenant Nino Giuffré recalls.
From now on, before any act of violence could be carried out, there had to be a thorough appraisal of its usefulness. ‘As far as Provenzano was concerned,’ Giuffré said, ‘it was essential to weigh up whether a person could do more damage dead or alive.’ A magistrate investigating Cosa Nostra might do more harm as an ‘excellent cadaver’ than if he were allowed to do his job.
Cosa Nostra has historically used long periods of ‘submersion’ to secure its interests and stop a run of arrests. Unless Provenzano brought about radical change, there would not be a politician or businessman left who would be prepared to risk working with them. But his ambitions exceeded the Mafia’s previous dealings with industry.
‘The philosophy of submersion had the very clear aim of helping the organization cross over into running businesses’, said assistant prosecutor Nino Di Matteo. ‘The lines between Cosa Nostra’s profit-making activities and legitimate business had to be blurred, or erased. It would no longer be forcing businesses to pay kickbacks; it would be running those businesses itself.’
In politics, the Mafia must not be seen to support candidates openly, or they risked ruining their chances. They were to approach apparently clean politicians and manipulate them from behind the scenes.
‘Provenzano said that if a politician was seen to be supported by men of honour of a certain rank,’ Giuffré explained, ‘within twenty-four hours he’d be destroyed. That politician, our experience had taught us, would immediately be attacked by the opposition.’
Discipline was needed among the capos, who had been used to solving problems by sending in the boys to damage building sites and greenhouses if anyone refused to pay. Giuffré was responsible for putting the new policy into practice: ‘We might have a problem with one of the businesses: even then we were absolutely forbidden to cause trouble. If one firm was a bit stubborn, and didn’t want to pay, we had to find a solution without causing a row, without setting fires or smashing the place up.’
‘This policy of submersion was particularly dangerous for us,’ said Pietro Grasso, formerly Palermo’s chief prosecutor, ‘because it’s more difficult to grasp what Cosa Nostra is doing if there is no violent crime. There was a danger that Cosa Nostra would drop out of our sights.’
Mediation
‘I beg you to be calm, true and correct, correct and consistent, know how to turn any negative experiences to account, don’t dismiss everything people tell you or believe everything you’re told, always try to discover the truth before you speak, and remember that it’s never enough to have just one source of information to make your judgement. To be certain, you need three sources to confirm it; you need to be fair, honest, and consistent.’
This letter was sent to Gino Ilardo, capo of Caltanissetta, who was seeking advice on how to resolve the problem of a large sum of money going missing, amid a storm of rumours and disinformation. Assistant prosecutor Michele Prestipino describes it as ‘a manifesto of Cosa Nostra under Bernardo Provenzano, for whom mediation was the rule (although violence and terrorism were not ruled out if they became necessary)’.
‘This letter gives us a snapshot of Provenzano the Mafia boss, at the height of his power’, says Nino Di Matteo. ‘What strikes me about this letter is his careful approach to directing the organization: he never takes a major step unless he is absolutely certain that it needs to be taken.’
Provenzano will go down in history as the ‘guarantor of the pax mafioso’. He stopped the Mafia’s war on the state and insisted on peaceful methods, instructing his men in the art of negotiation and the importance of dialogue.
Provenzano’s lengthy and often difficult negotiations with Riina taught him a great deal about the essential skills of mediation: policy had to be thrashed out at the table, not at the end of a gun.
Provenzano was decisive and on occasions demanded swift and direct answers to his questions, but when it served him, he could come across as a ditherer. He was circumspect, added to which, the system of pizzini meant that he could choose whether and when to reply, sometimes remaining guarded even with his closest allies.
He wrote to Giuffré: ‘You ask if I’ve got some advice to give you about this matter. I’m going to ask you the same thing, if you can advise me.’
On occasion he heard both sides of an argument, delayed matters by asking for more information and then gave each side contradictory instructions. He wrote to Giuffré: ‘We must be patient, and hear the other side of the story, after which we’ll see what we have to do.’
In a series of letters to Ilardo, who was trying to solve the disappearance of 500 million lire of protection money paid by a Catania industrial plant, Provenzano keeps the issue at bay, feigning ignorance of the issues. ‘I’m not absolutely sure I know what you’re referring to here’, he writes. ‘You want to clarify the matter, but what’s to clarify? As I explained, I know nothing about this.’
Provenzano insisted that nothing was to be gained by falling out with each other. ‘My wish is to make peace wherever possible, and keep everything clear between us, so as to maintain respect for each other.’
Differences had to be resolved, but because the organization was under intense scrutiny, top-level summits were out of the question. Provenzano urged his members to sort out their problems and revealed a steely impatience if there was any delay.
‘You want me to give you instructions, or advice, but what can I tell you when there are two versions of the facts which contradict each other? You are the ones who can say, which is the correct version, not me.
‘You must find a way to understand each other’s point of view.’
Giuffré, watchful for signs of treachery, wrote to Provenzano expressing concern that his own trusted postmen had allowed more than one letter to get wet and become illegible en route to its destination. Scrupulously, he brought it to the Boss’s attention, and was reassured by the reply: ‘With his usual wisdom and diplomacy, Provenzano said: “Before we say anything, let’s try and ascertain the facts, shall we? These things can happen, when they go through so many hands.”’
All the time he was counselling moderation and straight dealing between warring factions, Provenzano was careful to keep himself out of the frame. It was one of his principles to stay out of relationships between families. ‘It’s between you. See if you can find a way to get everyone in agreement, all pulling in the same direction.’
Consensus
‘The estate owner wants to give the administrator’s job to one of our people. She can’t get on with the current incumbent and wants him out of there’, Provenzano wrote to Ilardo. ‘We need to sort out a replacement. Let me know when you are able to give me a reply for this lady. Do forgive me for bothering you with these recommendations, but as you know, my aim is to serve.’
‘We don’t know whether the lady was making the request, or whether the Mafia got involved of its own initiative’, observes Di Matteo. ‘But it is extraordinary that today, on a big estate, they turn to Provenzano to let them know whom they can hire as a manager.’
Provenzano’s letter makes clear, in his self-effacing way, that any requests for help, advice or recommendations from ordinary people must be treated as a priority.
One key step in the organization’s recovery was recapturing the popular consensus, after Riina’s bombing strategy alienated the population at large. The Mafia has always relied on the silent consent of the community, as an essential part of its social control. His ability to survive on the run depended on the full support of the communities in which he lived.
Provenzano was clear: the Mafia must appear a positive element of life, a mutual benefit for all. The Boss had to appear as a beneficent figure, an uncle whose advice and consent were sought on all matters – business and personal. Cosa Nostra has always portrayed itself as holder of the moral standard. Uncle Binnu accepted requests for assistance or advice from every level of society. Managers, landowners, employers, knew they could get a reliable recommendation from the Boss. Fathers whose daughters were getting married could discover if the young man in question had honourable intentions.
‘Bernardo Provenzano, in these pizzini, replies to requests for help, advice and decisions’, explains Prestipino: ‘who gets permission to marry his girlfriend, who gets let off military service . . . he has a close and dynamic relationship with the community. He oversees everything, controls everything – his influence on people’s private lives is pervasive. It’s important for them to have his judgement on who marries whom, who they vote for, what to think, what to do. It’s the basis of social control, and far more effective than military oppression.’
Investigators couldn’t find Provenzano, but people who n
eeded a favour knew how to get their request to him. Those who wanted to, knew his local representatives and turned to them with their requests for recommendations.
Parents of students appealed to the Godfather to make sure they passed their exams. This was a good deal more effective than dedicating an ex voto to Santa Maria: if the commission was accepted, a mafioso would speak to the professor and persuade him to give the boy a good grade.
‘I’m sending you a copy of the response from your godson, and the Professor. So I’m pleased to say that the Prof did his duty and the boy did well in his exams . . .’
The aim is to penetrate social and economic relationships to such an extent that if a person wishes to exercise their rights, they can do so only through the Mafia. Cosa Nostra replaced the state, not battling against it but taking over from the inside.
Answering people’s requests for help or advice brings them into a structure that they then implicitly support; this is the power of Provenzano’s system, the method by which the Mafia historically exerted social control. If you know about people’s emotional lives, you have a hold on them. And if you help a businessman with connections, or recommendations, you have his complicity in the system. That ordinary people were once again turning to the Boss for help and favours in their daily lives was a sign that Provenzano’s policies were succeeding.
The need for popular consensus also required a tactical change in the manner of extorting protection money. Instead of demanding ever-increasing slices of the profits until they drove companies out of business, Provenzano’s watchword was ‘everybody pays less, but everybody pays’. By demanding a figure businesses could afford, he restored the sense that it was on the whole much less trouble for companies to pay up quietly, month after month. His pragmatic approach made it advantageous for companies to deal with the Mafia.
Boss of Bosses Page 17