Doing Right

The grand displays of sorrow in L'Aquila--a public televised funeral for hundreds and a national day of mourning-- are over. What remains beyond the dismal tent cities in this once-lovely medieval city are questions about whether Italy will do right by those suffering.

Specifically, will there be a hard look at why modern buildings in this earthquake-prone region turned into tombs during last Monday's temblor? Will authorities hold people accountable?

Prosecutors told journalists last week that they are investigating the collapse of at least two buildings: a student dormitory and the main hospital in L'Aquila. The brick dormitory essentially pancaked, killing about a dozen students. The hospital, the biggest in the Abruzzo region, was rendered useless when the earth shifted. The facility's pipes and walls cracked so badly that patients had to be evacuated at the city's acute moment of need.

As of this weekend, 289 people were known to have perished in the quake. As many as 70,000 people are said to be homeless.

L'Aquila is the biggest city in a region, about 80 miles from Rome, known for deadly tremors. Strict anti-seismic construction laws have been in place for years. Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi, visibly emotional at a state funeral on Friday, vowed to seek hundreds of millions of dollars in European funds to help rebuild this hilltown and its surrounding villages. The billionaire premier even offered to open his own home to displaced people -- although it was unclear which of his multiple residences (a villa in Sardinia, perhaps?) that he was actually offering.

So far, he has glossed over questions about who may share blame for some of the grief.

Specifically, in a country where organized crime fluorishes, did the Mafia have a hand in Abruzzo's loss? Who was tied to the companies that built public buildings? Did contractors adhere to seismic construction demands? More simply, where was the iron and concrete that was supposed to make these buildings safe?

L'Aquila suffered a quake that registered 5.8 on the Richter scale. The upheaval proved too much for masonry and designs dating from the 13th century and the most beautiful cathedrals and cultural monuments tumbled. But experts are rightly asking if modern construction shouldn't have defied that sort of bone-jolting.

Was L'Aquila twice a victim, of natural disaster and man-driven greed?

Berlusconi said on Italian radio that the week of sorrow in Abruzzo "was a devastating experience that I will never forget." One hopes he can get past his emotions and examine with vigor the causes behind the devastation.