Surrounded by Water : Landscapes, Seascapes and Cityscapes of Sardinia [1 ed.] 9781443888615, 9781443886000

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Surrounded by Water

Surrounded by Water: Landscapes, Seascapes and Cityscapes of Sardinia Edited by

Andrea Corsale and Giovanni Sistu

Surrounded by Water: Landscapes, Seascapes and Cityscapes of Sardinia Edited by Andrea Corsale and Giovanni Sistu Translation from Italian to English of chapters I, VIII, X, XII, XIX, XX, and partial translation of chapters IV and XVIII, by Isabella Martini This book first published 2016 Cambridge Scholars Publishing Lady Stephenson Library, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2PA, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2016 by Andrea Corsale, Giovanni Sistu and contributors All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-8600-9 ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-8600-0

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface ...................................................................................................... viii Andrea Corsale and Giovanni Sistu Prologue Chapter One ................................................................................................. 2 Cultural Heritage and Identity: Images in Travel Literature Clara Incani Carta Part I: Elements Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 16 “Geodiversity” of Sardinia Antonio Funedda Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 27 Climate, Climate Change and Desertification Andrea Motroni Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 35 Hydrogeological Assessment of Sardinia and Related Issues Giorgio Ghiglieri and Stefania Da Pelo Chapter Five .............................................................................................. 48 Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils Andrea Vacca Part II: People, Territory and Policies Chapter Six ................................................................................................ 64 Demographics of Sardinia: Main Features and Trends Andrea Corsale

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Chapter Seven............................................................................................ 82 “Deserting the City and the Countryside”: Socioeconomic Restructuring and Migration Process Silvia Aru Chapter Eight ............................................................................................. 99 The Foreign Presence in Sardinia Michele Carboni and Marisa Fois Chapter Nine.............................................................................................112 Sociolinguistic Profile of the Language Situation in Sardinia Maria Antonietta Marongiu Chapter Ten ............................................................................................. 127 Landscape Marcello Tanca Chapter Eleven ........................................................................................ 142 Coastal Planning and Tourist Development: Reframing Sea Paradises Carlo Perelli Chapter Twelve ........................................................................................ 155 Urban Areas: Cities Do (Not) Exist in Sardinia Maurizio Memoli Chapter Thirteen ...................................................................................... 172 Economic Outlook: A “Missed Opportunity” Marco Sideri and Stefano Usai Chapter Fourteen ..................................................................................... 184 Mobility Italo Meloni Chapter Fifteen ........................................................................................ 195 Rural Territories and Agriculture Francesco Nuvoli and Fabio Parascandolo Chapter Sixteen ....................................................................................... 220 Tourism in Sardinia: A Potential Yet to be Achieved Monica Iorio

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Chapter Seventeen ................................................................................... 242 Environmental Policies in Sardinia: Some Desirable Scenarios of a Complex Development Strategy Giovanni Sistu and Vania Statzu Chapter Eighteen ..................................................................................... 256 Water Management: Reducing Vulnerability and Improving Management during Droughts Roberto Silvano Chapter Nineteen ..................................................................................... 272 Energy and Territory: A Difficult Balance Matteo Puttilli Part III: Perspectives Chapter Twenty........................................................................................ 288 The Mediterranean Context Raffaele Cattedra Contributors ............................................................................................. 310

PREFACE

This collective work aims to give an insight into the physical and human geography of Sardinia, the second largest Mediterranean island, with its complex, varied, changing and often hidden features. The title, “Surrounded by Water”, recalls the identity of a land whose coastlines and surrounding seas have symbolically represented social, economic, political and cultural bridges or walls, meeting or colliding places, over its long and difficult history. Landscapes, seascapes and cityscapes will be presented and analysed, together with other aspects, through a descriptive focus and the original contributions provided to the research by some local experts, in order to offer worldwide scholars and students a complex and multidimensional view of the Sardinian reality through the lens of its geographical features. Each chapter of the book offers an in-depth and concise analysis of a specific theme, through the description of its characteristics and current variations within the island territory. These descriptive aspects will complement insights related to the experiences and findings provided by the authors during the research. This work will be introduced by a contribution on the cultural heritage and identity of Sardinia through travel literature, preceded by two key political maps of the island, symbolically leading the foreign reader to reapproach it. The first part of the book (“Elements”) will cover the main aspects of physical geography, with some chapters on geology, soils, hydrogeology and climate. The physical characteristics will combine with complex phenomena such as desertification, pollution and climate change. The second part (“People, territory and policies”) will deal with human geography, through chapters on demographics, migration, foreign population, landscapes, coastal planning, urban areas, economy, agriculture, tourism, environmental policies, water management and energy, analysing their main characteristics and the complex responses of stakeholders, institutions and civil society on vital, critical issues such as the management of natural resources, democratic participation and local autonomy. A broader angle will be finally offered, covering the connections and relations between Sardinia, Europe and the Mediterranean area, leading

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the reader to the end of this symbolic journey through ever-changing identities and perspectives. The authors’ common and shared aim is to raise a new, modern interest in Sardinia, in further regional geographic studies, in academic, scientific and cultural exchanges, among peoples and countries with both similar and different histories, identities, issues and hopes. Andrea Corsale, Giovanni Sistu

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE CULTURAL HERITAGE AND IDENTITY: IMAGES IN TRAVEL LITERATURE CLARA INCANI CARTA

The history of Sardinia dates back to remote times, and, just as with any other territorial entity, Sardinia’s own identity is rooted in a specific culture, by which is meant, according to UNESCO as well, the whole of the spiritual, material, intellectual, and emotional features marking a specific society or a social group. A whole which is not only composed of art and literature, but also of ways of living, of the fundamental rights of human beings, of value systems, of folklore and beliefs. All this comes across as a notably complex notion, which cannot but take into account cultural assets, as they are considered to bear identity/diversity, to which a particular sense or meaning is attributed, and values, either material or non-material – natural events included – which are placed within time and space, and which therefore become a symbol, i.e. a sign to be interpreted. It is an attribution stemming from a community – therefore within a social scope – which is confused and disoriented in itself, due to the damage suffered from modern times by the socio-cultural inheritance, local knowledge and uses, the tradition and historical memory defended by people and places. This, in turn, leads to the very same community needing to find itself again, to isolate its landmarks in order to recognize and identify itself with a specific place, history, culture, society. In order to avoid this disorientation, the community needs to seek their roots, to revalue their past and memory, to restore the deepest social relations within better-shaped groups – never confined, nor isolated – more close-knit and united. The community needs a research that, from a geographical point of view, prompts the desire to have closer relations with the area, with its nature and its place; to get acquainted with their features and properties; to rediscover knowledgeable and virtuous relations between nature and man; to recover and learn the diversity and peculiarity of those same places and areas; to re-establish a “sense of place”, a devotion, and a feeling for one’s own horizons on Earth.

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Generally speaking, it is a matter of re-implanting a process of identification, claiming diversity and specificity, to which a great contribution is provided by the articulate complex of each cultural heritage, as it is inserted and localized within a certain area. Therefore, it would be advisable to preserve each piece of cultural heritage in all its shapes, to enhance it and to pass it over generations. Thus, the originality of a people and an area can be recovered or re-established, preserved and guaranteed – also by considering that this originality is representative of an indefeasible richness, i.e. culture, which takes different shapes in time and space, shapes that are disclosed through scientific aspects and through different group identities. Being a source of exchange, innovation, and creativity, cultural diversity is necessary for mankind just as much as biodiversity is necessary to every form of life. Cultural diversity is mankind’s shared heritage; therefore it has to be acknowledged and asserted, through a far-sighted and appropriate vision. In order to acknowledge and protect cultural heritage and identity, the first step is to undertake fundamental activities of documenting, registering and censusing, which imply not just a mere collection of data, but a historical evaluation as well, to be connected to a judgement of their value, and not just to a reworking of the past. It seems obvious that such activities should be the first step to be undertaken – in order to build a prior knowledge – through a systematic and solid methodology, so as to obtain tools to achieve a suitable state of preservation, protection, and enhancement of the environmental, social, historical, and cultural heritage. Moreover, it has to be pointed out that such knowledge should be a detailed and analytical one, i.e. on a local basis, which is not in connection with a dimensional concept of a small and peripheral somewhere, rather something viewed through a geographical perspective concerning a geographic space and a people, provided with significant specialties, and symptomatic differences. In relation to this, an activity of productive and peculiar documentation can be conducted on travel literature in general, and specifically on travel literature on Sardinia, which, as far as the 19th century is concerned, is rather extensive and comparatively accessible to a wide audience, due to the increase in translations and reprints. Among other functions, these could play a leading role in recovering and protecting historical memory and identity, which in turn could be enhanced and protected by the safeguard of their connected environmental and cultural heritage. Also the regional Government of Sardinia appreciates heritage itself, as an inalienable resource that can be traced back and retrieved, if not even

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located and recovered from a distant past, through travel writings. Among the accounts gathered and conveyed by those who observed and represented the island and its inhabitants from several angles, often with high quality outcomes, Alberto Ferrero Della Marmora’s works are worthy of particular attention. He authored a Voyage en Sardaigne de 1819 à 1825 (1826, 1839-1840), and an Itinéraire de l’île de Sardaigne (1860). as Also worth studying is M. Le Lannou’s Pâtres et paysans de la Sardaigne (1941). These works stem from long stays in Sardinia, and show remarkable scientific insights, where nature and society, history and geography, places and economy, language and human kinds, territorial organization and demo-ethno-anthropological assets are systematically analysed and presented in detail. This is a precious resource for Sardinia, aiming to defend its cultural heritage against homologation and globalization, and re-establishing its own identity/diversity, while restoring continuity and communication between times and generations, linking and harmonizing past, present, and future. Ignoring one’s own origins, like relinquishing awareness and subsequent elaboration, would mean having no future at all. Several other writings were produced by Italian, English, French, and German people who visited the island for various reasons between the second half of the 18th century and the first decades of the 20th century, and who gave accounts on its natural and anthropic reality both to a European and a Sardinian audience. All this from an external point of view framing Southern Europe as a unique reality, from a point of view which was ethno-anthropological, naturalistic, political-economic, and social at the same time. A Southern Europe that the on-going tradition described through ‘different’ unknown lands, which were original and ‘wild’, uncontaminated and rich in resources, systematically and actually ‘discovered’ only in the 19th century by conscious voluntary and autonomous travelling experiences. These led to the disclosure of Sardinia, through the tracks, routes and contexts of the European traditional Grand Tour of the 17th and 18th centuries. Exploring Sardinia became increasingly frequent for middle-class travellers, meeting their needs of study, entertainment, escape, and sometimes economic investments which were fostered by a more widespread supply of money, by the progress in transportation and communication systems, by an increased freedom of movement within a continent, Europe, willing to ‘explore itself’ in order to achieve complete control over its territory, to which some territorial realities actually seemed elusive. The new Italian national reality, after recently achieving governmental unity, could have overcome the atavistic fragmentation of its

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territory; but on the contrary, it seemed to mark this new national entity and divide it among different social, economic, and cultural realities, caused by the various historical experiences the several areas of the peninsula had faced over the centuries. Within such a context, Sardinia seemed to remain a marginal space – unknown and mysterious – for a long time, despite its becoming, during the 19th century, the destination of several journeys: an intentional destination at that, as it could be included neither by improvising an excursion within another itinerary, nor by arriving there by chance, but only by choosing it specifically. Such a choice resulted in considering the island as neglected by progress and civilization, according to the large majority of travellers, so different from Central and Western Europe; the island was referred to in relation to the responsibilities of the Piedmontese government, which seemed to be doing very little to make it advance and develop from a socio-economic point of view. Nonetheless, the island offered its generous, wild, and uncontaminated nature, and its long and unique history, where time seemed to have stopped, and where the laws of beauty, the sublime, the picturesque, and the exotic perfectly matched. Exploring Sardinia was a search for diversity, for primeval harmony between mankind and nature, for the stages or the routes of natural history, and a spirit of adventure, a sense of freedom, an escape from everyday life could thus be satisfied. But it was not just this. Indeed, it should be remembered that, first of all, Sardinia also came to attention as an economic space for the middle classes’ investments, who used to request and fund journeys, and to gather information on potential resources to be collected, transformed and traded, as is emblematically demonstrated in the journey to the island (1884) made by R. Tennant “chiamato a far parte di una Commissione incaricata di studiare iniziative economiche in Sardegna […] per ottenere informazioni autentiche circa le varie risorse della regione in materia di agricoltura, miniere, foreste, pesca, ferrovie, industrie ed il commercio nel suo complesso” [“who was asked to be part of a board in charge of studying economic initiatives in Sardinia [...] to gather first-hand information on the various resources of the island, as far as agriculture, mines, forests, fishing, railways, industries, and trade in general were concerned”] (2006, p. 29). Secondly, the political-military interest in the island cannot be underestimated, as it was expressed by foreign powers, such as, for instance, Britain, to which Sardinia represented an excellent base in the Mediterranean Sea. Indeed, Lord Nelson, who had been in La Maddalena between 1803 and 1805, heartily recommended keeping an eye on the French fleet blocked off in Toulon,

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and who had hoped for the island to be acquired on several occasions. Anyway, it should be remarked that Sardinia represented an ideal dimension for travellers, i.e. a historically and spatially ‘different’ dimension both for its insularity, which is one of the most evident in the Mediterranean Sea, and for its comparative distance from the continental mass and from the so-called ‘central’ locations, all of which made it a reality which was ‘distant’ even in time. This distance was also due to its socio-economic backwardness, which seemed to have ‘preserved’ it at an archaic stage, and to the poorly anthropized territory, which led a primeval and untouched nature to be still widespread, as a symbol of an ‘other’ world, pre-existing and alien to ‘civilization’, a world which was sought in order to come into contact with it. On the island, it was possible to travel backwards in time while advancing in space, as it was archaic and primitive, with this adjective not always used in a negative sense by travellers, who meant it as a synonym of ‘genuine’, ‘natural’, or ‘authentic’. It seemed to them that people unanimously thought Sardinia to be the repository of a specific and peculiar culture, untouched by modernity. Indeed, all this was the outcome of observations stemming from the lesson taught by that same romantic historicism that had been a resolute supporter of the European nationalism, which, in turn, had found its expression in the search for origins, ethnical roots, traditions and folklore. Such a search considered the peculiarities and the spirit of several peoples who, just like the Sardinians, seemed to have left a “profonda impronta della loro identità sul nostro globo! Questa impronta non è ormai cancellata come si crede. La Sardegna è […] il paese che meglio l’ha conservata” [“deep trace of their identity on our globe! Such a trace has never been deleted the way we think it has. Sardinia is […] the country which has preserved it best”] (Domenech, 1997, p. 20). In addition, it was a search that had mobilized resources and people with diverse interests and projects, and that had prompted in particular 19thcentury travellers, in accordance with the indications provided in the 17thcentury science de l’homme by ethnography and anthropology, which had increasingly taken shape throughout the 19th century. According to the new human sciences, as well as to the needs of European nationalism, travellers on the island started to carefully and extensively collect habits and customs, folklore traditions and uses, social organizations and knowledge, practices and rituals, language and institutions, cults and beliefs, feasts and ceremonies of the Sardinian people, who, “per la singolarità dei suoi costumi, per l’indipendenza dell’animo, per l’alta opinione di sé medesimo, per la sua ospitalità generosa e cordiale, forma da sé solo una nazione distinta che fa parte

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della grande famiglia europea” [“for the uniqueness of their customs, the independence of their soul, their high opinion of themselves, their generous and warm hospitality, represent a distinct nation themselves within the great European family of nations”] (de Gregory, 1847, p. 4). Such a collection was surely stimulated by nationalisms and by the process of shaping national identities through the detection of diversity, but nonetheless it was carried out to satisfy scientific needs, in particular ones of social science, which was stabilizing its own assumptions just at that time, as mentioned above. Moreover, it has to be highlighted that ethnoanthropological observations were useful both to the agenda and the projects of the European political-economic powers, claiming their need to acquire fair knowledge about the peoples living in the Old Continent, a knowledge that was provided by travel literature. This literary genre has contributed to retracing and developing a Sardinian historical memory, thanks to the surveyal of demo-ethnoanthropological heritage, in order to retrieve and preserve such an antique and peculiar culture. Furthermore, this same literature could not but highlight the existence of a considerable artistic and monumental heritage that was traced in the two most important Sardinian cities, but also in lesser towns and in some villages, with an utmost meticulous care, including painting, architecture, churches and cathedrals. It seems that the travellers’ attention was mostly caught by the archaeological sites and prehistoric nuraghi for their evident uniqueness, but also by the monumental sepulchres, as represented by the “tombs of the giants”, by the hypogean structures, sacred wells and temples, or by precursor stelae such as the menhirs. Even the surveys on techniques, knowledge, working procedures and practices – in particular agriculture, farming and crafts – are useful to retrace the Sardinian socio-economic world, which was neglected by the Savoy government, leading to poverty and backwardness. Its adequate revaluation would be functional to recognize not only the origins and cultural identity in general, but also, in particular, to retrieve arts, crafts, skills and resources that have been either forgotten or despised by modernity. Such retrieval would be positively confirmed if it took historical memory and identity assets into proper account, and if “se come portatori di una eredità, di un patrimonio ereditato dal passato, vigili, sappiamo cogliere al varco le occasioni di realizzarne le possibilità rimaste inespresse” [“since bearing a legacy, a heritage from our past, we will be able to catch all the opportunities to fulfil their unexpressed potentialities”] (Quaini, 2006, p.106), which may have been either latent or ignored. This would be a favourable acknowledgement, especially for

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those communities dwelling in rural and mountain territories, in small villages, in lesser towns, in hamlets and peripheral small towns in Sardinia, which have all increasingly lost their inhabitants and competitiveness, due to traditional activities disappearing and being outdated by the modern economy. Activities that could witness a new life for their socio-economic fabric – especially from a tourism point of view – by retrieving and increasing the heritage value, which could create new employment possibilities, revitalise areas while preventing their inhabitants from moving elsewhere, thus avoiding migration, abandonment and neglect. Further meaningful records offered by travel literature, relating to contemporary initiatives of urban restoration and regeneration, refer to the two main Sardinian cities, in particular to the description and representation of Cagliari and Sassari, as well as their supposed antagonism. Cagliari is constantly mentioned as the “capitale della Sardegna” [“capital city of Sardinia” (Domenech, 1997, p. 44), “la sua città principale e più bella” [“its main and most beautiful city”] (Corbetta, 1981, p. 298), as “dove pulsa la vita della Sardegna […] il principale ganglio nervoso che anima l’isola” [where Sardinian life throbs […] the main centre animating the island”] (Delessert, 2001, p. 111). Sassari, on the contrary, is seen in a subordinate position, therefore presented as the “seconda città della Sardegna” [“second Sardinian city”] (Domenech, 1997, p. 24). Both have been outlined by travellers through several features: their site; the structure of their districts – distinctively described; their architecture and monuments; the available services; their artistic, historical and architectural heritage; the features and occupations of their inhabitants; their feasts, ceremonies and diverse events; their social life, etc.; as well as the peculiarity of the territory around their original and central nuclei. Although travellers contributed some significant remarks, it was not a period where urban issues could be properly dealt with, like in some large and most developed European cities at the time, issues which would become largely widespread only after World War II, with the burst of urban agglomerations, the success of industrialization, the urbanization of the territory, and the progressive concentration of population in the cities. Travel literature also provides rich and accurate observations on the Sardinian flora and fauna and on its forests and woods – which were heavily compromised by 19th century speculation on wood. Such observation would help to locate environmental traces, which could be useful to several local communities wanting to give a new value to their territory from a naturalistic standpoint, and introduce it to their tourists. To that end, travel writing also provides descriptions of several landscapes

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and views – in line with Romantic inclinations – belonging to sites that could be given new value, and therefore considered in view of redeveloping the territory. Clearly, even in this case, the ability and the will of the local communities are fundamental to promoting their own cultural and environmental potential, as well as their heritage of identity and peculiar resources, in terms of quality and originality, according to a common life project which, drawing from the past and living the present, will be invariably oriented towards the future. Therefore, it is those local communities that – due to the chronic lack of public funds and the related limits of intervention by the private sector – should aim to revive and give new value to their own heritage and territory, persuading institutions about the high value of their projects.

References Anonimo Piemontese. Descrizione dell’isola di Sardegna (1759), Cagliari: Comune di Cagliari, 1985. Artizzu, Lucio. Lord Nelson e la Sardegna. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 2008. Bechi, Giulio. Caccia grossa. Scene e figure del banditismo. Nuoro: Ilisso, 1997. Bennet, James H. La Corse et la Sardaigne. Etude de voyage et de climatologie. Paris: Asselin, 1876. Bianchi, Elisa (Ed.). Geografie private. I resoconti di viaggio come lettura del territorio. Milan: Unicopli, 1985. Borofsky, Robert. L’antropologia culturale oggi. Rome: Meltemi, 2000. Botta, Giorgio (Ed.). Cultura del viaggio. Ricostruzione storicogeografica del territorio. Milan: Unicopli, 1989. Bresciani, Antonio. Dei costumi dell’isola di Sardegna comparati cogli antichissimi popoli orientali (1850). Nuoro: Ilisso, 2001. Carta, Maurizio. L’armatura culturale del territorio. Il patrimonio culturale come matrice di identità e strumento di sviluppo. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 1999. Ceawford Flitch, John E. Mediterranean Moods. Footnotes of travel in the islands of Mallorca, Menorca, Ibiza and Sardinia. London: Grant Richards, 1911. Cecchi, Roberto. I Beni Culturali. Testimonianza materiale di civiltà. Milan: Spirali, 2006. Claval, Paul. La geografia culturale. Milan: DeAgostini, 2002. Corbetta, Carlo. Sardegna e Corsica. Milan: Brigola, 1877. Cuchen Denys. La nozione di cultura nelle scienze sociali. Bologna: Il

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Mulino, 2006. D’Austria - Este, Francesco. Descrizione della Sardegna (1812). Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1993. Davey, Mary. Icnusa; or Pleasant reminiscences of a two years residence in the Island of Sardinia (1861). Sassari: Magnum, 2002. De Gregory, Gaspare. Isola di Sardegna. Venice: Antonelli, 1847. Delessert, Edouard. Six semaines dans l’île de Sardaigne (1855). Sassari: Delfino, 2001. Dematteis, Giuseppe, Fiorenzo Ferlaino. Il mondo e i luoghi: geografie delle identità e del cambiamento. Turin: Istituto di ricerche economicosociali del Piemonte, 2003. Domenech, Emanuel. “Berges et bandits. Souvenirs d’un voyage en Sardaigne (1867)”. In Viaggiatori di Sardegna, edited by Francesca Pineider. Cagliari: Demos, 1997, pp. 13-130. Edwardes, Charles. Sardinia and the Sardes (1889). Nuoro: Ilisso, 2000. Fabietti, Ugo, Vincenzo Matera. Memorie e identità. Simboli e strategie del ricordo. Rome: Meltemi, 1999. Forester, Thomas. Rambles in the Islands of Corsica and Sardinia, (1858). Cagliari: Condaghes, 1996. Fuos, Joseph. Nachrichten aus Sardinien von der gegenwärtingen, (1780). Nuoro: Ilisso, 2000. Grasselli Barni, Annibale. A caccia in Sardegna. Sassari: La Nuova Sardegna, 2004. Hannerz, Ulf. La diversità culturale. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2001. Incani Carta, Clara. “Il viaggio in Sardegna. Spunti di riflessione geografica”. In Studi di geografia e storia in onore di Angela Terrosu Asole, edited by Luisa D’Arienzo. Cagliari: AV, 1996, pp. 149-187. Magnaghi, Alberto (Ed.). Il territorio dell’abitare. Lo sviluppo locale come alternativa strategica. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 1990. Magnaghi, Alberto. Il progetto locale. Turin: Bollati Boringhieri, 2000. Mantegazza, Paolo. Profili e paesaggi della Sardegna (1869). Sassari: La Nuova Sardegna, 2004. Mori, Alberto. Sardegna. Vol. XVIII of the collection “Le Regioni d’Italia”, founded by Roberto Almagià, directed by Elio Migliorini. Turin: UTET, 1966 Posse Brazdova, Amelie. Interludio di Sardegna. Sassari: La Nuova Sardegna, 2004. Prunas Tola, Giuseppe. Il Barone di Maltzan in Sardegna. Milan: Brigola, 1886. Quaini, Massimo. L’ombra del paesaggio. L’orizzonte di un’utopia conviviale. Reggio Emilia: Diabasis, 2006.

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Scaramellini, Guglielmo (Ed.), La geografia del territorio. Raffigurazioni individuali e immagini collettive nei resoconti di viaggio. Milan: Unicopli, 1993. Schweinfurth, Georg A. Journal de mon excursion à travers l’île de Sardaigne (1884). Cagliari: Le Volpi, 1992. Sciolla, Loredana. Sociologia dei processi culturali. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2007. Sibley, David, Peter Jackson, David Atkinson, Neil Washbourne (Eds.). Cultural Geography: A Critical Dictionary of Key Concepts. London: Tauris, 2005. Smyth, William H. Sketch of the present state of the Island of Sardinia, (1828). Nuoro: Ilisso, 1998. Tennant, Robert. Sardinia and its resources (1885). Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 2006. Thomas, John E. Sardinia and Rome. London: Macmillan, 1925. Tyndale, John W. The Island of Sardinia (1849). Nuoro: Ilisso, 2002. Valery, Antoine C. P. Voyages en Corse, à l’île d’Elbe et en Sardaigne, (1837). Nuoro: Ilisso, 1996. Vallega, Adalberto. Geografia culturale. Luoghi, spazi, simboli. Turin: UTET, 2003. Vuillier, Gaston. Les îles oubliées: Les Baleares, La Corse et la Sardaigne (1893). Nuoro: Ilisso, 2002. Wagner, Max L. Das ländliche Leben Sardiniens im Spiegel der Sprache Kulturhistorish-sprachlicheUntersuchungen (1921). Nuoro: Ilisso, 1996. —. Immagini di viaggio dalla Sardegna. Nuoro: Ilisso, 2001. —. La lingua sarda. Storia, spirito e forma (1950). Nuoro: Ilisso, 1997. Zarrilli, Luca (Ed.). Lifescapes. Culture Paesaggi identità. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007.

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Appendix A

Figure 1.1. Historical-Geographical Regions of Sardinia Source: Mori, A. (1966)

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Figure 1.2. Administrative map of Sardinia Source: Regione Autonoma della Sardegna, 2014

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PART I ELEMENTS

CHAPTER TWO “GEODIVERSITY” OF SARDINIA ANTONIO FUNEDDA

The island of Sardinia is a 30 km-thick crustal block, N-S oriented, located at the boundary between two basins made by stretched and thinned continental crust up to the pelagic crust: the Central (Tyrrhenian sea) and the Western Mediterranean (Sardinia Sea). Its “geodiversity” has fascinated many geologists since the mid 19th century, because it represents a puzzle of very different geological features: the tectonic, the stratigraphic, and the palaeontological ones for instance, assembled over more than 500 million years. Furthermore, from the historical point of view, the geological importance of Sardinia for human beings, because of the presence of important ores, mainly metal ones, could be dated back up to the Phoenician civilization and even to the 2nd millennium B.C. This marked geological diversity, which is evident also in the remarkable diversity of its landscape, is demonstrated by the presence of rocks from every Period of the Phanerozoic Era, which onshore crop out in an island which is about 24,000 square kilometres wide (Carmignani et al. 2008; Carmignani et al. 2012). These rocks prove some of the most important geological global events occurring in the last 540 Ma and that can be summed up in the following description: the evolution of the passive margin of Gondwanaland palaeo-continent after the disruption of the older one, the 1 Gigayear old Rodinia supercontinent (Pre-Cambrian Lower Palaeozoic), the opening and closure of the Rheic ocean (Middle Palaeozoic), the Variscan orogeny and the consequent assembling of Pangea (Upper Palaeozoic-Lower Mesozoic), the opening of the Tethys ocean (Mesozoic) and its closure related to the Alpine orogeny (Upper Mesozoic-Lower Cainozoic), the raise of the Algero-Provençal and Corsica basins (Middle Cainozoic) and, finally, the still on-going opening of the South Tyrrhenian basin (Figure 2.1). In the island, in synthesis and with a rough oversimplification, two big ensembles can be identified:

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i) a Variscan crystalline basement made up of rocks sedimented during the evolution into the passive margin, the origin and disappearance of the Rheic Ocean and the consequent new passive margin, that were deformed and metamorphosed during the Carboniferous period and then intruded on by a huge amount of granitoids related to the subduction and continental collision between Gondwanaland in the south and the Armorican Terranes Assemblage in the north (Rossi et al. 2009). ii) A post-Variscan cover, not affected by regional metamorphism, constituted by several composites, thick volcano-sedimentary successions that can be related to the Tethys and Alpine-Apennine evolution, unconformably lying on the Variscan basement and separated by regional angular unconformities (Carmignani et al. 2001).

The Variscan basement The Variscan basement is characterized by a polyphasic deformation and metamorphism related to the continental collision and increasing from SW to NE. A tectonic-metamorphic zoning, typical of collisional chains, is still recognizable (Carmignani et al. 2001): i) an External zone, considered the foreland of the chain, crops out in the SW (Sulcis-Iglesiente) and is affected by a very low metamorphic grade; ii) a Nappe zone, characterized by a stack of several tectonic units internally deformed with low-grade metamorphism, in turn subdivided into the External nappes (Sarrabus unit, Gerrei unit, Sarcidano unit, Arburese unit, etc.) and the Internal nappes (Barbagia unit, Anglona units, Nurra units, etc.); finally iii) an Inner zone (Gallura, northern Anglona, Island of Asinara), highly deformed under a mid-grade metamorphism. Both in the foreland and in the Nappe zone (mainly in its External nappe zone) the lithostratigraphic succession can be subdivided into three main synthems (Carmignani et al. 2001): 1) a Cambrian-Lower Ordovician succession (mainly siliciclastic except for the thick Cambrian limestone in the Foreland) cut at the top by an angular unconformity well recognizable in the field (“Sardic unconformity”). Some of the oldest Phanerozoic fossils (Archeocyata and Trilobita) are in the Foreland zone (Sulcis-Iglesiente) (Pillola 1990); 2) a Middle Upper Ordovician calc-alkaline volcanic suite lays unconformably to this, but just in the Nappe zone (Oggiano et al. 2010), later followed by an Upper Ordovician terrigenous succession (Leone et al. 1991), a Silurian black shale and Devonian-Lower Carboniferous carbonatic deposits (Corradini et al. 1998); 3) finally, a Culm-like siliciclastic deposit of Lower Carboniferous age can be found on this succession. By contrast, in the Inner zone, the lithostratigraphic succession cannot be reconstructed, since

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for the combined effect of deformation and metamorphism the most characteristic rocks are micaschists, paragneisses, orthogneisses and migmatites, but the ages of protolithes are unknown, except for some eclogite for which an age of 800 million year has been suggested (Oggiano and Di Pisa 1992). The oldest deformation event recognized in the Palaeozoic basement of Sardinia is marked by the Sardic nonconformity taking the name of Sardic phase, recognizable also in other segments of the South Variscan Realm (i.e. Pyrenees), which involved rocks up to Lower Ordovician that were generally folded and faulted in a non-metamorphic condition. The relationship between this tectonic and complex evolution of the periGondwana terranes, of which the current Sardinia basement was part, is still poorly defined (von Raumer et al. 2012; Gaggero et al 2012). Then, the whole succession up to Lower Carboniferous was involved in the Variscan orogeny and deformed with ductile and brittle-ductile thrusts developed with a tectonic transport direction “top towards the SW”, and low- to high-angle normal faults developed during the collapsing of the thickened crust that occurred in the final oregenic stages (Conti et al 2001; Funedda 2009). This last phase was partially concurrent with the emplacement of a composite plutonic complex, extended in an outcrop for more than 6,000 square km, whose age ranges from Upper Carboniferous to Permian, the dyke complex and development of a volcano-sedimentary complex of the Upper Carboniferous-Lower Triassic age (Casini et al. 2012). The Variscan crystalline basement is the bone-structure of onshore Sardinia, and forms different landscapes as a product of more recent events. For this reason it constitutes many flat areas, generally in the southern part, as a consequence of several erosive events occurring in different periods. Besides the so called “Hercynian peneplane” in the Gerrei and Sarcidano, on which the Mesozoic cover rests, other flat surfaces involved both Variscan and Mesozoic (again in the GerreiSarcidano zone), highlighting a post-Mesozoic erosive event. Again, the highest areas, in the Gennargentu (up to 1,800 m a.s.l.), are made up of the Variscan basement, because of recent (Pliocene) uplift and erosion. North Sardinia is deeply characterized by the typical granitoids landscape, with rounded shapes produced where the erosion of the intrusive rocks was influenced by fractures related both to the low cooling of the plutons during their emplacement, and to the Cainozoic brittle tectonics. It should be underlined that the metamorphic basement hosts large metallic ore deposits, bearing different kinds of sulphides (with zinc, lead,

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barium, but also silver and, though not mined, gold) of “sedex type” or related to hydrothermal fluids coming from the late-orogenic plutons (Marcello et al. 2008). They were intensely exploited up to the sixties of the 20th century, but now mines have all been decommissioned and the several mine districts (Sulcis-Iglesiente, Arburese, Sarrabus, Nurra, just to quote the most important ones) are characterized by the occurrence of a huge volume of tailings that are potential sources of pollution for the surrounding environment.

Post-Variscan covers Nonconformable to the Variscan crystalline basement, there is a composite and thick Permian to Mesozoic and Cainozoic volcanosedimentary succession. It consists of several sedimentary and volcanosedimentary complexes, separated by angular unconformities, linked to the evolution of the present-day Mediterranean area. Following geodynamic criteria, the following five geological ensembles could be identified: i) The oldest deposits non-affected by the Variscan orogeny are clastic continental sediments with pyroclastites and lava flows of the Late Carboniferous to the Permian age (Cassinis et al. 1999). They are hosted in small basins scattered around the whole island, generally in depressions bounded by normal to transtentional faults that enhance structural lows inherited by the Late Variscan deformation (Pittau et al. 2008). These deposits could be basically considered as the “Variscan molassa” (i.e. the product of the destruction of the relief built up after the continental collision and consequent erosion). ii) Later on, with the drifting of the Pangea and the opening of the Tethys Ocean, an “Autochthonous cover of the ancient South European passive margin” developed. It consists of transitional to marine successions of Middle Triassic-Lower Eocene age. Among them the Mesozoic carbonatic succession that crops out in the NW (Nurra), SW (Sulcis), central (Sarcidano) and E (Baronie and Supramonte) should be particularly considered. This succession shows the typical facies of the ancient SEuropean margin, different from the coeval formations cropping out in the Alps and the Apennine that were deposited on the opposite southern margin of Tethys instead, along the palaeo N-Africa margin. Three different Mesozoic sub basins have been described so far, with differences in the lithostratigraphy that also highlight really different landscapes. The most complete succession appears in the Nurra (Jadoul et al. 2010), starting with the terrigenous to carbonatic up to evaporitic sediments of the Middle-Upper Triassic, from continental to marine, up to

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340 m thick. Later, alternating types of dolostone and limestone and less marls and shale deposited from the Jurassic to the Upper Cretaceous crop out. They are up to 1,300 m thick and witness a progressive change from littoral to open shelf environment, with an erosive angular nonconformity between the Lower and Upper Cretaceous, marked by bauxite ore deposits related to a marine regression probably linked to the early Alpine tectonics. Two systems of upright kilometre-sized folds, gently close, with a rounded hinge, involved the Mesozoic succession. The landscape of the NW side of the island is deeply influenced by these rounded reliefs (Monte Doglia, M. Timidone, etc.). Thus in the Nurra area there are isolated rounded hills, 100-200 m above the mean topographic level, that correspond to the antiforms, separated by flattened areas, generally the synforms covered by the Cainozoic cover. In the eastern zone (Baronie and Supramonte) the succession starts from the Middle Jurassic up to the Upper Cretaceous, with coarse arenites at the base, then dolostone and finally some carbonatic formations that again show the progressive change from littoral to an open shelf environment (Dieni and Massari 1987). They are about 700 m thick. In the Supramonte and Monte Albo, the landscape is strongly influenced by blocks with a monoclinal, east-dipping attitude, deformed by NE-SW to N-S trending left-sided strike-slip faults and related to north-trending folds (Oggiano et al. 2009). The landscape is thus really varied, with abrupt high cliffs alternating with some flattened versants, often reassembling a Dolomite-like landscape (although reliefs do not reach 1,300 m a.s.l.). In Central Sardinia the Mesozoic cover is reduced to several flattened, mesa-like outliers (local name: “Tacchi”), consisting of dolostone and limestone less than 100m thick (Costamagna and Barca 2004), that testify to an original widespread platform now only preserved in small pieces rejected by Cainozoic normal and strike-slip faults. All the above-described carbonatic succession is affected by karsting, strongly developed in the eastern side (Supramonte) where their macrofeatures have been thoroughly investigated for several years by speleologists. These thick successions are also noteworthy for water resources, still not adequately investigated for an appropriate use for civil and industrial purposes. The Mesozoic succession is unconformably covered by a Lower Eocene succession, regressive from littoral to paralic up to the continental environment in the SW (Sulcis-Iglesiente), where the most outstanding formation is the Lignitiferous, a carbonaceous paralic succession, mined for lignite. In the central east a littoral to marine succession prevails, made

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up of sandstone and limestone characterized by the widespread occurrence of macro-foraminifera (Nummulites) (Carmignani et al. 2012). After the Lower Eocene deposits, a sedimentary lacuna from the Middle to the Upper Oligocene occurred. Indeed, many authors in this time period described the deposit of a continental, clastic formation with widespread conglomerates, well exposed in the south: the Cixerri Formation, on whose age and tectonic meaning there is no general agreement yet (Carmignani et al. 2004). The South European passive margin, to which contemporary Sardinia was closer, was later gradually involved in the formation of the Pyrenees, the Alps and the Apennines. Three volcanic sedimentary successions have already been described (Oggiano et al. 2009; Lecca et al. 1997; Assorgia et al. 1997; Casula et al. 2001), each one related to a different stage of the progressive convergence between the S-European margin and the Adria plate: iii) A “Complex connected with the west-dipping subduction of Adria” unconformably rests on all the previously described successions (“1st Miocene cycle”). It consists of a volcano-sedimentary succession (from Oligocene to Lower Burdigalian) with continental, transitional and marine deposits associated with volcanic rocks belonging to the OligoceneMiocene calc-alkaline volcanic cycle, represented by prevailing andesitic suites. The sedimentary deposits are coarse arenites at the base that progressively become littoral silici-clastic with a carbonatic matrix and finally marls. These formations are the filling of several basins oriented about N060° in the north and about N150° in the south, related to strikeslip tectonics connected to the convergence of the South European margin to the Adria plate (Oggiano et al. 1995). Along the same N060° faults both an extensional and transpressive dynamic developed, depending on the geometry of the fault planes (i.e. Monte Albo), originating the above mentioned basins and, more rarely, positive flower structures. The leftlateral strike-slip tectonics developing both in N-Sardinia and in S-Corsica are interpreted as hinterland deformation related to the convergence and probably the collision that originated the N-Apennines. iv) A “Complex connected with the opening of the Algero-Provençal and N-Tyrrhenian basins” (“2nd Miocene cycle”), with marine and continental deposits of the Upper Burdigalian-Lower Serravallian age, and associate volcanic rocks (from calcalkaline to peralkaline), with prevailing rio-dacitic suites. This stage seems related to the emplacement of the Algero-Provençal basin, and the progressive anticlockwise rotation of Sardinia-Corsica that eventually drifted away from contemporary Catalonia and Provence.

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v) A “Complex related to the opening of the S-Tyrrhenian basin”, (“3rd Miocene cycle”) developed as a flexural retreat of the subducted slab, keeps on eastwards, with the drifting of Calabria until then linked to Sardinia. On the Island the Upper Miocene successions unconformably rest on the 2nd Miocene cycle. They are continental to littoral clastic deposits, mainly sandstone and marine limestone up to the Messinian age. Successively, Pliocene continental and (rare) marine sediments were deposited, partially interlayered with within-plate basaltic lava flows, alkaline, transitional and subalkaline volcanic cycles. The present day landscape is deeply related to this late stage of the Cainozoic tectonic evolution. The progressive uplift of the Island enhanced the erosion of the higher zone, and probably started off the development of the N150° trending Campidano through, the main extensional feature recognizable onshore related to the South Tyrrhenian opening. The through, from recent investigation based on seismic profiles (Cocco et al. 2013), looks like two half-graben with a vertical displacement along the master faults of about 1,000 m, and it is filled with a continental clastic formation up to 800 m thick. A record of the progressive late Cainozoic uplift is given by the relief inversion recorded by the Pliocene basalt lava flows. The oldest ones (ca. 3-4 Ma) are now mesa-like plateaux (local name “Giara” in central-southern Sardinia) but the youngest (less than 1 Ma) are only partially or not inverted (Logudoro region, N-Sardinia), with morphology still related to the landscape at the time of their emplacement. Similar structures are also described in the seismic profiles traced offshore of the east coast. Although not as widespread as in the Variscan basement, the Cainozoic cover - mainly in the Aquitanian to the Langhian volcanic succession also includes important ore deposits, among them the gold and copper deposits exploited in Marmilla and the one just investigated in Anglona. Several ore deposits, less valuable but relevant for industry, are those of bentonite and silicic sands hosted in different Miocene formations. In many of the clastic formations of the Cainoizoic there are some of the island’s most exploited aquifers. Among them the sandstones and sands of the Burdigalian to the Serravallian in N- Sardinia (i.e. Limestones of Mores, Sands of Florinas, etc.) and the Aquitanian to the Serravallian formations in the south of the island (i.e. Nurallao fm., Marmilla fm., Sandstones of Pirri fm., etc.) are to be highlighted. Also the PlioPleistocene infilling of the Campidano through in southern Sardinia (Samassi fm.) hosted several aquifers only superficially exploited.

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The deep-seated faults related to Tertiary strike-slip tectonics constitute hydrothermal circuits that bring to the surfaces many geothermal fluids, sometimes reaching 100°C, just partially investigated (Angelone et al. 2005). Finally, the coastal plains are covered by Quaternary sediments, mostly represented by continental deposits and by a subordinated lagoon and marine-littoral deposits, some of them still in evolution, except for the most important plains, which could be higher than 80 m. These deposits, made up of different rocks related to the progressive evolution of the coast line and its relationship with the flow of sediments coming from the onshore, host several aquifers often over-exploited for civil and agricultural activities.

References Angelone, Massimo, C. Gasparini, M. Guerra, S. Lombardi, Luca Pizzino, Fedora Quattrocchi, Elisa Sacchi and Gian M. Zuppi. “Fluid geochemistry of the Sardinian Rift-Campidano Graben (Sardinia, Italy): fault segmentation, seismic quiescence of geochemically “active” faults, and new constraints for selection of CO2 storage sites.” Applied Geochemistry 20, pp. 317-340, 2005. Assorgia, Antonio, Sebastiano Barca and Carlo Spano. “A synthesis on the cenozoic stratigraphic, tectonic and volcanic evolution in Sardinia (Italy).” Bollettino della Società Geologica Italiana 116, pp. 407-420, 1997. Carmignani, Luigi, Antonio Funedda, Giacomo Oggiano and Sandro Pasci. “Tectono-sedimentary evolution of southwest Sardinia in the Paleogene: Pyrenaic or Apenninic Dynamic?” Geodinamica Acta 17, pp. 275-287, 2004 Carmignani, Luigi, Giacomo Oggiano, Antonio Funedda, Paolo Conti, Sandro Pasci and Sebastiano Barca. Carta geologica della Sardegna (Geological map of Sardinia), scale 1:250000, Florence: Litografia Artistica Cartografica, 2008. Carmignani, Luigi, Giacomo Oggiano, Sebastiano Barca, Paolo Conti, Ilio Salvadori, Antonio Eltrudis, Antonio Funedda and Sandro Pasci. Geologia della Sardegna. Note illustrative della Carta Geologica in scala 1:200.000. Rome: 2001, p. 283. Carmignani, Luigi, Paolo Conti, Antonio Funedda, Giacomo Oggiano and Sandro Pasci. “La geologia della Sardegna.” Geological Field Trips 4, pp. 1-104, 2012.

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Casini, Leonardo, Stefano Cuccuru, Matteo Maino, Giacomo Oggiano and Massimo Tiepolo. “Emplacement of the Arzachena Pluton (CorsicaSardinia Batholith) and the geodynamics of incoming Pangaea.” Tectonophysics 544-545, pp. 31-49, 2012. Cassinis, Giuseppe, Luciano Cortesogno, Laura Gaggero, Paola Pittau, Ausonio Ronchi and Edoardo Sarria. “Late Paleozoic continental basins of Sardinia.” In The Continental Permian of the Southern Alps and Sardinia (Italy). Regional reports and general correlations, edited by Cassinis, Giuseppe, 116. Brescia: Earth Science Department Pavia, 1999. Casula, Giulio, Antonietta Cherchi, Lucien Montadert, Marco Murru and Edoardo Sarria. “The cenozoic graben system of Sardinia (Italy): geodynamic evolution from new seismic and field data.” Marine and Petroleum Geology 18, pp. 863-888, 2001. Cocco, Fabrizio, Antonio Funedda, Etta Patacca and Paolo Scandone. “Plio-Pleistocene extensional tectonics in the Campidano graben (SW Sardinia, Italy): preliminary note.” Rendiconti online della Società Geologica Italiana 29, pp. 31-34, 2013. Conti, Paolo, Luigi Carmignani and Antonio Funedda. “Change of nappe transport direction during the Variscan collisional evolution of centralsouthern Sardinia (Italy).” Tectonophysics 332, pp. 255-273, 2001. Corradini, Carlo, Annalisa Ferretti and Enrico Serpagli. “The Silurian and Devonian sequence in SE Sardinia.” Giornale di geologia 60, pp. 7174, 1998. Costamagna, Luca and Sebastiano Barca. “Stratigrafia, analisi di facies, paleogeografia ed inquadramento regionale della successione giurassica dell’area dei Tacchi (Sardegna Orientale).” Bollettino della Società Geologica Italiana 123, pp. 477-496, 2004. Dieni, Iginio and Francesco Massari. “Le Mésozoique de la Sardaigne orientale”. In Groupe Française du Crétacé, (Excursion en Sardaigne 1987), edited by Antonietta Cherchi, pp. 125-134, 1987. Funedda, Antonio. “Foreland-and hinterland-verging structures in foldand-thrust belt: an example from the Variscan foreland of Sardinia.” International Journal of Earth Science 98, pp. 1625-1642, 2009. Gaggero, Laura, Giacomo Oggiano, Antonio Funedda and Laura Buzzi. “Rifting and arc-related early Paleozoic volcanism along the North Gondwana margin: geochemical and geological evidence from Sardinia (Italy).” Journal of Geology 120, pp. 273-292, 2012. Jadoul, Flavio, Alessandro Lanfranchi, Fabrizio Berra, Elisabetta Erba, Cristina Casellato, Antonietta Cherchi, Lucia Simone, Rolf Schroeder, Gabriele Carannante and Angelo Ibba. “I sistemi carbonatici giurassici

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della Sardegna orientale (Golfo di Orosei) ed eventi deposizionali nel sistema carbonatico giurassico-cretacico della Nurra (Sardegna nordoccidentale).” Geological Field Trips 2, pp. 1-122, 2010. Lecca, Luciano, Roberto Lonis, Santina Luxoro, Edoardo Melis, Francesco Secchi and Piero Brotzu. “Oligo-Miocene volcanic sequences and rifting stages in Sardinia: a review.” Periodico di Mineralogia 66, pp. 7-61, 1997. Leone, Francesco, Wolfgang Hamman, Rainer Laske, Enrico Serpagli and Enrique Villas. “Lithostratigraphic units and biostratigraphy of the post-sardic Ordovician sequence in south-west Sardinia.” Bollettino della Società Paleontologica Italiana 30, pp. 201-235, 1991. Marcello, Alberto, Antonello Mazzella, Stefano Naitza, Salvatore Pretti, Sandro Tocco, Paolo Valera and Roberto Valera. Carta metallogenica e delle georisorse della Sardegna (Metallogenic and geo-resources map of Sardinia), scale 1:250000, Florence: Litografia Artistica Cartografica, 2008. Oggiano, Giacomo and Alberto Di Pisa. “Geologia della catena ercinica in Sardegna-Zona assiale.” In Struttura della Catena Ercinica in Sardegna. Guida all’Escursione, edited by Carmignani, Luigi, Pier Carlo Pertusati, Sebastiano Barca, Rodolfo Carosi, Alberto Di Pisa, Marco Gattiglio, Giovanni Musumeci and Giacomo Oggiano, pp. 147167. Siena: Gruppo Informale di Geologia Strutturale, 1992. Oggiano, Giacomo, Antonio Funedda, Luigi Carmignani and Sandro Pasci. “The Sardinia-Corsica microplate and its role in the Northern Apennine Geodynamics: new insights from the Tertiary intraplate strike-slip tectonics of Sardinia.” Italian Journal of Geosciences 128, pp. 527-541, 2009. Oggiano, Giacomo, Laura Gaggero, Antonio Funedda, Laura Buzzi and Massimo Tiepolo. “Multiple early Palaeozoic volcanic events at the northern Gondwana margin: U-Pb age evidence from the Southern Variscan branch (Sardinia, Italy).” Gondwana Research 17 pp. 44-58, 2010. Oggiano, Giacomo, Sandro Pasci and Antonio Funedda. “Il bacino di Chilivani-Berchidda: un esempio di struttura trastensiva. Possibili relazioni con la geodinamica cenozoica del Mediterraneo occidentale.” Bollettino della Società Geologica Italiana 114, pp. 465-475, 1995. Pillola, G. Luigi “Lithologie et trilobites du Cambrien inferieur du SW de la Sardaigne (Italie): implications paléobiogéographiques.” Comptes Rendus de l’Académie des Sciences de Paris 310, pp. 321-328, 1990. Pittau, Paola, Miriam Del Rio and Antonio Funedda. “Relationships between plant communities characterization and Basin formation in the

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Carboniferous-Permian of Sardinia.” Bollettino della Società Geologica Italiana 127, pp. 18-36, 2008. Rossi, Philippe, Giacomo Oggiano and Alain Cocherie. “A restored section of the “southern Variscan realm” across the Corsica-Sardinia microcontinent.” Comptes Rendus Geosciences 341, pp. 224-238, 2009. Von Raumer, Jürgen, Francois Bussy, Urs Schaltegger, Bernhard Schulz and Gérard M. Stampfli. “Pre-Mesozoic Alpine basements. Their place in the European Paleozoic framework.” Geological Society of America Bulletin 125, pp. 89-108, 2012.

CHAPTER THREE CLIMATE, CLIMATE CHANGE AND DESERTIFICATION ANDREA MOTRONI

Ester: «Perché la sorte ci punisce così come punirebbe le canne?» Efix: «Sì, siamo esattamente come le canne al vento. Noi siamo le canne e la sorte il vento». Ester: «Sì, va bene, ma perché questa sorte?» Efix: «E perché il vento? Solo Dio lo sa». (Grazia Deledda, “Canne al vento”, 1913)1

Sardinia’s climate is generally classified as “Mediterranean”. Mediterranean climates are located between regions with a tropical-desert and those with a marine-coast climate. They generally lie between 30 and 40 degrees latitude. Hot-dry summers and mild-wet winters characterize these regions; therefore, the Mediterranean basin can be considered as a transitional area between tropical zones, where seasons are determined by rainfall occurrence, and temperate zones, where seasons are determined by variations in temperature values. Consequently, interseasonal variations in precipitation amounts and in temperature values are great, but usually do not present the extreme values typical of those two climatic areas (Chritchfield, 1983; Martyn, 1992). The Mediterranean basin is characterized by the highest frequency and concentration of cyclogenesis events. The majority of cyclones are formed in the Gulf of Genoa, because of the position of the Alps and the high temperature gradient between central Northern Europe and the Mediterranean Sea. In the transition periods of March-April and September-October, the most intense cyclogenetic rain events occur. The

1

Ester: «Why does fate punish us like reeds?» Efix: «Yes, we are exactly like reeds in the wind. We are reeds and fate is the wind». Ester: «Yes, but why this fate?» Efix: «And why the wind? Only God knows». Grazia Deledda, “Reeds in the Wind”, 1913. Nobel Prize in Literature, 1926.

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Mediterranean climate is influenced by the presence of relevant orographic systems along the Mediterranean basin that lead to major cyclone activity. The great seasonal differences are due to the northward migration of the upper limit of high-pressure cells typical of subtropical areas. In summer, high-pressure cells reach the Mediterranean area, causing atmospheric stability, which can lead to typical arid, subtropical conditions in June, July and August, with high maximum temperature values. In the winter season, the cells leave the Mediterranean Sea and lay in the North African region. Humid air flows and cold polar fronts characterize autumn, winter and part of spring in this area. Climatic driving forces in Sardinia are also its complex orography, the distance from the sea of inner areas, and the exposure to dominant westerly winds from the west/northwest quadrants. All these factors contribute to the definition of climatic micro-regions of the island. Temperatures in Sardinia (Figure 3.1) are characterized by two transition periods before winter and summer: the former occurs in September-November, the latter in March-April. Temperature values largely depend on orography and altitude. The mountain chains of Limbara and Marghine (central north) and the complex of Gennargentu (central), Sette Fratelli and Monte Linas (southeast and southwest, respectively) contribute to creating particular climatic conditions as barriers for orographic lifts, protecting downward areas from cold north-western dominant winds, especially in the eastern coast, and causing thermal inversion in the valleys. Winter temperature values are mainly determined by the stabilizing effect of the sea (the inner areas of the island show a “continental” behaviour), while summer temperature values are influenced by the stabilizing effect of anticyclone cells and a north-south gradient can be seen (maximum temperature values showing also a west-east gradient). Maximum and minimum temperatures show the same spatial and temporal behaviour, but minimum temperature values show less variability. An analysis of maximum and minimum temperature data from about 60 weather stations located evenly across Sardinia was conducted for the reference period2 1961-1990. The yearly maximum mean temperature for

2

The World Meteorological Organization (WMO) establishes the current climate normal reference periods used by climatologists to compare current climatological trends to the past ones or what is considered “normal”. A Normal is defined as the arithmetic average of a climate element (e.g. temperature) over a 30-year period. A 30-year period is used, as it is long enough to filter out any inter-annual variation or anomalies, but also short enough to be able to show longer climatic trends. The

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Sardinia is 20.4°C; the hottest month is usually July (mean maximum temperature 30.5°C). The average minimum temperature for the year is 10.5°C and the coldest month is January (mean minimum temperature 4.9°C). Notable thermal differences can be found in microclimatological areas of the island: the warmest parts of the island are the Campidano, between Oristano and Cagliari, and the southwestern region of Sulcis, where average maximum temperature in August can constantly remain above 34°C and hardly ever gets under 7°C. Some mountainous areas of the inner regions (see above) present much cooler climatic conditions: the average values of minimum temperature lies in the 6-8°C range, while mean maximum values never get higher than 16-18°C. The coldest month of the studied period 1971-2000 was January 1973 (monthly mean 3.2°C), while the hottest month was recorded in July 1985 (monthly mean 35.6°C). Hot and cold. The highest temperature ever recorded is 48°C in Macomer, central northern Sardinia, 5th August 1965. The coldest day ever was 3rd February 1956 in Vallicciola (Limbara Mountains, northeast). 1956 has also been the coldest year in the last 100 years, 2003 the warmest.

Precipitation behaviour varies consistently in different microclimatic regions of Sardinia, where in Gallura and Limbara (northeast), in Campeda (central-west area), in Gennargentu and Ogliastra (central-east) and in some mountains of the southwest rainfall amounts reach their highest values (see Figure 3.1). The driest areas are the plains in the northwest (Nurra), in the southwest (Campidano) and some smaller spots in central and northeast Sardinia. The lowest climatic annual values of rainfall do not reach 400mm (380 mm) in southwest Sardinia, one of the hottest and driest areas of the island. Maximum rain values are normally recorded in the Gennargentu area and they usually get above 1,200 mm. Sardinia’s climatic average is around 650 mm, but during the last three decades the general annual mean has slightly decreased (from 700 mm in 1971-80 to 642 mm in the late years of 1990-2000). The wettest month is generally November (usually more than 100 mm/month) while the driest is usually July. Usually 80 is the maximum number of rainy days per year in Sardinia and this pattern occurs generally in the areas where it rains the most, as could be supposed. The eastern coast, where large amounts of rain are concentrated in less than 50 rainy days/year, represents the only exception. This weird behaviour is due to different rain regimes that affect current climate normal period is calculated from 1st January 1961 to 31st December 1990 (WMO, 2014).

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Sardinian territory: the northwest and southwest regimes are mainly frontal regimes (higher frequency, not very intense rain events). The central-eastern regime is associated to southeasterly winds which impact the coastal orography when cyclones move along the coast of North Africa lead to convective rain events (less frequent, heavy rain) that can cause floods and disasters. Rain and floods. Together with drought and fires (although mostly humaninduced), floods are the worst natural hazards that affect Sardinian territory. Among others, during the last 65 years major floods occurred in Gairo (Ogliastra region, centre-east) where in October 1951 a whole town was swept away by 1500 mm of rain fall in 4 days (the town was rebuilt several hundred metres uphill and renamed Gairo di Sopra or “Upper Gairo”). Most recently, two major events involved the small town of Capoterra (west of Cagliari) in November 1999 and in October 2008. During this last event about 376 mm were recorded in 8 hours. Another major event was tragically recorded in Villagrande Strisaili in December 2006, when more than 500 mm fell in less than 48 hours and 2 people lost their lives. The last flood occurred in November 2013 in Olbia: on this occasion more than 450 mm of rain fell in a few hours, with 19 people killed. Uncontrolled urbanization and insufficient management of ditches and water channels are usually the basic reasons behind such tragedies.

Wind and Sardinia have an important relationship, because of the intensity and frequency of this meteorological variable in the island. It is hard to describe the climatology of Sardinia’s wind, because of its intrinsic variability due to the dynamic and thermodynamic situation of the atmosphere and also to the geographic and orographic variability of our region. Wind records are greatly influenced by altitude, aspect, and the presence of natural and artificial barriers (trees, hills, mountains, buildings); therefore the position of weather stations is a critical issue as far as validity and interpretation of historical data is concerned. An analysis of climatological wind data for Sardinia shows how the number of days per year with no wind or calm winds (meaning 8.0 ms-1 and >13.5 ms-1, respectively). The highest wind speeds ever recorded in Sardinia occurred in the Maddalena Archipelago (21st February 1963, and more recently 19th November 1990) with 86 knots (about 160 kmh-1) of wind from the northwest (Mistral). The windiest days, considering the whole island territory, were recorded in February 1972 when all weather stations measured winds above 42 knots (about 80 kmh-1).

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Concerning the prevalent direction from which wind blows, the most frequent winds are from 270°-315°, i.e. from the 4th quadrant, west/northwest. This is particularly the case for stronger winds (with at least a wind speed above 13.5ms-1) and in particular locations (central Sardinia, northeastern and northwestern coasts), but in some cases (Asinara, Capo Bellavista, Capo Frasca) the most powerful winds come from the east, northeast and southeast, respectively. Wind Proof. Records show that the windiest place in Sardinia is Guardiavecchia (La Maddalena National Park) where windy days take up 75% of the year and 1 day out of 3 presents maximum wind speed above 13.5 ms-1 (26.5 knots). Where does it come from? From west/northwest, of course!

Are Sardinian climatic conditions changing? Which are the possible effects on natural environment and crops? It is hard to give an answer to such a question. Although Sardinia is a big island, climate modelling and predictions work better on a broader scale where climatic scenarios are more reliable and approximations acceptable (Wilby et al., 2004). Since 1988 the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has released five Report Assessments where Earth climatic conditions and projections are reported, while mitigation and adaptation measures are shown and outlined. Global Circulation Models run by the IPCC show an increase in mean temperature for the Mediterranean Basin of 1.5°÷3°C and a decrease of 10-20% in mean annual rainfall rate in 2100, depending on the severity of emissions conditions and climatic scenarios (IPCC, 2013). On a regional scale, climate change projections performed with high-resolution models of the Mediterranean Sea indicate that remarkable changes in the regional climate might occur already in the early few decades of the time window considered (Navarra et al., 2013). A substantial warming (§1.5°C in winter and 2°C in summer) and a significant decrease in precipitation (§-5%) might affect the region in the 2021-2050 period compared to the reference period (1961-1990) in A1B emission scenario (Gualdi et al., 2013). Downscaling climatic scenarios might be useful in adaptation studies but these need to consider the specific characteristics and features of a particular territory or area. Qualitative, good climatic measured data help in calibrating climate scenarios, in modelling them and in validating processes (Wilby et al., 2004). Observed climate data from weather stations located evenly throughout Sardinia show how in the last century temperature has slightly increased, in particular in its maximum values (+ 0.7°C). These values reach almost

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1.0°C in the coastal areas and in particular microclimatic conditions in the inner portion of the island. More controversial are the results coming from rainfall data analysis. One-century data set from weather stations spread all over Sardinia shows that average annual rainfall amounts are slightly diminishing. However, the last six decades have been characterized by a great variability in rain amounts and occurrence of dry spells. For example, the period 1998-2003 was one of the driest of the last 60 years all over Sardinia, and 2003 the warmest year since 1922; water restrictions were imposed and both agriculture and tourism were affected by severe droughts. The year after, 2004, registered the highest rain amount of the previous 40 years, thus suddenly interrupting six years of increased dry and difficult conditions. Rather than a change in the average annual rainfall amounts, there is a change in the rain behaviour. Frequency of precipitation events of less than 5 mm has decreased, while rainfall of more than 50 mm is becoming more frequent. Desertification is one of the consequences of climate change and variability, as stressed by the definition used by the United Nations Environmental Programme (“land degradation in arid, semi-arid and dry sub-humid areas resulting from various factors, including climatic variations and human activities”, UNEP, 1994), commonly adopted by the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD). Causes of desertification phenomena in Sardinia include: a) extreme climatic events like drought/floods; b) pressure on the territory such as overgrazing, uncontrolled urbanization/country areas abandonment; c) excessive exploitation of water resources; and d) fires and deforestation. Starting from 2002, a GIS-based desertification monitoring system has been established by ARPAS in collaboration with the Desertification Research Department of the University of Sassari. In particular, climatic driving forces have been studied and applied to several models in order to a) obtain a general map of sensitivity to desertification on a local scale and b) give support to several institutions in water management studies and soil erosion modelling. As for the first goal, ESA (Environmentally Sensitive Areas to Desertification) methodology (Kosmas et al., 1999) was applied to Sardinian conditions. ESA method has been used in different areas of the Mediterranean basin and results can be easily compared with those achieved in similar studies which include a good integration of physical, biological and human factors involved in desertification processes. Fifteen biophysical and socioeconomic indicators and four indices classifying the

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territory in potential, fragile and critical areas to desertification were considered. Soil, climate, vegetation and management quality indices were estimated in order to outline causes of weakness of Sardinian land and environmental fragilities. The final result of the methodology is the ESA Index that is obtained by the geometric mean of the four indexes (SQI, CQI, VQI and MQI). GIS technology was applied for calculating as thematic layers the geometric mean as follow: ESAI = (SQI*CQI*VQI*MQI)1/4. The final ESAl index and map (see Figure 3.2) indicate areas not affected and areas with increasing sensitivity to desertification and, lastly, very critical conditions, where land degradation is already ongoing. While fragile areas are those where any change in the delicate balance between natural and human activity is likely to bring about desertification, critical areas have already been highly degraded by past misuse, presenting a threat to the surrounding areas. This map is also intended to support local policy makers in territorial and landscape planning. About 50% of Sardinian territory is threatened by critical conditions that might lead to desertification processes (Figure 3.2.) (Motroni et al., 2008). Avoiding fires, overgrazing, water exploitation for irrigation purposes, abandonment of agricultural land or intensifying farming in other areas, together with energetic sustainable politics aimed at mitigating climate change are the main actions even local stakeholders need to undertake in order to plan the best use and resource allocation in Sardinia.

References Chessa, Piero and Alessandro Delitala. Il clima della Sardegna. Nota tecnica 2. Servizio Agrometeorologico Regionale per la Sardegna, edited by Antonio Milella. 1997. Critchfield, Howard J. General Climatology. Englewood Cliffs: PrenticeHall, 1983. Gualdi, Silvio and Co-authors.: “The CIRCE simulations: a new set of regional climate change projections performed with a realistic representation of the Mediterranean Sea”. Bull. Amer. Meteo. Soc. 1994, pp. 65-81, 2012. IPCC-AR5. Climate Change 2013: The Physical Science Basis. Contribution of Working Group I to the Fifth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, edited by T.F. Stocker, D. Qin, G.-K. Plattner, M. Tignor, S.K. Allen, J. Boschung, A. Nauels,

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Y. Xia, V. Bex and P.M. Midgley. Cambridge, UK and New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, www.ipcc.ch/report/ar5, 2013. Kosmas, Costas, Jean Poesen, Helen Briassouli. “Key indicators of desertification at the ESA scale”. In The MEDALUS project – Mediterranean desertification and land use. Brussels: European Commission, 1999. Martyn, Danuta. Climates of the World (Developments in Atmospheric Science). Amsterdam: Elsevier, 1992. Motroni, Andrea, Simona Canu, Giuseppe Bianco and Giosuè Loj. “Monitoring Sensitive Areas To Desertification In Sardinia: The Contribute Of The Regional Agrometeorological Service”. In Desertification and Risk Analysis Using High and Medium Resolution Satellite Data, edited by Alberto Marini and Mohamed Talbi, Chapter 10, pp. 117-128. Dordrecht: Springer, 2008. Navarra Antonio, Laurence Tubiana. “Regional Assessment of Climate Change in the Mediterranean”. Advances in Global Change Research 50. Dordrecht: Springer, 2013. UNEP. United Nations Convention to combat Desertification in those countries experiencing serious drought and/or desertification, particularly in Africa. Geneva: UNEP, 1994. Wilby, Robert L., Stephen P. Charles, Eduardo Zorita, Bertrand Timbal, Penny Whetton, Linda O. Mearns. Guidelines for use of climatic scenarios developed from statistical downscaling methods, www.ipccdata.org/.../dgm_no2_v1_09_2004.pdf, 2004.

CHAPTER FOUR HYDROGEOLOGICAL ASSESSMENT OF SARDINIA AND RELATED ISSUES GIORGIO GHIGLIERI AND STEFANIA DA PELO

Groundwater Resources: Overview Fresh water is a limited resource; it is essential for agriculture, industry, and for the existence of mankind. Surface and groundwater resources, considered both in their quantitative and qualitative aspect, are an essential and determining factor for preserving and developing every form of life, and, as such, they are absolutely necessary to sustain and balance the development of various types of natural environments, as well as for the socio-economic growth of a territory. Qualitative and quantitative degradation of such resources imply a serious environmental issue, as supplies for household, agricultural, and industrial use rely on their exploitation. Anthropic pressures, also connected to productive activities and their related impact (uncontrolled sewage discharges, pesticides and fertilizers, overexploitation of groundwater, sea water intrusion phenomena, etc.), can generate qualitative and quantitative degradation of this resource, making it unsuitable to its several uses and, in particular, to its most valuable ones (drinkable and environmental). In particular, groundwater resources are the largest fresh water supply in the world, making up more than 97% of all the available fresh water on the earth (save for glaciers and polar caps). The remaining 3% is mainly composed of surface water (lakes, rivers, wetlands) and of the humidity of the soil. Until recently, the attention paid to groundwater was mainly focused on its use as drinkable water (for instance, because for groundwater, the water supply covers around 75% of the inhabitants of the European Union), while acknowledging it as an important resource for industry (e.g. cooling water) and agriculture (irrigation). Anyway, it has

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become increasingly obvious that groundwater must not be considered just as a reserve water supply, and that it should be preserved for its environmental value as well. Groundwater plays an essential role in the hydrologic cycle; it is important for nutrition in wetlands and rivers, and it is a reservoir during dry periods. Groundwater represents a “hidden resource”, quantitatively more significant than surface water. Pollution prevention, monitoring, and recovery are more difficult than for surface water, due to groundwater’s inaccessibility. Such “hidden” features make it hard to locate, characterize, and adequately understand the effects of pollution, which often leads to a lack of awareness and/or of proof concerning the amount of risks and pressures. By the way, recent reports show that pollution due to household, agricultural, and industrial sources is still a main cause of degradation, despite major advancements in some areas, either directly through sewage (effluent), or indirectly because of the spreading of nitrogenous fertilizers and phytosanitary products, as well as through the leaching of old industrial sites or the disposal of contaminated waste (dumping grounds, pits, industries, etc.). While point sources caused the most part of the pollution identified up to now, there is evidence that non-point sources are causing a growing impact on groundwater. For instance, nitrate concentrations are presently exceeding the threshold values imposed by EU regulations in around one third of the groundwater bodies in Europe. Starting from the premise that surface and groundwater have to be considered as belonging to one system, the question of their management has to pass through the knowledge of quantitative and qualitative variables – including time trends evaluation – of all water supplies and the peculiarities of the territory. That is to say understanding and taking into account the high complexity of socio-economic factors (anthropic pressures) and natural ecological conditions, through a multidisciplinary approach. For a thorough and dynamic evaluation of the environmental condition (qualitative and quantitative) of water resources and the areas at risk for degradation, as well as for planning suitable protective measures, it is necessary to arrange monitoring plans. Moreover, the Convention to Combat Drought and Desertification (UNCCD), adopted during the Conference of the United Nations on Environment and Development held in Rio, defines Desertification as “land degradation in arid, semi-arid and dry sub-humid areas” deriving mainly from negative human impacts. This definition, which mainly focuses on soil degradation, may need to be reinterpreted for water resources. Moreover, the meaning given to the word “desertification” is

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generally and commonly linked to the concept of partial or total lack of water. Both from a qualitative and a quantitative point of view, surface and groundwater resources are an essential factor for the conservation and development of any form of life. The deterioration of water resources, which has a negative impact on the natural environment and on the socioeconomic growth of an area, is a key indicator of desertification (UNEP, 1994; Barbieri et al., 2005; Ghiglieri et al., 2006, 2009b.).

General hydrogeological setting of Sardinia The island of Sardinia is settled in the heart of the Mediterranean Sea, facing North Africa. This geographic position gives it a mild climate and a natural scarcity of water resources, making the territory vulnerable to desertification processes. Climate conditions changed in the last fifteen years, causing longlasting periods of drought and other environmentally disastrous events such as prolonged or intense rainfalls, which had negative effects on the hydrogeological system with floods and landslides. Water supply in Sardinia is assured mainly by surface water resources, which are regulated through dams. The needs of a growing population, particularly pressing in summer, face the reduced meteoric water resources available to fulfil peak demands by residents and tourists. The development of new urban areas and the expansion of historical settlements have led to the loss of agricultural areas of primary interest, and conflicts often arise between users for the allocation of water resources (Barbieri and Barrocu, 1984; Ghiglieri et al., 2006). In many areas, though, groundwater is an important alternative source for water resources but, up to now, it is not rationally used because there is not a public service to control and monitor this exploitation. The lack of management in its use is leading to a qualitative-quantitative deterioration of groundwater (overexploitation, salt-water intrusion in the coastal aquifers, biological or chemical pollution, etc.) and also to socio-economic conflicts between the competing demands. In Sardinia, besides a lack of hydrogeological and hydrochemical information, which is only sporadic and not homogeneous, the hydrogeological complexity of the island must be further taken into account. In a surface area of 24,000 km2, all lithological types are represented, from tectonic processes of the Precambrian to the present day. The geological features of Sardinia are very complex and this is clearly reflected in its hydrogeological structures. Deep and shallow aquifers may

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be identified, though they are often locally interconnected. Waters infiltrate and circulate at depth along the major faults and thrusts displacing the Palaeozoic crystalline bedrock and overlaying formations in up-faulted and down-faulted blocks. Locally, deep hot groundwaters flow from springs and wells, but generally their temperature is moderate as in discharge areas hot waters become mixed with cool waters from the upper aquifer levels. Their heat is due to the geothermic effect associated with their deep circulation (Bertorino et al., 1982; Loddo et al., 1982). Based on the literature and on the results of research projects the general hydrogeological assessment of Sardinia is described hereafter. The overall picture of the knowledge on groundwater has not been exhaustive so far, with a significant lack of information on hydrogeological features, geometry and the potential of aquifers and the entity of the samples. The bibliographical information on groundwater bodies at a regional scale is absolutely insufficient, and also the information on groundwater collected by the authorities and the institutions in charge does not provide exhaustive results. In particular, at the regional level, the only systematic works useful to characterize groundwater have been: Ricerche Idriche Sotterranee in Sardegna - Progetto Speciale CASMEZ n° 25 [Groundwater Research in Sardinia – Special Project CASMEZ n. 25] and the Sistema Informativo delle acque sotterranee della Sardegna (SIRIS) [Information system of Sardinian groundwater]. The outcomes of the first project date back to more than thirty-five years ago, and are thus affected by remarkable limitations concerning mainly the analysis of deep wells, which at the time were not so numerous, and the lack of data computerization that makes the survey of little use, save for a consultation to look for water points; existing chemical, physical, and bacteriological analyses can only be used as historical reference data. The second project was completed in 2001, and its aim was to create an informative system to manage information on groundwater. According to Caboi et al. (1982) and the SIRIS project, seven hydrogeological complexes were recognized on the basis of their permeability. However, to deal exhaustively with the complexity of the hydrogeological outline of the Sardinian territory, the bibliography lists also some recent works published in national and international journals on this topic. A synthetic description of the island’s hydrogeological assessment is given below:

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1. High-permeability complexes, essentially dolomitic-limestone, 100700 m thick. They are represented by the Cambrian carbonate aquifer of the Sulcis and Iglesiente areas, often in sub-vertical attitude and by the Mesozoic aquifers of the Nurra district (Ghiglieri et al. 2006; 2007; 2008; 2009a, b,), of Mount Albo, of the Orosei Gulf, of the Oliena Supramonte, of the Sarcidano, and of the “Tacchi” of Ogliastra and Barbagia. They are also represented by the Miocene carbonate aquifers of Logudoro, Anglona, and Sarcidano. 2. High-permeability volcanic complexes of Montiferru and Logudoro. Basalts, with related scoriaceous and cavernous types of lava lying on phonolitic trachytes, of about 250 m thickness, dating back to the Pliocene. 3. Medium-permeability complexes, largely represented by the Quaternary alluvial lithological unit, which in its lower strata dates probably back to the Pliocene. Thickness of this complex is up to 200 m; it spreads out mostly in the Campidano graben and, to a lesser extent, in some limited coast flats (e.g. Nurra, Sarrabus Gerrei, Low Sulcis). 4. Medium- or low-permeability complexes, sedimentary or volcanic, mostly from the Tertiary, with up to 800 m thickness. Sandstone, arenaceous or calcareous marls, ignimbrite, tufa, andesite, etc., of Logudoro, Anglona, Trexenta, Sulcis and Quirra areas. 5. Medium- or low-permeability complexes, mostly alluvial, of the Pliocene, thickness 200-500 m, called “Samassi Formation”, in the subsoil of the Campidano graben and around the area of Cagliari. 6. Low-permeability granitic-schistose-metamorphic complex, more or less fractured, moderately permeable along the main faults and dislocations represented by the Caledonian-Hercynian bedrock of the island, almost exclusively Palaeozoic, with an almost unlimited thickness. 7. Impermeable Miocenic marly complex. Thickness up to 400 m in Marmilla, Trexenta, Campidano di Cagliari and part of the Logudoro. At the beginning of the 2000s, within the necessary activities for the “Redazione del Piano di Tutela delle Acque (con coordinamento a cura dell’Assessorato Difesa Ambiente della Regione Autonoma della Sardegna) ai sensi dell’Articolo 44 del D.Lgs. 152/99 e s.m.i. e Sistema Informatico di Supporto alle Decisioni (DSS) per la gestione dei bacini idrografici” [“Drafting of the Water Safeguard Plan (coordinated by the Assessorato Difesa Ambiente of the Regione Autonoma Sardegna) according to the Article 44 of D.Lgs. 152/99 (subsequent modifications,

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amendments, and supplements) and its Decision Support System (DSS) for the management of hydrographic basins”], surveys were carried out aimed at better characterizing groundwater by setting up and managing a qualitative and quantitative monitoring network of significant located aquifers (RAS, 2006a). The main goal of the Water Safeguard Plan was to provide characterization of groundwater, starting from known data, achieving a programme of supplemental surveys aimed at completing knowledge on the topic, and carrying out an elaboration and an analysis of the available data. The result was the creation, in 2003, of a monitoring network on 37 main hydrogeological complexes, with 53 sampling stations, subsequently brought up to 101. A further result was to define at a regional level the intrinsic vulnerability and vulnerable areas due to agricultural nitrates (RAS, 2006b). According to the Article 117 of D. Lgs. 152/06 (subsequent modifications, amendments, and supplements) complied with Water Framework Directive (WDF-2000/60/EC) and Groundwater Daughter Directive (2006/118/EC), and the Regional Government of Sardinia adopted the River Basin Management Plan (RBMP) in 2010. The Plan will be reviewed and updated in 2015. RBDM has several functions, but primarily it monitors the current status of water bodies within the River Basin District and determines, in general, what measures should be taken to achieve the environmental objectives established by the WFD. For groundwater, the RBMP of Sardinia draws on the background milestone documents, previously quoted, and on the results of the “Progetto POR Sardegna 2000-2006 – Asse I misura 1.7. Azione C “Rete di monitoraggio qualitativa e quantitativa delle acque sotterranee al fine della definizione dello stato ambientale dei corpi idrici significativi ai sensi del D. Lgs 152/06” [Qualitative and quantitative monitoring groundwaters network design for the definition of the environmental condition of significant water bodies according to the WFD] (RAS, 2011; RAS, 2014). Article 7 of the WFD requires the identification of all the groundwater bodies used, or intended to be used, for the abstraction of more than 10 m3 of drinking water a day, on average. By implication, this volume could be regarded as a significant quantity of groundwater. Geological strata capable of permitting such levels of abstraction (even only at a local level) would therefore qualify as aquifers. According to WFD CIS Guidance (Document No. 2) and D. Lgs 30/2009, groundwater bodies were delineated so as to allow an appropriate description of the quantitative and chemical status of groundwater. In this way, 38 main hydrogeological complexes were determined, 83 aquifers and 114 groundwater bodies (Figure 4.1). The monitoring network for the 114 ground-water bodies comprises 567

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sampling sites, including 560 for chemical status monitoring and 553 for quantitative status monitoring. However this subdivision of groundwater bodies is still suffering from knowledge gaps, i.e. geometry of aquifer, hydrogeological balance and boundary conditions. The climatic trend in these last years has highlighted how significant an accurate picture of the amount of groundwater resources of the region might be. For instance, the years between 1997 and 2000 were the driest of the available 78-year-long series in Sardinia. In particular, the hydrologic year 1999-2000 was one of the most critical - after the hydrologic years 1994-95, 1988-89, and 1989-90 - reaching drought levels never experienced in the past 70 years. In this context, groundwater resources turned out to be an important strategic supply, but also their dramatic fragility was pointed out in relation to the lack of management that can cause severe damages in groundwater supplies, usually irretrievable ones. It is necessary to point out that, as opposed to surface water resources which are controlled by regional institutions that gather data with space and time continuity (though with severe organizational limitations which ought to be overcome), groundwater resources were given little consideration in the past, therefore nowadays there are no comprehensive characterizations on which models can be built and management tools implemented. The annual average rainfall of Sardinia is 780 mm, thus Sardinia is not listed among the arid and sub-arid areas in the classification of the World Meteorological Organization. However, it is not immune from recurring and long droughts, often prolonged during the year and more frequent on the flat lands and on the hills. Winter rains characterize the island, mostly in December, and abundant rainfalls, particularly on the western mountain areas. Then there is a remarkable gap between rainfalls on the coastline and on the flat lands, usually lower than 500 mm per year, and rainfalls on higher mountain tops, amounting to 1000-1300 mm (with the highest values at around 1400 mm on the Gennargentu massif); both rainfall values can vary significantly from one year to the other. Low- and medium-permeability complexes (granite, Palaeozoic schist, metamorphics, volcanic rocks and clastic sediments between the Permian and Quaternary) have greater thickness and cover about 80% of the Sardinian territory, whereas the highly permeable hydrogeological complexes (Mesozoic and Cambrian limestone and dolostone, Quaternary alluvial deposits and some scoriaceous basalts) represent about 17%; those totally impermeable (mostly marls) are considerably on a lesser extent. Such distribution of permeability conditions, with a prevalence of graniticschistose-metamorphic bedrock is reflected especially in the number and

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discharges of springs. There are more than 30,000 springs in the island, of which around 6,000 have a lean period discharge higher than 0.10 l/s. Altogether, the water of all the Sardinian springs might amount to 6,000 l/s in lean period discharge, i.e. approximately to 200 Mm3/year. This resource is used only in a small part (Manfredi, 1934). In comparison with the high number of small springs, those with water flow higher than 2 l/s are just around 250, 24 of which have a discharge higher than 20 l/s, excluding the known thermal springs. Springs with a discharge higher than 50 l/s are only 12, but they lone provide 27% of the spring water volume of the whole island; those with water flow higher than 100 l/s are 7, among which in 3 cases discharge exceeds 200 l/s (Gologone, San Pantaleo, and Pubusinu). The most productive springs occur from permeable dolomiticcalcareous complexes and scoriaceous basalts. According to the Water Safeguard Plan, around 938 Mm3/year have been estimated; however, in our opinion, this value is largely underestimated. Indeed, for instance, recent researches carried out by the two universities of the island showed that the average yearly natural aquifer recharge calculated for only the Nurra district amounts to 37 Mm3/year (Ghiglieri et al. 2006; 2007; 2008; 2009a, b). Another area of Sardinia that is particularly rich in groundwater resources is the aquifer of Mount Albo and the karstic system connected to the Fruncu ’e Oche spring (Murgia, 2013). Other productive aquifers (Montiferru, Iglesiente and Sulcis) are on the western side of the island, because of its favourable hydrogeological conditions.

Concluding (to now) remarks Strategies for a correct management of water resources within dry and semi-dry environments must be preceded and accompanied by multidisciplinary studies, mainly aimed at defining hydrogeological conceptual models, which are necessary to quantify and qualify available resources and supplies for an ongoing development. In most developed countries the belief prevails that water resources must be managed in an integrated way, considering surface and groundwater part of an interrelated system, also in terms of the global balance of quantity and quality that are compatible with soil and environment preservation. In such a balance the role of wastewater discharge should be considered. Therefore, under an integrated management of water resources, the role of groundwater resources has to be taken into adequate consideration. Water resource management plans must pursue not only strict economic aims and goals, which can be

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evaluated in terms of cost-benefits. They should also consider social needs and political will; but there are no doubts that a managing policy naturally implies the rationalization of consumptions. At present, water resource management in Sardinia is suffering from the difficulty, or even impossibility, of coordinating the activities and harmonizing the interests, usually conflicting ones, of the various institutions which over time have acquired jurisdiction over water management. In particular, no problem of groundwater management can be solved without first solving the problem of aquifer identification (indepth geometrical reconstruction, hydrogeological parameters, base quality of groundwater circulating in the aquifer, etc.), and therefore the issue of anticipating (even in terms of protection from pollution) applicable decisions, from which the best solution can be chosen. The two issues related to anticipation and management have to be solved at the same time. In other words, it is necessary to concentrate more on protection and safeguard policies for the aquifers, fixing past wrongs and conforming management procedures to local situations. The practical question that is to be asked is: which problems can arise in case of degradation of supplied water quality? Experience teaches that the costs of preliminary surveys and monitoring programmes are far lower (10-20 times) than those of even minor remediation interventions. Moreover, the term remediation is too abstract, as, even though it is expensive, such intervention will not restore the aquifer to its state prior to contamination in reasonable time and on a human lifetime scale. The attitudes of stakeholders (either public or private) toward these surveys can vary significantly: from “let’s do nothing” as long as the water has a good quality, to investing hundreds of thousands of euros in “heavy” reports and “animated” presentations, but of little use. As usual, the right attitude is found in the middle.

References AA.VV. Piano per l’emergenza idrica – Progetto obiettivo n. 1 – Sistema informativo delle acque sotterranee della Sardegna (SIRIS). Assessorato LL.PP. – RAS, 2001. Ardau, Federica, Roberto Balia, Giulio Barbieri, Giovanni Barrocu, Enrico Gavaudò and Giorgio Ghiglieri. Recent developments in hydrogeological research in the Muravera coastal plain (SE Sardinia, Italy). In Proceedings of the 17th Salt-Water Intrusion Meeting, Delft,

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Netherlands, pp. 456-460, 2002. Ardau, Federica, Giorgio Ghiglieri and Antonio Vernier. Salination of a coastal aquifer of the Turritana Plain: an important factor conditioning land planning use. In Proceedings 13th Salt-Water Intrusion Meeting, Villasimius, Sardinia, pp. 335-342, 1994. Cau, Pierluigi, Giuditta Lecca, Laura Muscas, Giovanni Barrocu and Gabriele Uras. Saltwater intrusion in the plain of Oristano (Sardinia). In Proceedings 17th Salt-Water Intrusion Meeting, Delft, Netherlands, pp.435-444, 2002. Balia, Roberto, Federica Ardau, Giovanni Barrocu, Enrico Gavaudò, and Gaetano Ranieri. Assessment of the Capoterra coastal plain (southern Sardinia, Italy) by means of hydrogeological and geophysical studies. Hydrogeology Journal 17 (2009):981-997. Barbieri, Giulio, Giorgio Ghiglieri and Antonio Vernier. Design of a groundwater monitoring network and identification of environmental quality indicators for combating desertification. GEAM. Geoengineering environment and mining, Ingegneria e Geologia degli Acquiferi [Groundwater Geoengineering] 21, pp. 71-80, 2006. Barrocu, Giovanni (2008). Aquifer salinization and water resources management in coastal areas. In Proceedings 8th Int. Hydrogeology Congress of Greece & 3rd Workshop on Fissured Rocks Hydrology, Edited by G. Migiros, G. Stamatis, G. Stournaras, The Geological Society of Greece, Athens I, pp. 1-16, 2008. Barrocu, Giovanni and Giorgio Ghiglieri. Valutazione del rischio di salinizzazione dei suoli e di intrusione marina nelle aree costiere delle regioni meridionali in relazione agli usi irrigui. Collana: Gestione Risorse Idriche INEA, edited by Rosario Napoli and Silvia Vanino, 2011. Barrocu, Giovanni, Giorgio Ghiglieri and Gabriele Uras. Intrusione salina e vulnerabilità degli acquiferi costieri nella piana di Oristano (Sardegna Centro-Occidentale). In Proceedings Convegno gestione irrigua in ambiente Mediterraneo, Pubblicazione n.° 1383 GNDCICnr U.O. 4. 12. Oristano, 1995. Barrocu, Giovanni, Maria G. Sciabica, Gabriele Uras, Claudio Paniconi and Cristina Gallo. (2000). Modelling of saltwater intrusion in the Capoterra coastal aquifer system (Sardinia). Project “Development of water resource management tools for problems of seawater intrusion and contamination of fresh-water resources in coastal aquifers” – AVI95-CT-73 – EC Avicenna initiative - Final report Edited by Kristine Walraevens, pp. 215-222, 2000. Bertorino, Giovannangela, Rafaele Caboi, Anna M. Caredda, Rosa Cidu,

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Luca Fanfani, Costanzo Panichi, Rita Sitzia and Paola Zuddas. (1982) Alcune considerazioni sulla geochimica delle acque termali del graben del Campidano. Ricerche geotermiche in Sardegna con particolare riferimento al graben del Campidano. CNR-PFE, Sottoprogetto Energia Geotermica RF-10. Project report, pp. 133-143, 1982. Caboi, Rafaele, Rosa Cidu, Antonio Pala and Giuseppe Pecorini. Le acque fredde della Sardegna – Lineamenti idrogeologici e idrogeochimici. Ricerche geotermiche in Sardegna con particolare riferimento al graben del Campidano. CNR-PFE, Sottoprogetto Energia Geotermica RF-10. Project report, pp. 25-55, 1982. Contu, Antonio and Antonio Pala. Le Acque minerali della Sardegna. CoEdiSar, 1998. Fadda, Antonio F. and Antonio Pala A. Le acque della Sardegna. CoEdiSar, 1992. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Giulio Barbieri and Antonio Vernier. Studio sulla gestione sostenibile delle risorse idriche: dall’analisi conoscitiva alle strategie di salvaguardia e tutela [Sustainable water resources management: knowledge and protection criteria]. ENEA, 2006. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Giulio Barbieri, Antonio Vernier, Alberto Carletti, Nicola Demurtas, Mario Deroma, Rosanna Pinna, Daniele Pittalis and AngeloVigo. 2007. Carta idrogeologica e rete di monitoraggio corpi idrici superficiali e sotterranei Nurra (Sardegna Nord-Occidentale). Scala 1:50.000 [Hydrogeological Map of the Nurra area (NW Sardinia): surface water and groundwater monitoring network. Scale 1:50.000: Printed by Composita, 2007. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Giulio Barbieri, Antonio Vernier, Alberto Carletti, Mario Dore, Nicola Demurtas, Rosanna Pinna, Daniele Pittalis and Marcello Vargiu. Vulnerabilità all’inquinamento degli acquiferi della Nurra di Alghero (SS) per la gestione integrata delle risorse idriche (Sardegna NW) [Aquifer vulnerability in the Nurra Region (Alghero) for integrated water resources management: NW Sardinia]. Rivista IGEA – Ingegneria e Geologia degli Acquiferi [Groundwater Geoengineering], 23, pp. 77-86, 2008. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Giacomo Oggiano, Dolores Fidelibus, Giulio Barbieri, Antonio Vernier and Alemayehu Tamiru. 2009a. Hydrogeology of the Nurra Region, Sardinia (Italy): basement - cover influences on groundwater occurrence and hydrogeochemistry. Hydrogeology Journal, 17, 2, pp. 447-466, 2009a. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Giulio Barbieri, Antonio Vernier, Alberto Carletti, Nicola Demurtas, Rosanna Pinna and Daniele Pittalis. Potential risks of nitrate pollution in aquifers from agricultural practices in the Nurra

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region, northwestern Sardinia, Italy. Journal of Hydrology, 379, 3-4, pp. 339-350, 2009b. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Alberto Carletti and Daniele Pittalis. (2012). Analysis of salinization processes in the coastal carbonate aquifer of Porto Torres (NW Sardinia, Italy). Journal of Hydrology, 432–433, pp. 4351, 2012. Ghiglieri, Giorgio, Alberto Carletti and Daniele Pittalis. Runoff coefficient and average yearly natural aquifer recharge assessment by physiographybased indirect methods for the island of Sardinia (Italy) and its NW area (Nurra). Journal of Hydrology, 519B, pp. 1779-1791, 2014. Loddo, Mariano, Francesco Mongelli, Giuseppe Pecorini and Antonio Tramacere. Prime misure di flusso di calore in Sardegna. Ricerche geotermiche in Sardegna con particolare riferimento al graben del Campidano, CNR-PFE, Sottoprogetto Energia Geotermica RF-10. Project report, pp. 181-209, 1982. Manfredi, Massimo. Le sorgenti italiane. Sardegna. Ministero dei lavori Pubblici, Consiglio superiore del Servizio Idrografico. Istituto Poligrafico dello Stato, 1934. Murgia, Francesco. Monte Albo. Ricerche speleologiche e studi idrogeologici. Mem Istituto Italiano di Speleologia, Serie II vol. XXVII, 2013. Pietracaprina, Antonio. – Ricerche idriche sotterranee in Sardegna. Progetto Speciale n. 25, CASMEZ ROMA, vol. 1-60, 1979-80. R.A.S. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna. Piano di Tutela Acque (Regional plan for water protection) approvato con Deliberazione della Giunta Regionale n. 14/16 del 4 aprile 2006. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna, Cagliari (in Italian), 2006a. Accessed May 5th, 2015. http://www.regione.sardegna.it/j/v/25?s=26251&v=2&c=1260&t=1 —. Programma d’Azione per la Zona vulnerabile da nitrati (ZVN) di origine agricola di Arborea (Actions programme for the Arborea nitrate vulnerable zone from agricultural sources)- Delibera della Giunta Regionale n. 4/13 del 31 gennaio 2006, Cagliari (in Italian), 2006b. Accessed May 5th, 2015. http://www.regione.sardegna.it/j/v/25?s=27700&v=2&c=6&t=1 —. Caratterizzazione, obiettivi e monitoraggio dei corpi idrici sotterranei. Piano di gestione del distretto idrografico della Sardegna, (in italian), 2010. Accessed May 5, 2015. https://www.regione.sardegna.it/documenti/1_328_20130906131252.zip —. Caratterizzazione, obiettivi e monitoraggio dei corpi idrici sotterranei. Riesame e aggiornamento del Piano di gestione del distretto idrografico della Sardegna, Progetto di Aggiornamento del Piano di Gestione (in italian), 2014. Accessed May 5th, 2015.

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http://www.regione.sardegna.it/documenti/1_470_20141222141305.pdf UNEP. United Nations Convention to Combact Desertification in those countries experiencing serious drought and/or desertification, particularly in Africa. Geneva: UNEP, 1994.

CHAPTER FIVE CHARACTERISTICS AND PROPERTIES OF SARDINIAN SOILS ANDREA VACCA

Major soils of Sardinia In this text, soil is a natural body comprised of solids (minerals and organic matter), liquids, and gases that occurs on the land surface, occupies space, and is characterized by one or both of the following: horizons, or layers, that are distinguishable from the initial material as a result of additions, losses, transfers, and transformations of energy and matter or the ability to support rooted plants in a natural environment (Soil Survey Staff 1999); the soil fulfils basic functions for human society, not only concretely, by providing goods and materials, but also abstractly, by stimulating intellectual activity and spiritual wellbeing (Costantini and Dazzi 2013). Soils are formed in an interaction traditionally described by five factors: parent material, relief, time, climate, and organisms (Jenny 1941). The complex interactions among these factors take place following repetitive patterns that may be observed on different scales, leading to the formation of repetitive combinations. This is the basis used for the definition, identification and mapping of soils in Sardinia and for the production of one of the very few important available regional soil inventories: the Soil Map of Sardinia (Aru et al. 1990), at scale 1:250,000, and its associated report (Aru et al. 1991). This chapter summarizes the main characteristics and properties and the distribution of major Sardinian soils according to the aforementioned Soil Map of Sardinia. The soil names used in this chapter are the ones in the World Reference Base (WRB) (IUSS Working Group WRB 2014). The characteristics and properties of Sardinian soils vary strongly, mostly depending on the type of parent material, topography, vegetation cover and land use. The climate factor mostly affects leaching conditions

Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils

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and organic matter accumulation. Table 5.1 reports the list of the main Reference Soil Groups (RSGs) (IUSS Working Group WRB 2014) and their parent materials occurring in Sardinia, as derived from the Soil Map of Sardinia at scale 1:250,000 (Aru et al. 1990). Thirteen of the thirty-two RSGs of the WRB are present on the island. Their geographical distribution is shown in Figure 5.1. Reference Soil Group

Parent material

Technosols*

Chernozems

Mine deposits, industrial deposits, waste deposits. All but alluvial, slope, aeolian, and colluvial deposits. Holocene colluvial deposits (mostly derived from Miocene marls, Cenozoic acid effusive rocks, and Pliocene and Upper Pleistocene basalts) and other Holocene clayey deposits. Holocene littoral sediments (marshy areas, lagoons, etc.). Holocene calcareous crusts.

Phaeozems

All parent materials.

Umbrisols

All but calcareous parent materials.

Calcisols

Cambisols

Miocene marls, sandstones, and marly limestone, and Pleistocene alluvial deposits. Pleistocene alluvial and slope deposits and Palaeozoic and Mesozoic limestone, dolomites, and dolomitic limestone. All parent materials.

Arenosols

Holocene aeolian sand.

Fluvisols

Holocene fluvial and alluvial sediments.

Regosols

All parent materials.

Leptosols Vertisols

Solonchaks

Luvisols

Table 5.1. Main RSGs (IUSS Working Group WRB 2014) in Sardinia and their parent materials as derived from the Soil Map of Sardinia (Aru et al. 1990), at scale 1:250,000. * Due to their limited areal extension, Technosols are not reported as a single RSG on the Soil Map of Sardinia but they are included in the soil map unit urban landscapes

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Almost 28% of the island’s territory is covered by very shallow soils (” 25 cm deep) with A-R profile (Leptosols, sometimes associated with Leptic Cambisols and Leptic Regosols), often associated with rocky outcrops and characterized by a high erosion risk. These soils especially occur on lithologies characterized by a strong resistance to weathering under the present day climate (e.g. metamorphic, intrusive, effusive, dolomitic and calcareous rocks), mainly in sloping areas with irregular topography and scanty vegetation cover, where extensive grazing, chiefly by sheep and goats, is practised. Besides soil depth, the other soil characteristics are chiefly influenced by rock texture (e.g. soils derived from granitoids have coarser texture than those derived from metamorphic and effusive rocks) and rock composition (e.g. soils derived from rhyolites have lower pH and base saturation than those derived from andesites). Generally speaking, soil characteristics are indicative of limited paedogenesis. The apparent inconsistency with the age of their substrata (from Cambrian to Neogene) clearly highlights a strong rejuvenation of the weathering front by surface erosion. Coherently, the C-horizon is almost always missing, suggesting that paedogenesis may have occurred on a thin detritic layer related to slope morphodynamics (colluvium) rather than by the direct in situ weathering of the bedrock. In these soils, the incorporation of organic matter in the A-horizons is the most important paedogenic process, which strongly determines their morphological (structure and consistence) and chemical properties (cation exchange capacity, exchangeable cations and base saturation). These soils mainly belong to the VIII class of the Land Capability Classification because their limitations preclude any productive use and restrict their use to recreational purposes, wildlife habitat, watershed, or aesthetic purpose. Only 18% of the island’s soils have limited ecological constraints and is suitable for irrigated agriculture: 3% are highly suitable (Eutric and Calcaric Fluvisols; Eutric, Calcaric and Vertic Cambisols; Haplic and Calcic Vertisols; Haplic and Calcic Luvisols); 6% are moderately suitable (Vertic, Eutric and Calcaric Cambisols; Calcic and Haplic Luvisols; Calcaric Arenosols); and 9% are marginally suitable (Chromic Luvisols; Eutric and Dystric Cambisols; Calcaric Regosols). These soils were mainly formed in the inland and coastal plains, largely on Pleistocene and Holocene alluvial deposits. Some of these soils, mostly to be found in the regions Marmilla and Trexenta, were formed on marls, sandstones, and marly limestone of the Miocene and their Holocene colluvial deposits. Of minor extent are those formed on Cenozoic

Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils

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andesites and their Holocene colluvial deposits, mostly located in the Sulcis region. The soils derived from Pleistocene alluvial deposits are deep and generally characterized by a sequence of Bt horizons overlaid by an Ahorizon. The extent of clay illuviation and Fe or Ca dynamics of these soils are indicative of a high degree of weathering and support the relict nature of their features. Therefore, the argillic horizons of these soils (thus representing palaeosols) may be related to a warmer and more humid palaeoclimate than today, characterized by a marked seasonal contrast. These conditions are the most prone to water percolation and clay illuviation, followed by capillary water evaporation or water uptake by plant roots (evapotranspiration) that lead to soil desiccation, with consequent deposition of suspended clays onto void surfaces. These palaeoclimatic conditions are also consistent with the extent of Fe or Ca dynamics and clay minerals and suggest that paedogenesis for these soils occurred mostly during interglacial periods. These soils, having severe to very severe limitations that reduce or restrict the choice of plants and/or require special conservation practices or very careful management, mainly belong to the IV and III class of the Land Capability Classification. The soils derived from Holocene alluvial deposits are deep and generally characterized by an A-Bw-C or A-C profile. They may sometimes consist of a sequence of different sedimentary cycles (marked by differences in texture and coarse fragments content). On the whole, morphological, physical and chemical properties of these soils are indicative of weak and recent paedogenesis. The soils derived from marls, sandstones, and marly limestones of the Miocene occur in undulating to nearly level areas and are characterized by an A-Bw-C, A-Bk-C or A-C profile. These soils are from moderately deep to deep, from well to moderately permeable, mildly alkaline, saturated, and their texture ranges from sandy loam to sandy clay loam. Soils formed on the Holocene colluvial deposits derived from Cenozoic marls and andesites are restricted to low-lying areas and may show a typical A-Bss-C profile. These are clay-rich soils that shrink and swell with changes in moisture content. During dry periods, the soil volume shrinks, and deep, wide cracks form. The soil volume then expands as it wettens. They are very fertile soils, but their use is limited by low permeability or stagnant surface water in the rainy season. Primarily Cambisols, Leptosols, and Regosols are present on the remaining 54% of the island. These soils are mainly characterized by ABw-C, A-Bw-R, A-R or A-C profiles, belong to different classes of the Land Capability Classification and their characteristics are strongly depending on the interaction of the paedogenetical factor’s parent material, topography, climate, vegetation cover, and land use. These soils are

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generally marginal for intensive agriculture and may show strong limitations, but they may also be suitable for special crops, grazing, or forestry. For instance, in many areas (e.g. Ogliastra, Marmilla, Trexenta, Sulcis, Gallura) these soils may be suitable to grow grapes for the production of high quality wines. In some areas, evidence of the forest cover is present, mainly with cork oak (Quercus suber) and holm oak (Quercus ilex). In general, these soils are very fragile and sensitive to all uses that do not take their qualities and limitations into account. A typical example is the soil with loamy sand or coarser texture (sand content • 70% and clay content ” 15%) located on steep or very steep slopes (> 30%) in which the only bonding agents preventing soil erosion processes are the vegetation cover and the derived organic matter. Soils with these characteristics are typically those formed out of Palaeozoic granitoids, widely found in Sardinia. In such cases, soil organic matter may be considered as an elixir of life and any land use change leading to the elimination of the vegetation cover will trigger soil erosion processes that may cause the complete loss of the soil (desertification).

Soil degradation in Sardinia Soil degradation means loss of soil or soil quality for specific functions (Blum 2008). Soils have at least six different functions for the social and economic development of mankind, which can be divided into three ecological functions (i. biomass production; ii. filtering, buffering, storage and transformation capacity; iii. biological habitat and gene reserve) and three other functions directly linked to human activities (i. physical medium; ii. source of raw materials; iii. geogenic and cultural heritage) (COM (2002) 179 final; Blum 2006). Soil degradation has been increasing worldwide and can either be a result of unsuitable land use and inappropriate land management practices or due to natural hazards, the latter being rather rare when compared to the risks caused by human interactions. Therefore, human activities can be considered the main causes of soil degradation risks (Aru 1985; Blum 2002). The soil degradation problem is of great concern in Sardinia and, consequently, it has been widely investigated in the frame of national and international research projects over the last three decades. This chapter summarizes the main results of some of these projects, focusing on the main factors and processes of soil degradation in Sardinia.

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Main factors of soil degradation in Sardinia The findings of the studies carried out in Sardinia have shown that, although some degradation processes may occur naturally, anthropogenic factors are the leading cause of soil degradation on the island (Vacca et al. 1998; Vacca and Vacca 2001; Vacca et al. 2002; Aru et al. 2006). Various types of human activities may lead to soil degradation. Three main groups are identified: agriculture, pastoral and forestry activities, industrial activities and urbanization. Concerning the agriculture, pastoral and forestry activities, the following actions are considered to be the most important: •

•

•

Ploughing in forest areas: in forest areas ploughing to increase forage production, mostly carried out regardless of the specific morphological and paedological conditions, results in the degradation of physical, chemical, and biological soil properties. Moreover, ploughing negatively affects vegetation (root cutting, seedlings destruction, etc.). Indiscriminate and excessive exploitation of coastal aquifers: the over-pumping of coastal groundwater for irrigation purposes increases the risk, or may induce the process, of saltwater infiltration. Overgrazing: pastoral activities, in particular sheep breeding for milk production, have always played a major economic role on the island.

Over time, the sheep population, estimated to be around 1,100,000 heads at the beginning of the 17th century, has reached over 4,000,000 heads. The effect of overgrazing is usually soil compaction and/or a decrease in plant cover and consequent loss of soil protection (Figure 5.2). •

Pseudo-amelioration techniques for pasture improvement: in order to meet the higher feeding requirements of animals, from the 1970s the Regional Government of Sardinia promoted, by providing subsidies, policies intended to increase forage production (the so called Programma Miglioramento Pascoli). The amendment actions consisted of the substitution of wide areas of low Mediterranean maquis with artificial pastures by bush cutting, ploughing (mainly along the maximum gradient on steep slopes) and seeding. These actions were mostly carried out regardless of the specific morphological and paedological conditions, resulting in a severe impact on the soil, sometimes with the complete erosion of the

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plough layer. After ploughing, generally no hydraulic interventions were carried out, although they would be necessary in order to regulate drainage, especially during convective rainfall events.

Figure 5.2. Area affected by overgrazing in the Gennargentu mountain

•

•

Burning: due to the above-mentioned economic relevance of the pastoral activities, the use of fire to enlarge grazing areas has been practised and tolerated for centuries. During the 1980s and the 1990s, in each decade an average of 1.8% and 1.4% per year, respectively, of the island surface was set on fire (most probably not only to increase grazing areas but for other reasons as well). During the first 10 years of this century each year 0.5% on average of the island surface was set on fire (again, most probably not exclusively to increase grazing areas). Burning results in the destruction of vegetation cover and of the organic soil horizons. Moreover, the heat of fire may vaporize hydrophobic compounds in the litter, humus, and the soil’s organic matter. These compounds may move into the soil atmosphere and condense on cooler soil particles at or below the soil surface, forming a hydrophobic coating that can reduce or inhibit water infiltration. Exotic tree species plantation: thanks to the generous public subsidies afforestation with eucalypts and pines, two species

Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils

•

55

mistakenly thought to be fast growing in any condition, rapidly increased in Sardinia in the 1960s and 1970s. Unfortunately, the lack of feasibility and suitability studies has meant that in many areas the preference for exotic species over the natural vegetation, or vegetation more suitable to the environment, has triggered soil degradation processes. The planting of exotic tree species often resulted in a loss of soil protection and in the degradation of some physical, chemical and biological soil properties. Deforestation: the transformation of forests into agricultural and pastoral ecosystems has been practised in Sardinia for millennia. Moreover, charcoal was intensively produced at least during the 19th and the first part of the 20th century (a great number of charcoal burning terraces are still rather evident). Deforestation results in the removal of vegetation cover and in the loss of its effects on soil protection and in the degradation of some physical, chemical and biological soil properties.

As for the industrial activities, the following are considered the most important actions: •

•

•

Quarries in agricultural areas: sand and gravel extraction is a major problem in regions where fertile soils in recent alluvium are limited. This is true throughout the island, where fertile soils account only for a small percentage of the total land. Moreover, the extraction of fluvial sediments often modifies the river profile, causing serious problems in the whole river basin, even when it is small. Indiscriminate and excessive exploitation of coastal aquifers: the over-pumping of coastal groundwater for industrial needs increases the risk, or may induce the process, of saltwater infiltration. Waste disposal of polluted materials: mining is the oldest industrial activity in Sardinia. The island’s ore deposits have been historically exploited for their lead, zinc, iron, silver, barium, fluorite, and antimony. Coalmines have been exploited as well. Mining activity continued until the 1980s. Since then it has suffered a serious crisis, culminating in the closure of most mines. Almost all the mine sites have been abandoned, as well as their spoil heaps, flotation tailing dumps and tailing impoundment (it is estimated that a total amount of 14,300,000 m3 of material is deposited in abandoned mine dumps throughout the island). Moreover, most of the industry in Sardinia works in the chemical sector and produces polluted wastes that are stocked on the island.

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•

Conversion of land to non-agricultural uses: industrial activities are mostly located along the coasts and in the coastal plains, in areas that were once used for rain-fed or irrigated agriculture. As for urbanization, the following are considered the most important actions: •

•

Conversion of the land to non-agricultural uses: urbanization, both for housing and tourism, takes place mostly along the coasts and in the coastal plains, in areas once used for rain-fed or irrigated agriculture. In many cases, urbanization took place without any planning. Indiscriminate and excessive exploitation of coastal aquifers: the over-pumping of coastal groundwater for urban needs increases the risk, or may induce the process, of saltwater infiltration.

Main processes of soil degradation in Sardinia The physical, chemical and biological actions and interactions summarized hereafter are the main soil degradation processes induced by the above-mentioned factors. For the sake of clarity, the main processes will be presented and discussed separately, but in real terms these processes are intimately linked. The main physical processes of soil degradation are: •

•

Accelerated erosion: accelerated erosion (Figure 5.3) affects large portions of the hilly and mountain areas subjected to irrational agricultural, pastoral and forestry activities, such as deep ploughing, deforestation, exotic tree species plantation, amelioration techniques for pasture improvement, overgrazing and the use of fire to increase pasture areas. Consumption and sealing of agricultural soils: urbanization and industrial activities are the major cause of consumption and sealing of agricultural soils in Sardinia. There is clear evidence that urban development and infrastructure construction, as well as quarry activity for sand and gravel extraction, mostly affect prime agricultural land in the Sardinian plains. There has recently been a significant increase in soil sealing by photovoltaic and solar panel plants. Sealed areas are lost to uses such as agriculture or forestry while the ecological soil functions are severely impaired or even prevented. In addition, the surrounding soils may be influenced by

Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils

•

•

57

the change in water flow patterns or by the fragmentation of habitats. Compaction: the major cause for soil compaction is overgrazing. Soil compaction results in densification and distortion of the soil where biological activity, porosity and permeability are reduced, strength is increased and soil structure partly destroyed. Imbalance in water/air ratio: soil compaction can reduce water infiltration capacity and increase the erosion risk by accelerating run-off.

Figure 5.3. An example of gully erosion

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The main chemical processes of soil degradation are: •

•

•

•

Leaching: the loss of water-soluble plant nutrients from the soil is especially relevant in areas close to waste disposal of polluted materials, where the soil pH may drop to low values. Decline in fertility: the functional characteristics of chemical fertility are pH, base saturation, total CaCO3, cation exchange capacity, soil nutrient status and exchangeable sodium percentage. Irrational agriculture, pastoral and forestry activities, as well as industrial activities and urbanization may all be responsible for this degradation process. Salinization: salinization can be associated with the over exploitation of coastal groundwater caused by the demands of growing urbanization, industry and agriculture. The accumulation of excessive soluble salts in the root-zone in concentrations that are toxic to the plant growth commonly occurs in several coastal areas as a consequence of the use of low quality water for irrigation. Contamination: the occurrence of high concentrations of pollutants in the soil, causing a deterioration or loss of one or more soil functions, is mainly related to mining activity and to the chemical industry. All the mining districts of the island are characterized by heavy metal contamination of the soils in the neighbouring areas of the abandoned mine dumps. In addition, the soils in the neighbouring areas of chemical industries are often characterized by high concentrations of pollutants.

The main biological processes of soil degradation are: •

•

Decline in organic matter: the reduction of organic matter content in the forest floor and in the soil has been detected in many areas used for agricultural, pastoral, and forestry activities. Ploughing, repeated use of fire for the clearing of pasture areas and exotic trees plantation are among the main actions that cause this process. Decrease in the population activity and species diversity of the soil fauna and flora: the reduction of soil biodiversity may be caused by several actions connected to each of the considered three main groups of anthropogenic degradation factors. Threats to the soil such as erosion, contamination, salinization and sealing all affect the soil biodiversity by compromising or destroying the habitat of the soil biota. Management practices that reduce the deposition or the persistence of organic matter in soils, or bypass biologically

Characteristics and Properties of Sardinian Soils

•

59

mediated nutrient cycling also tend to reduce the size and complexity of soil communities. Alteration of biological processes from favourable to unfavourable trends: the three ecological functions of soils may be strongly affected by this degradation process that is associated with all the previous ones.

Concluding remarks The characteristics of the Sardinian geography and its pronounced Mediterranean climate result in the island’s soil being notably fragile and extremely sensitive to degradation under any change in the land use that does not take the soil’s qualities and limitations into proper account. The findings of many studies on soil degradation carried out in Sardinia have indicated that the main factors triggering physical, chemical and biological soil degradation processes are essentially human-related and associated with a lack of awareness of the soil, and of its role as an environmental component, while planning human activities. This is the result of a lack of knowledge of the soil, of its ecological value, its several functions, also as a consequence of the subject not being sufficiently addressed in educational programmes at all levels. Therefore, land planning at different levels is considered the key issue in the prevention and mitigation of soil degradation in Sardinia. For this purpose, the planning process must be based on an accurate inventory of the natural resources, including soil, soil evaluation and definitions of alternative and suitable uses.

References Aru, Angelo. “The soils of Sardinia and their state of conservation.” Geoökodynamik 6, pp. 71-83, 1985. Aru, Angelo, Paolo Baldaccini, Giuseppe Delogu, Maria Antonietta Dessena, Salvatore Madrau, Rita Teresa Melis, Andrea Vacca, and Sergio Vacca. Carta dei suoli della Sardegna, in scala 1:250.000. Dipartimento Scienze della Terra Università di Cagliari, Assessorato Regionale alla Programmazione Bilancio ed Assetto del Territorio. Florence: SELCA, 1990. Aru, Angelo, Paolo Baldaccini, Andrea Vacca, Giuseppe Delogu, Maria Antonietta Dessena, Salvatore Madrau, Rita Teresa Melis, and Sergio Vacca. Nota illustrativa alla Carta dei suoli della Sardegna. Cagliari: Dipartimento Scienze della Terra Università di Cagliari, Assessorato

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Regionale alla Programmazione Bilancio ed Assetto del Territorio, 1991. Aru, Angelo, Daniele Tomasi, and Andrea Vacca. “Aspects of environmental degradation in Sardinia.” In Preparing for the next generation of watershed management programmes and projects: Water resources for the future, Proceedings of the International Conference (Porto Cervo 22th-24th October 2003), Watershed Management & Sustainable Mountain Development Working Paper 9, edited by Larry Tennyson and Pier Carlo Zingari, pp. 163-178. Rome: FAO, 2006. Blum, Wilfried E.H. “Environmental Protection through Sustainable Soil Management, a Holistic Approach.” In Sustainable Land Management - Environmental Protection - A Soil Physical Approach, edited by Marcello Pagliai and Robert Jones, pp. 1-8. Reiskirchen: Catena Verlag GmbH, 2002. —. “Soil Resources - The Basis of Human Society and the Environment.” Die Bodenkultur 57, pp. 197-202, 2006. —. “Characterisation of soil degradation risk: an overview.” In Threats to Soil Quality in Europe, edited by Gergely Tóth, Luca Montanarella and Ezio Rusco, 5-10. JRC Scientific and Technical Reports - EUR 23438 EN, JRC 46574. Ispra: JRC, 2008. Costantini, Edoardo A.C and Carmelo Dazzi (Eds.). The Soils of Italy. Dordrecht: Springer, 2013. IUSS Working Group WRB. World Reference Base for Soil Resources 2014. International soil classification system for naming soils and creating legends for soil maps. World Soil Resources Reports No. 106. Rome: FAO, 2014. Jenny, Hans. Factors of Soil Formation. A System of Quantitative Pedology. New York: McGraw Hill Book Company, 1941. COM(2002)179 final. Towards a Thematic Strategy for Soil Protection. Communication of the Commission to the Council, the European Parliament, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions (16/04/2002). Soil Survey Staff. Soil Taxonomy: A Basic System of Soil Classification for Making and Interpreting Soil Surveys. 2nd edition. Natural Resources Conservation Service. U.S. Department of Agriculture Handbook 436, 1999. Vacca, Andrea and Sergio Vacca. “Soil degradation in Sardinia - Historical causes and current processes due to anthropogenic pressure.” Petermanns Geographische Mitteilungen 14, pp. 68-78, 2001.

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Vacca, Andrea, Stefano Loddo, Rita Puddu, Gianluca Serra, Daniele Tomasi, and Angelo Aru. “Aspetti della degradazione del suolo in Sardegna (Italia).” Mediterrâneo 12-13, pp. 107-125, 1998. Vacca, Andrea, Stefano Loddo, Gianluca Serra, and Angelo Aru. “Soil degradation in Sardinia (Italy): main factors and processes.” In 7th International Meeting on Soils with Mediterranean Type of Climate (Valenzano 23-28 September 2001) (Selected Papers), Options Méditerranéennes, Series: Mediterranean Seminars, Volume A50, edited by Pandi Zdruli, Pasquale Steduto and Selim Kapur, pp. 413423. Bari: CIHEAM, 2002.

PART II PEOPLE, TERRITORY AND POLICIES

CHAPTER SIX DEMOGRAPHICS OF SARDINIA: MAIN FEATURES AND TRENDS ANDREA CORSALE

Introduction Sardinia is essentially characterized, in the present time, by a low population density, by a progressive concentration of settlements and inhabitants along the coastline and around the main urban poles (Figure 6.5), and by a gradually declining and aging population. Analysing the demographics of Sardinia in depth means exploring the history and geography of an unusual island, where, for most of its medieval and modern history, people were largely concentrated in the inland areas, with few settlements along the coast, while things have changed since the late 19th century, and, particularly, in the second half of the 20th century, which was characterized by fertility decrease, urbanization, litoralization and parallel depopulation of mountain and hill settlements. At the same time, strong emigration outflows characterized most of the 20th century, while in the past two decades an unprecedented phenomenon of immigration has been compensating departures. Thus, shifts from mainly internal to mainly coastal population distribution, from intense natural increase to aging and decline, and from widespread emigration to immigration from abroad have deeply changed the demographics of the island in a very short period of time, mainly during the second half of the 20th century. These phenomena will be more extensively discussed in the following paragraphs.

Brief population history A persistent shortage of population characterizes the history of the island. Unlike Sicily, with its large population, the demographic history of Sardinia reveals that, from prehistory to 1700 A.D., the population most probably never exceeded 300,000 inhabitants, corresponding to a

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maximum population density of about 12 inhabitants per square km. Despite being conquered by numerous peoples, such as the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, Byzantines, Pisans and Genoese, Catalans and Spaniards, Piedmontese, etc. throughout its long and complex history, the island never received any pervasive colonization attempts. Notable exceptions, such as Pisans in Cagliari (13th cent.), Catalans in Alghero, (14th cent.), Ligurians in the islands of San Pietro and Sant’Antioco (18th cent.), northeastern Italians in the reclaimed Nurra and Arborea agricultural districts (20th cent.), had significant impacts at the local level, but did not affect the bulk of the Sardinian population, which shows a remarkable genetic distinctiveness dating back to ancient times (Anatra et al., 1997; Mori, 1966). Demographic dichotomy characterized the Roman age, when deeply Latinized populations inhabited the coastal regions, where urban civilization and trade flourished, and the agricultural plains, important cereal producers, while the inner mountain areas were inhabited by autochthonous populations who, in spite of gradually absorbing the Latin language, retained distinctive socio-economic and cultural traits and were seen as “Barbarians” by the Roman authorities. The end of the Roman Empire brought centuries of instability. Piracy, mainly based in North Africa, became a constant threat for the coastal regions of the island, which also experienced a severe recrudescence of malaria. As a consequence, in spite of being an island, Sardinia developed, during the Middle Ages and beyond, a distinctive agropastoral culture strongly linked with its hilly and mountainous cores, while the relation with the sea only survived through fortified coastal towns (Cagliari, Bosa, Castelsardo, Alghero) or other fortified towns shielded from the coast by buffer zones (Sassari, Iglesias, Oristano). The vast majority of the population used to live in mainly self-sufficient agricultural and agropastoral settlements scattered across plains, hills and mountains, at a safe distance from the piracy and malaria-infested coast. The demographic centre was thus strongly anchored to the inland (Anatra et al., 1997; Mori, 1966; Pardi, 1925). Population growth was halted and reversed on several occasions, most notably because of the demographic crises of the 14th and 18th centuries, caused by widespread plague outbreaks and famines. Around 1348 A.D., in particular, the Black Plague is estimated to have reduced the population by half (Pardi, 1925). The years between the plague of 1348 and the first Spanish census of 1485 (157,600 inhabitants) proved the worst ever for the Sardinian population on account of wars, subsequent epidemics of plague, famine, food shortages and the deportation of rebels against the Spanish crown. Between the census of 1485 and that of 1678, by contrast,

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the population doubled and reached 299,400 inhabitants, but declined once more to 229,500 by 1688. The whole 17th century in the island was marked by famines and meteorological and epidemic misfortunes which particularly affected the north of the island, leading to the decline of the urban pole of Sassari and the definitive supremacy of Cagliari (Angioni et al., 1997; Mori, 1966). The first census carried out by the Savoy, in 1728, showed that the population, which numbered about 311,900 inhabitants, had overcome the effects of these great calamities. From this period onwards, a long positive trend of demographic growth characterized the Sardinian population, albeit with varying combinations of natural and migration balances, culminating in the census of 1991, which recorded 1,648,200 inhabitants. After 1991, as will be shown in the following paragraphs, a period of demographic stagnation started, which is expected to lead to severe population decline during the 21st century (Gatti & Puggioni, 1998). With the end of piracy, following the tightening of French and British control over the Mediterranean Sea at the beginning of the 19th century, and the gradual retreat of malaria between the 19th and 20th century, the reasons for the peculiar concentration of population in inland areas disappeared, causing deep and rapid changes in its distribution. At the end of the 19th century the city of Cagliari emerged as one of the most dynamic towns in southern Italy, attracting people from all over the island. Other towns experienced rapid growth too, particularly as a result of internal migrations, such as Sassari, Oristano, Nuoro and Iglesias. Administrative activities, construction, commerce, harbours, new agricultural districts, modern roads and railways formed the axes of new population patterns between the late 19th and early 20th centuries (Coletti, 1908). The northeast coast emerged from its marginal position with the construction of the harbour of Olbia (then known as Terranova) in 1870. Medieval fortifications, walls and gates were demolished in Cagliari, Sassari, Oristano, Alghero, Iglesias and Bosa at the end of the 19th century, stimulating urban expansion and renovation. Irrigation began spreading in the plains, supported by important infrastructures such as the Omodeo dam (1924). Land reclamation in wetland areas accelerated malaria retreat and created new areas for commercial agriculture, for example in Arborea (founded in 1928 under the name of Mussolinia) and Fertilia (founded in 1936). Intense, albeit short-lived, mining activities emerged too, attracting people to new towns such as Carbonia, founded in 1937, and fostering the growth of Iglesias from 5,000 inhabitants in 1861 to 20,700 in 1936 (they were 2,100 in 1688). Most importantly, the city of Cagliari grew from 37,200 inhabitants in 1861 to 98,000 in 1936 (17,400 in 1688), and Sassari

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from 25,600 to 54,900 (8,100 in 1688). The growth of these two main urban areas was mainly due to administration, construction and commercial activities, while the role of industrialization was less crucial, although not negligible. The attractiveness of other coastal areas remained weak in the first half of the 20th century, due to their limited agricultural potential, the general marginality of the fishing sector and the slow development of seaside tourism, which was confined to a few beaches located in the immediate proximity of Cagliari, Sassari and Alghero (Golini, 1965). Overall, Sardinia as a whole entered demographic transition in the second half of the 19th century, with accelerated growth bringing the population from 609,000 people in 1861 to 1,034,200 in 1936, a total increase of 69.7%, similar to the Italian national average. The complex trends that have characterized the second half of the 20th century, starting from the data of the post-war census of 1951, as well as the most recent years, will be analysed in the following paragraphs.

Recent trends As already seen, the population of Sardinia reached the highest point in its history in 1991 (1,648,200), which was followed by a period of stability that broke the positive trend started in the 18th century. The census of 2001 recorded 1,632,900 people (-1.0%), with a partial recovery in 2011 with 1,642,500 (+0.5%). The most recent data (31st December 2013), provided by municipal administrations, show an increase to 1,663,800 inhabitants, although these local sources often overestimate real population. The population of Sardinia grew significantly between 1951 (1,276,000, corresponding to 53 people per km2) and 1991 (1,648,200, corresponding to 68 people/km2) thanks to relatively high birth rates and a general delay in demographic transition, compared to the Italian national average. Intense natural increase largely compensated for the parallel strong emigration phenomenon that particularly characterized the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. The main destinations were the urban areas and industrial districts of Northern Italy and Western Europe, particularly Germany and Belgium (Leone et al., 1979). Subsequently, starting from the 1980s, the role played by natural and migratory movements reversed. Natural increase dropped to significantly negative levels, emigration diminished and a new phenomenon of immigration from abroad largely caused the fabled total population growth observed between 1991 and 2011 (Bottazzi, 2009; Gentileschi, 1995; Mura, 1994; Salinas, 2000). Analysing data at a municipal level, the different stages of demographic transition and internal migrations, following socio-economic

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transformations, clearly emerge and support further analysis of the most recent trends. Between 1961 and 1971, in fact, natural increase was still positive in 361 municipalities out of 377. Particularly high levels were recorded in Cagliari and Sassari, including their industrializing suburbs, and the northeast of the island; industry, infrastructures, administration, construction, services and, in the northeast, early stages of tourism development attracted to these areas young families from the rest of the island. In this period, the 16 municipalities which were already showing a tendency to aging and decline were small and exclusively located in hilly areas between the provinces of Oristano and Sassari. In the following decade, between 1971 and 1981, natural increase was still generalized and largely positive, particularly in the fast-growing hinterland of Cagliari; however, clear signs of slowdown were visible, as 52 municipalities, mainly located in hilly areas in the central-western part of the island had already recorded a negative natural growth (Esposito, 2011; Centro Regionale di Programmazione, 1978). During the 1980s the situation was already very different, as more than 130 municipalities, over 1/3 of the total, mostly located in the inland areas of the provinces of Nuoro, Oristano and Sassari, had negative natural rates, while the only centres with significant dynamism were the urban poles of Cagliari and the nrtheastern coast. The crisis of industrialization and the attractiveness of the tertiary sectors, including tourism in the northeast, caused the on-going internal migration of young people from the inland, thus determining the rapid aging of mainly agricultural settlements. Between 1991 and 2001 the reduction in birth rates kept intensifying, as natural increase remained positive in only 1/3 of Sardinian municipalities. The decline phenomenon was particularly intense in the inland areas of the provinces of Oristano and Sassari; the urban areas of Cagliari, Sassari and Nuoro and the northeastern coast still registered a stable growth. Between 2001 and 2011, natural rates remained positive in only a small fraction of municipalities (20%), including the urban crowns of Cagliari and Sassari, and some areas along the eastern and northeastern coast (Gallura, Baronia and Ogliastra). These areas are characterized by tourism activities, construction and services, and growing residential relocation coming from the urban cores of Cagliari (for example Capoterra, Assemini and Selargius) and Sassari (Tissi, Usini and Olmedo), where high costs and low comfort push young families towards the suburbs and lead to rapid aging of the inner urban population (Abis, 2007; Bottazzi & Puggioni, 2002). In parallel, internal migrations were very intense during the 1960s, with only 26 municipalities showing a positive rate; among them the

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rapidly growing industrial areas of Portoscuso, Porto Torres and Sarroch, the tourist areas of Olbia and Arzachena, in the northeast, and all the main towns, most notably Cagliari and Sassari. The same tendency was recorded in the following decade, while in the 1980s the saturation of the municipality of Cagliari produced the first significant outflows towards its suburbs and the declining industrial areas started losing their attractiveness. The tourist districts of the northeast maintained a positive migration balance. During the 1990s and 2000s, internal migrations became less intense: almost all of the variations were no more than +/10% during the decade. In the current context of negative migration balance, particularly affecting inland agricultural and former industrial and mining centres, the only ongoing positive exceptions are the hinterlands of Cagliari and Sassari, the town of Olbia and the tourist municipalities of the northeastern and eastern coast, which are still attractive to both internal and international flows (Abis, 2007; Carcangiu et al., 1999).

Figure 6.1. Population in Sardinia between 1688 and 2011. Source: Corsale A. on data by ISTAT (2012)

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It should be noted that municipal data, essentially based on selfdeclared residency, are affected by several contrasting deformations. For example, many university students and other young people live in Cagliari and Sassari, or out of the island, but often keep their residency in the rural settlements, with an over counting effect in the place of origin. House taxation also plays a role, in that many holiday houses in coastal towns are registered as residences in order to get tax reduction, while the inhabitants actually live elsewhere. Seasonality of seaside tourism, as well, is reflected in demographic terms by high numbers of unregistered inhabitants and workers in coastal areas during summer. The following figures show the contrasting trends of settlements with different socio-economic histories and features. The economy of Arzachena (Province of Olbia-Tempio), formerly characterized by poor agropastoral activities, has been flourishing since the 1960s thanks to a remarkable tourism development, particularly in the renowned Costa Smeralda area, while the economy of Desulo (Province of Nuoro), a typical agropastoral village of inner Sardinia, has been experiencing a deep crisis.

Figure 6.2. Population of Arzachena (Province of Olbia-Tempio) and Desulo (Province of Nuoro) between 1861 and 2011. Source: Corsale A. on data by ISTAT (2012)

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Carbonia (Province of Carbonia-Iglesias), a formerly tiny settlement in a largely uninhabited area, rapidly grew after its foundation as a model mining and industrial city by the Fascist regime (1937), but has subsequently been declining along with its short-lived secondary sector, while Assemini (Province of Cagliari), a traditional agricultural settlement of the Campidano plain, has largely been absorbed by Cagliari and turned into a suburb, particularly attractive for young families due to its relatively affordable housing prices.

Figure 6.3. Population of Carbonia (Province of Carbonia-Iglesias) and Assemini (Province of Cagliari) between 1861 and 2011. Source: Corsale A. on data by ISTAT (2012).

Current dynamics Between 2001 and 2011, the recorded regional demographic variation of +0.7% hides different dynamics, mainly related to different economic performances and the attractiveness of different areas. The relatively economically active provinces of Olbia-Tempio (+9.6%), Sassari (+2.3%) and Cagliari (+1.5%) thus counterbalanced the economically weak provinces of Ogliastra (-1.5%), Oristano (-2.3%), Carbonia-Iglesias (2.5%), Nuoro (-3.5%) and Medio Campidano (-3.8%). At a local level, however, as already seen, growth was almost exclusively recorded in the

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greater urban contexts of Cagliari and Sassari and in the solid tourist districts along the eastern and northeastern coast, most notably in the town of Olbia (14,700 inhabitants in 1951, 45,400 in 2001, 53,300 in 2011). Moreover, a large part of this growth was due to immigration (from 10,800 foreign residents in 2001, 0.7% of regional population, to 30,700 in 2011, 1.9% of regional population). Not surprisingly, foreign population is concentrated in the stronger areas of Cagliari (10,200 people, 1.9% of provincial population), Olbia-Tempio (7,600 people, 5.1%) and Sassari (5,400, 1.7%), with the Medio Campidano showing the lowest percentage of foreign population in the whole of Italy (800 people, 0.8% of provincial population). Data at a municipal level show many cases of severe demographic collapse between 2001 and 2011, all of them located in inland areas (Semestene from 227 to 171 inhabitants, -24.7%, Ussassai from 763 to 599, -21.5%, Soddì from 142 to 116, -18.3%, Ardauli from 1,158 to 946, 18.3%, etc.), challenging their survival as autonomous municipalities. Sardinia, like the other Italian regions, is characterized by an aging population: the aging index is rapidly increasing (116.1% in 2001, 164.1% in 2011), and is now higher than the national average (148.7%). The index is particularly high and rapidly growing in the provinces of Oristano (140.3% in 2001, 200.1% in 2011), Carbonia-Iglesias (from 124.4% to 193.2%) and Medio Campidano (from 124.9% to 183.4%), while the lowest level is recorded in the province of Olbia-Tempio (106.1% in 2001, 136.2% in 2011), which is the only one where the aging index is lower than the national Italian average. In 2012, a birth rate of 7.6‰ and a death rate of 9.5‰ make for a progressively worsening scenario in the regional context. Moreover, in spite of a slight recovery in the most recent years, fertility rates remain extremely low (1.04 in 2001, 1.11 in 2013 for the whole region), well below the already worrying Italian data (1.25 and 1.39, respectively). In the meantime, the settlement structure of Sardinia has been affected by evolutionary phenomena that are producing significant effects on the system of territorial relations, in particular between the central and peripheral areas (Salaris, 2012). The strongest demographic pressure is to be found in the greater Cagliari area, which can be variously delimited, including - or not - former agricultural centres located in the southern Campidano plain. Switching from census data to more recent municipal figures, it is even more evident that this geographical area attracts people from all over the island and outside. Its core, made of 16 municipalities, grew from 408,200 inhabitants in 2001 to 419,500 in 2013, with stagnation or decline of its

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inner urban components (from 164,200 to 153,400 in the municipality of Cagliari, from 68,000 to 69,200 in the satellite town of Quartu Sant’Elena) and rampant growth of suburbs with more affordable housing prices (for example Sestu, from 15,200 to 20,400, and Assemini, from 24,000 to 26,700). Adopting a broader definition of metropolitan area (29 gravitating municipalities), the total population grew even more rapidly, from 473,200 to 490,000), with several traditional rural settlements clearly becoming satellite centres, particularly when located along or near the highways and railways departing from Cagliari (Comune di Cagliari, 2011, 2014; Frau & Gatti, 2002; Provincia di Cagliari, 2012). 100+ 90-94 80-84 Age group

70-74 60-64 50-54 40-44 30-34 20-24 10-14 0-4

262 1929 6601 18622 29846 37151 44779 47511 55002 57921 62308 68358 66509 64378 54133 47234 42286 36540 33235 32010 31506

81 819 2.923 9.752 19.185 28.114 37.905 43.364 52.631 55.776 60.080 66.484 65.834 65.852 55.961 48.821 44.541 39.467 35.568 34.471 33.612

100.000

50.000

0

50.000

Females Males

100.000

Figure 6.4. Population pyramid of Sardinia (2013). Source: Corsale A. on data by ISTAT (2013)

The area of greater Sassari shows partial differences, due to the large territorial extension of the municipality of Sassari itself, which is far from being saturated by urban expansion. Nevertheless, commuting dynamics are intense in the northwestern part of the island, and urban sprawl determined the formation of a pole including six municipalities which grew from 152,212 inhabitants in 2001 to 162,501 in 2013 and an enlarged multipolar agglomeration of 20 municipalities, including Alghero and Porto Torres, which grew from 248,800 people in 2001 to 266,800 in 2013, albeit in a relatively low-density context (Comune di Sassari, 2007). The two main urban areas, plus Olbia (53,300 inhabitants in 2011, 57,900

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in 2013), thus made up 814,700 people in 2013, 49% of the total regional population (up from 47.5% in 2001). Life expectancy (85.0 years for women and 79.2 for men in 2013) is close to the national average of Italy (respectively 84.6 and 79.8), one of the highest in the world (ISTAT, 2014). Central-eastern Sardinia is one of the most well-known “blue zones” in the world, due to its exceptionally high share of centenarians, particularly males, whose genetic, environmental and cultural bases are still under investigation (Poulain et al., 2004).

Future tendencies Analysis of the data provided by censuses and municipalities shows that the tendency toward the strengthening of the coastal towns linked with services and the tourist economy has taken a structural, long-term continuity. Sardinia appears increasingly sharply divided into two main areas: the coastal strip with a constant growth trend, more or less pronounced in different areas, and the rest of the territory, distant from the sea, where depopulation is more or less intense. The phenomena described above have produced a structure in which urban polarities of different rank are recognizable: a. the three main urban areas of Cagliari, Sassari-Alghero and Olbia, where the integration of tourism with other industries and with tertiary and commercial activities determined spatial organization typical of urban sprawl; b. secondary polarities such as Nuoro, Oristano, Carbonia-Iglesias, Tempio and Tortolì, reference centres of sub-local settlement systems; c. the multipolar system of the centres of the Campidano plain, which tends to amount to a relatively continuous urban axis spread between Cagliari and Oristano, along highways and railways; d. the coastal tourist system, which is a relevant attractive factor demographically, particularly along the eastern, northeastern and northern coast, although similar expansive trends are also recognizable in most of the remaining perimeter of the island, with the notable exception of the less-developed southwest. Local forms of economic integration between coastal and internal areas are taking place, especially on the eastern side of the island, linking, for

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example, the agricultural and tourist segments, thus spreading relative demographic dynamism to greater areas (Abis, 2007). As for its future prospects and trends, accepting the documented analysis provided by Esposito (2011) and Bellinzas (2007), the population of Sardinia, in spite of the slight progress recorded in 2011, mainly due to immigration, is expected to decline at a gradually increasing pace, between 5% and 20% by 2030, and up to 43% by 2050, according to different models. The only province where a lasting increase in the population is estimated, only fading at the end of the forecast period, is the province of Olbia-Tempio (northeast), with an overall increase of about 19% by 2030 and stability by 2065 (central prediction). In all the other areas, with the partial exception of greater Cagliari (where the population is expected to increase at least until 2020), pronounced decline is expected, which could exceed 30% in central and southwestern areas, characterized by industrial and agricultural decline. In the near future the population of Sardinia is expected to experience very small changes: at the end of the 2010-2020 decade the projected margin of oscillation would be around 4% (central prediction). This expected period of stability is derived from both the gradualness of demographic behaviour changes and, to a lesser extent, from the recent recorded trends, showing ongoing positive migratory balance. Consequently the changes assumed for the acquired demographic parameters would require a more extended period of time to exert their influence. In the medium / long term, the expected population varies considerably depending on the trajectory set, but outlines a clear trend: by 2030, the median year of the forecast, the estimated population would be larger than today only in the highest estimate, compared to decreases of between 5 and 15% in other scenarios. Subsequently, in the longer term, the reduction of the population would take place in all scenarios, so that the contraction in 2050 compared to 2010 would be at least 6%, while in the most unfavourable trend there would be an astonishing 43% reduction (Atzeni, 2000; Bellinzas, 2007; CIREM, 2006; Esposito, 2011, 2012). In all cases, the share of elderly classes would increase significantly, leading to very evident problems of economic assistance and health care, especially when compared to the increasingly meagre contingent of individuals who will be called to support them. The provinces which significantly deviate from the given regional scenario are, on one side, Olbia-Tempio, characterized by a strong upward trend and able to preserve, in the medium term, the current amount of the population even in the lowest growth scenario, and, at the other extreme, Carbonia-Iglesias,

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Figure 6.6. Population changes in Sardinian municipalities (2001-2011). Source: Corsale A. on data by ISTAT (2012)

Medio Campidano and Oristano, which, in all the scenarios, would undergo rapid demographic decline. At the municipal level, these dynamics show further differentiation. Significant population growth by the mid-21st century is expected to occur only in a few municipalities along the eastern and northeastern coast and, to a lesser extent, in some suburban centres

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around Cagliari and Sassari. They are, at least in terms of geographical proximity, places which offer better economic opportunities for the younger generations of the inland, combined with relatively affordable housing prices. In this picture the role played by tourism activities, particularly those related to the summer season, is still largely preponderant at the expense of primary and secondary sectors, which are affected by structural crisis (Bachis, 2013; Tiragallo, 2009). The continuation of these trends, with all the demographic imbalances reported, would produce a demographic map of Sardinia that can be evocatively identified as a ring, empty at the centre and filled along the sides. Any changing dynamics of the demographic parameters would not probably be able to absorb the effects of changes in reproductive behaviors that have occurred in the last 30-40 years of low fertility. At the same time, immigration might counterbalance these trends through direct population inflows, a younger age structure, and greater dynamism in reproductive behaviour (Bachis, 2013). Secondly, an important contribution might result from a sustained recovery in fertility, in spite of the complexity and multiplicity of factors that determine fertility level. According to the current scenario, people of working age have a higher probability of residence transfer from declining to growing areas, also bringing their children, who are the future fertile segment of the population. Immigrants also tend to concentrate in the stronger provinces of Cagliari, Olbia-Tempio and Sassari, thus directly strengthening the existing trend. In marginal areas, such as the province of Carbonia-Iglesias, population aging and a growing dependency ratio seriously risk inhibiting future economic recovery and growth.

References Abis, Emanuela. Il sistema insediativo della Sardegna: centralità costiere, periferie dei territori interni. Naples: Planum online, 2007. Anatra, Bruno, Giuseppe Puggioni and Giuseppe Serri. Storia della popolazione in Sardegna nell’epoca moderna. Cagliari: AM&D, 1997. Angioni, Daniela, Sergio Loi and Giuseppe Puggioni. La popolazione nei comuni sardi dal 1688 al 1991. Cagliari: CUEC, 1997. Atzeni, Simone. Previsioni demografiche. Alcune note metodologiche ed una applicazione al caso dei comuni della Sardegna. Cagliari: Quaderni del Dipartimento di Ricerche Economiche e Sociali, Sezione Statistica, 2000.

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Bachis Francesco. “Buoni per vivere, buoni per vendere. Commercio ambulante e migranti dal Marocco nella Sardegna centrale”. In Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme, pratiche, territori, edited by Silvia Aru, Andrea Corsale, Marcello Tanca. Cagliari: CUEC, pp. 239-249, 2013. Bellinzas, Matteo. Previsioni demografiche dei comuni della Sardegna 2006/2016, Quaderni di lavoro CRENoS 2007/01. Cagliari: CUEC, 2007. Bottazzi, Gianfranco. Eppur si muove! Saggio sulle peculiarità del processo di modernizzazione in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 1999. Bottazzi, Gianfranco and Giuseppe Puggioni. “Lo spopolamento in Sardegna come tendenza di lungo periodo”. In Dinamiche demografiche in Sardegna tra passato e futuro, edited by Marco Breschi. Udine: Forum, pp. 73-96, 2012. Carcangiu, Rosanna, Giovanni Sistu and Stefano Usai. Struttura socio economica dei comuni della Sardegna. Suggerimenti da un’analisi cluster. Cagliari: Contributi di Ricerca CRENoS, 1999. CIREM - Centro Interuniversitario Ricerche Economiche e Mobilità. Revisione critica dei modelli previsivi della dinamica della popolazione residente e fluttuante relativi all’aggiornamento del Piano Regionale Generale degli Acquedotti della Sardegna. Cagliari, 2006. Centro Regionale di Programmazione Superficie. Popolazione, abitazioni e attività economiche al 1971 per comprensorio e provincia. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1978. Coletti, Francesco. La mortalità nei primi anni di età e la vita sociale della Sardegna. Turin: Fratelli Bocca, 1908. Comune di Cagliari. Piano Strategico del Comune di Cagliari, 2011. —. Atlante demografico di Cagliari 2013. Assessorato all’Informatica e Statistica, 2014. Comune di Sassari. Piano Strategico del Comune di Sassari, 2007. Esposito, Massimo. Analisi socio-demografica della Sardegna (secc. XIXXXI). Approcci micro e macro. Università degli studi di Sassari – Dottorato di ricerca in Diritto ed Economia dei Sistemi Produttivi, 2011. —. “Previsioni provinciali e comunali della popolazione della Sardegna”. In Dinamiche demografiche in Sardegna tra passato e futuro, edited by Marco Breschi. Udine: Forum, pp. 167-218, 2012. Frau, Angela S. and Anna M. Gatti. Tendenze demografiche recenti in Sardegna. Università di Cagliari, Quaderni del Dipartimento di Ricerche Economiche e Sociali - Sezione Statistica, 2002.

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Gatti, Anna M. and Giuseppe Puggioni. “Storia della popolazione dal 1847 ad oggi”. In Storia d’Italia, Le Regioni. Sardegna. Turin: Einaudi, pp. 1040-1079, 1998. Gentileschi, Maria Luisa. “The population of Sardinia. Recent changes in distribution”. In Economic and population trends in the Mediterranean islands, edited by Maria R. Carli. Rome: Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, 1995. Golini, Antonio. Aspetti demografici della Sardegna, Quaderni del Seminario di Scienze Politiche dell’Università di Cagliari. Milan: Giuffrè, 1965. Leone, Anna, Maria L. Gentileschi and Antonio Loi. Sardi a Stoccarda. Cagliari: Georicerche, 1979. Mori, Alberto. Sardegna. Vol. XVIII of the collection “Le Regioni d’Italia”, founded by Roberto Almagià, directed by Elio Migliorini, Turin: UTET, 1966. Mura, Paolo B. La popolazione in Sardegna: dati e proiezioni dal 1962 al 2000. Sassari: Banco di Sardegna, 1994. Pardi, Giuseppe. La Sardegna e la sua popolazione attraverso i secoli. Cagliari: Il Nuraghe, 1925. Poulain, Michel, Giovanni M. Pes, Claude Grasland, Ciriaco Carru, Luigi Ferrucci, Giovannella Baggio, Claudio Franceschi and Luca Deiana. “Identification of a Geographic Area Characterized by Extreme Longevity in the Sardinia Island: the AKEA study”. Experimental Gerontology, 39(9), pp. 1423–1429, 2004. Provincia di Cagliari. Piano Strategico intercomunale dell’area vasta di Cagliari, 2012. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna. “Atlante Ambientale”. La Programmazione in Sardegna, 36(3), 2003. Salaris, Luisa. “Recenti tendenze dell’invecchiamento e della sopravvivenza in Sardegna”. In Dinamiche demografiche in Sardegna tra passato e futuro, edited by Marco Breschi. Udine: Forum, pp. 161-165, 2012. Salinas, Umberto. Evoluzione strutturale della famiglia in Italia (19511991). Bari: Cacucci Editore, 2000. Tiragallo, Felice. Restare Paese. Per un’etnografia dello spopolamento in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 2009.

Websites http://www.istat.it/ http://www.sardegnastatistiche.it/

1,631,880

56,995,744

Sassari

Sardinia

Italy

59,464,644

1,642,528

329,616

151,627

164,113

57,492

158,456

101,396

128,581

551,247

Population 2011

4.3

0.7

2.3

9.6

-2.3

-1.5

-3.5

-3.8

-2.5

1.5

Variation %

8.97

7.59

7.66

9.21

5.97

7.50

7.71

6.49

6.59

Birth rate ‰ 2012 8.00

Appendix A

Area

10.29

9.53

10.00

8.75

11.45

9.35

10.55

9.80

10.13

Death rate ‰ 2012 8.44

Table 6.1. Basic demographic data by province (1). Source: ISTAT (2001; 2014)

138,334

322,326

Olbia-Tempio

167,971

Nuoro

Oristano

105,400

164,260

Medio Campidano

58,389

131,890

Carbonia-Iglesias

Ogliastra

543,310

Population 2001

Cagliari

Area

80

-1.32

-1.94

-2.34

0.46

-5.48

-1.85

-2.84

-3.31

-3.53

Natural balance ‰ 2012 -0.44

6.21

3.49

7.82

12.50

1.81

1.36

-2.13

-2.18

0.07

Migration balance ‰ 2012 2.59

4.89

1.55

5.48

12.96

-3.67

-0.49

-4.97

-5.49

-3.46

Total balance ‰ 2012 2.15

124.9

124.4

115.8

116.9

140.3

106.1

118.9

116.1

129.3

Carbonia-Iglesias

Medio Campidano

Nuoro

Ogliastra

Oristano

Olbia-Tempio

Sassari

Sardinia

Italy

151.4

169.2

165.4

133.2

200.4

165.3

161.9

192.3

183.4

154.1

Aging index 2013

1.25

1.04

1.06

1.11

1.01

1.19

1.19

0.99

0.88

1.00

Fertility rate 2001

1.39

1.11

1.10

1.28

1.03

1.25

1.18

1.09

0.98

1.10

Fertility rate 2013

41.9

40.7

40.9

40.2

42.0

40.5

40.7

40.9

41.2

Average age of the population 2001 40.0

44.0

44.6

44.6

43.1

46.0

44.5

44.5

45.3

45.9

Average age of the population 2013 44.2

Table 6.2. Basic demographic data by province (2). Source: ISTAT (2001; 2014)

105.9

Aging index 2001

Cagliari

Area

Demographics of Sardinia: Main Features and Trends

2.6

2.8

2.7

2.6

2.8

2.7

2.8

2.9

2.8

Average size of families 2001 2.8

2.4

2.4

2.4

2.3

2.5

2.3

2.4

2.6

2.4

Average size of families 2013 2.4

81

CHAPTER SEVEN “DESERTING THE CITY AND THE COUNTRYSIDE”: SOCIOECONOMIC RESTRUCTURING AND MIGRATION PROCESS SILVIA ARU

Introduction Migration is considered a structural, endemic and complex feature in the history of Sardinia, and since its start in the early 20th century it has been connected with the delayed development caused by the regional production system compared to international and national ones (Ortu, 1983). Thus, starting from the unification of Italy, an analysis of Sardinian migration entails tracing the flow of migrants, outlining the routes they followed and describing the complex socio-territorial dynamics that characterized the island for a hundred and fifty years (Gentileschi, 1983a). Mobility from Sardinia - today there are approximately 107,500 Sardinians who officially reside in foreign countries1 - appears different

1

The quantitative datum in 2014 refers to Sardinians registered with AIRE (the Register of Italians Residing Abroad). This is a clearly underestimated figure since it only considers those who have kept their Italian nationality and have registered with AIRE. It is not easy to discover how many Sardinians live abroad. The available databases (AIRE; ISTAT; CONSULAR RECORDS) are different and do not always agree. For some years now there have been large discrepancies in the different sources about the numbers of Sardinians abroad depending on the criteria used to estimate people of Sardinian origin (by birth in Sardinia, born of Sardinian parents and so on). The totals are relatively high, and this is true of Italy in general. Not even foreign sources are helpful since they are based on nationality and not on regional origin. Although the data cannot provide us with statistically reliable

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from that of other Italian regions, especially the southern part of Italy, where it was generally socio-economic factors that drove migration (Gentileschi, 1995b). The first important flows from the island took place at the beginning of the 20th century2 with a relative delay compared to those from the rest of the country3 and never reached a similar number in absolute terms (Zaccagnini, 1995). This delay is unlikely to have been due to the better living conditions of Sardinian farmers and shepherds compared to the farm workers who abandoned other Italian regions, but simply due to “the isolation of Sardinian society in general and the level of single settlements” (Gentileschi, 1995b, p. 12) which did not seem to provide a useful comparison with other areas regarding the poor living conditions that induced people to migrate in the first place.4 A further factor to consider is the low level of consumption and low population density, which did initially delay the start of migration flows from the island. In reality, the particularly low population density of Sardinia, compared to the mainland areas that contributed most to Italian migration, is a factor that clearly continued to exist after migration began, thus making its impact particularly dramatic on the territory in terms of depopulation and the impoverishment of the active workforce. Owing to its low demographic density, migration from Sardinia impacted (and continues to impact) on the already fragile dynamics of settlement, characterized initially by the desertification of the rural fabric, by the depopulation of most of the areas in the interior and, from the second postwar period, by the concentration of the island’s population in a few urban and industrial centres (Rudas, 1974). Whereas an excess of population is considered the driving force of migration flows in the classic literature, in the case of Sardinia it is insufficient territorial resources due in part to a scarcity of manpower numbers since they are often underestimated, they do help us in drawing up a rough picture and a broader understanding of the phenomenon. 2 It is with the beginning of the 20th century that the flows became more consistent, with over a thousand per year. 3 Between 1876 and 1886, of 10,000 inhabitants, 1.5 Sardinians went abroad compared to an Italian average of 47; between 1887 and 1900, the ratio was 7 Sardinians to an Italian average of 87; between 1901 and 1909 the proportion increased to 62 and 179 (Gentileschi, 1995). 4 In this situation, the lesser propensity of Sardinians to leave cannot be explained simply as a question of connections between the island and mainland Italy. In fact, since 1845, Sardinia has had good connections with the rest of Italy, especially with Genoa (and its important harbour), but also with Corsica and the harbours of North Africa (Lo Monaco, 1965).

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(Ortu, 2005) that appears to have been the cause of migration, rather than the absolute number of inhabitants. This remains the case even when resources are not economic in the strict sense; as Rudas stated as far back as the 1970s, migrations are in fact connected to an “open” need (Rudas, 1974, p. 71). And even though this need is not necessarily caused by a purely economic force, but may also be more or less tinted and integrated by other motivations and the contexts in which they develop, there is a general condition of backwardness and insufficiency behind the departures when conditions inhibit the satisfaction of needs and, when all is said and done, do not allow migrants to reach their goals in their place of origin (Ibid.).

Even the resumption in recent years5 of significant flows from Italy can hardly be interpreted as a simple “endemic and natural process” in demographic dynamics, or as an eminently socio-cultural fact.6 However, starting from the 1980s,7 this linear interpretation has become common currency in Italy in a large number of studies/reports on the sector. It is an interpretation that runs the risk of being uncritical, decontextualized and appears not to offer a valid explanation as to why Sardinia, for example, like the rest of Italy, is exporting more and more high-profile professionals, but at the same time fails to attract the same number of such persons from abroad and to employ them in highly qualified and well-paid jobs8 (Krasna, 2013). Therefore, it would seem more expedient to reinterpret Italian and Sardinian migration in connection with the specific times in which “the process of adaptation in sectors of the capitalistic world is more acute”9 5

In a world that is globalized and more and more on the move, migrations are the fruit of a series of many factors (personal reasons, cultural, social motives and those more strictly economic and political). 6 With reference to Sardinia, see Crespi’s interpretation (Gentileschi, 1995a). 7 In studies on Italian migrations in the last thirty years can be seen an everincreasing adoption of the interpretation of migrations as an endemic process in social life, starting from the first large wave at the end of the 19th century. This interpretation arose in clear contrast to the previous “expulsion model”, according to which migrations were the reflection of the backwardness of the socio-economic system which, at specific times in history, imposed on segments of the population more or less vast and diversified from the socio-economic standpoint – the need to leave their countries in search of better living conditions. 8 Thus in this specific case the problem is not in terms of a “ brain drain”, but is a lack of “circulation of brains” (Krasna, 2013). 9 See Merlet, 1987, p. 359.

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and relate the resumption of migration to a socio-economic context that is becoming poorer and poorer and more asphyxiating. From this analytical perspective, the following pages will review the main stages of Sardinian migration, with no pretense of being comprehensive. The first took place between the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries; the second was in the second post-war period when the phenomenon regained consistency and reached its maximum intensity between 1955 and 1962 (Zaccagnini, 1995; Gentileschi, 1995b); and the third, which is still underway, in a stage where the severe economic and social crisis that is currently devastating the island is forcing more and more people to migrate to foreign countries.

The first migratory waves at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries The first official documents on outflows from the island go back to 184310 and report on the currents of migrants that left the areas of Gonnesa and Carloforte to go and find work in Algeria.11 These instances of migration towards agricultural areas in North African were often seasonal in nature and, as the historian Siotto Pintor pointed out, were induced by specific causes of an economic nature, namely, endemic misery and years of poor harvests. They did not meet with the favour of the Italian kings who, on the contrary, attempted in vain to impose restrictions on the issuing of passports between 1840 and 1850. At the same time there began a vociferous advertising campaign on the risks and dangers of emigration. But it was between the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries that we can speak of “widespread mobility” in the true sense of the term. From the beginning, Sardinians followed different migration routes compared to those of migrants from the rest of Italy; they were different from the south as well as the north, despite closer connections with the latter, in particular Genoa. Given their proximity to North Africa, emigration

10 However, there had been movements of mobility to and from Sardinia throughout history. Here we must also mention the constant mobility between Sardinia and Corsica starting as far back as the 15th century. 11 See the pioneering studies by Lorenzo Del Piano on Sardinian emigration to Algeria (Del Piano, 1962).

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Figure 7.1. Sardinian migration Processes (1876- 1891). Own Elaboration. Data Source: Vinelli, 1898, quoted in Rudas, 1974: 11.

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to Algeria went hand in hand with direct moves to Tunisia.12 In the latter case, the traffic of people and goods became so intense that starting from the mid-19th century the maritime routes connecting Genoa, Porto Torres, Cagliari and Tunis were intensified, with departures every fifteen days. Besides this flow of migrants to North Africa, most departures were towards Europe, especially France13 (which absorbed 41.4% of migrants to Europe).14 After North Africa and France came Argentina, the most important distant overseas destination in numerical terms.15 This first large migratory movement from the island was a veritable example of an “escape from the land” (Rudas, 1974, p. 15), particularly affecting the western Logudoro and Bosa areas (Gentileschi, 1983b); between 1906 and 1914 about 123,155 people chose to leave this part of Sardinia (Gentileschi, 1995b). To put things in an historical context, Sardinia was going through an important process of a reorganization of its previous socio-economic fabric, the result of reforms that had begun to be enacted by the Piedmontese government before reunification, for the purpose of modernizing the island and its agro-pastoral economic system. Among these measures the following are worth recalling: the enclosures Act (1820);16 the redemption of the fiefs (1839); “the perfect fusion” (1847);17 12

The opening of the Genoa - Cagliari - Tunis route (every fifteen days) facilitated the latter flow. See L. Del Piano, 1962, 1964. 13 We must also mention the fairly large numbers of migrants, mostly from Gallura, to Corsica and France, especially Marseilles. 14 In those years France received 26.2% of the rest of Italian emigrants to European countries. 15 The predilection for Argentina can easily be explained by the large number of contacts between the island and Genoa, the port of departure for the routes to South America (Gentileschi, 1983b, 1995b). Of the Sardinians who decided to go overseas, 54.5% chose Argentina against 14.9% of migrants from southern Italy who went en mass to the United States. It is no coincidence that in 1989 the Sardinian community in Argentina was defined “the most consistent and wellorganized Sardinian group outside of Europe” (Regione Autonoma della Sardegna, 1989, cit. in Zaccagnini, 1995, p. 142). 16 The “Royal Edict on the Enclosures of Common Lands and Those of the Crown, and on Tobacco in the Kingdom of Sardinia” was issued on 6 October 1820 by the king of Sardinia Victor Emanuel I and published in 1823. This act de facto introduced private property, since it authorized the fencing in of lands that by ancient tradition had been considered and managed as public property. 17 The “perfect fusion” refers to the political and administrative union of all lands in the Kingdom of Sardinia: the island, the mainland states of Piedmont, Savoy, Nice and the former Republic of Genoa and the former imperial fiefs of the Ligurian Apennines.

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the abolition of common property and ‘cussorgia’ (the assigning of pastures to a single shepherd)18 (1865); the institution of the single land tax and the land registry (1851-1865).19 These reforms led to a strong contraction in the labour market for hired farm workers and subsequently for small farm owners (Gentileschi, 1995b). The 1896 survey on the economic conditions in Sardinia20 that Crispi had asked Francesco Pais Serra to conduct offered a description of an island with an inefficient agropastoral economy21 lacking in infrastructures – roads, bridges, canals, railways – and one that was strongly penalized by the “tariff war” between Italy and France,22 which had closed the doors of the main foreign markets to Sardinian goods such as cheeses, leather, cork and minerals. One consequence of this war was that a number of banks failed, reducing large numbers of depositors to poverty. The first one to close was the Sardinian Credito Agricolo Industriale Sardo. But this was a crisis felt most acutely in Sardinia. Starting from the mid-1920s, migration met with a dual obstacle: on the one hand the increasingly restrictive policies adopted by many foreign states after the 1929 Depression (Aru, 2011), and on the other hand the policies of the fascist government which, starting from 1926, applied stricter controls and an ironclad regulation of migration from Italy (Aru, Deplano, 2013). 18

The right of ademprivio (common use of lands) and cussorgia (the assigning of pastures to a single shepherd) were traditional rights of Sardinians. The former concerned grazing, water, hunting and fishing on common lands; for centuries these rights made it possible for the poor to satisfy at least the primary needs of their families. In cussorgia, similar to ademprivio, grazing rights were not attributed to the inhabitants of a village but to a single shepherd and could be handed down from father to son. These were traditional rights transmitted ab immemore on goods that were mostly of feudal origin. 19 The creation of the single tax imposed an iniquitous and heavy tax burden on the population, further aggravating a situation that was already difficult (Ortu, Cadoni, 1983). 20 Report of the inquest into the economic and public security conditions in Sardinia, 1896. 21 Poor agricultural development, a decrease in the price of milk, the lack of tariff protection of farm produce and livestock, the development of the dairy industry and consequent decrease in land for cereal crops. 22 Starting from 1877, Italy unilaterally embarked on a tariff policy for the protection of the products of its developing industries of the North. This act, an open violation of the economic treaty signed with France in 1863, caused (in 1887) the total blockade of imports from France, whose market was one of the main ones for Italian agricultural and farming products, especially livestock and wine (Ortu, Cadoni, 1983).

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Not only did the economic difficulties not cease, they also worsened in the years from 1930 to 1940. Living conditions in rural areas became more and more precarious (Gentileschi, 1995b), despite the fact that the “Legge del miliardo” approved by the fascist government (Royal Legislative Decree no. 1931) set aside large sums for the building of public works (railways, roads, ports, reclamation projects). However, the funds for agriculture were reduced (a quarter of the total) and above all no incentives were provided for livestock breeding. This oversight widened the structural and productive gap between the different sectors of the island’s economy:23 many see in this imbalance the explanation of the resumption of Sardinian migration in the second post-war period (Ibidem; Aru, 2014).

Migrations in the second post-war period Approximately a hundred thousand young people, but probably even more - the best, the most highly educated and well-prepared, many of whom had already specialized - left the cities and villages in search of the opportunities they had not found in their own land (Lussu, 1962)24.

The political considerations of Emilio Lussu, then a senator of the Republic, were expressed in his opening speech before the Sardinian regional congress of the Italian Socialist Party in December 1962.25 He spoke explicitly of the question of emigration and unemployment among young people (Cadoni, 1983) and openly criticized the new national project for post-war development that was supposed to help regenerate the island. In Sardinia, following the war, another important process of transformation of the economic and social organization was set in motion by Regional Law no. 7 of 2 July 1962 (better known as the Legge sul “Piano di Rinascita”) and its grand plan for the development of industrial areas in the petrochemical sector. In the long term, it became evident that the 23

The “wheat battle” subtracted further land from livestock breeding (Ortu, Cadoni, 1983). 24 Emilio Lussu, “Discorso di apertura della Conferenza”, in Atti della Conferenza regionale Sarda del Partito Socialista Italiano, Edizioni Avanti!, 1962, p. 11, cit. in Cadoni, 1983, p. 71 25 The subject of the congress was a reflection on National Law no. 588 of 2 June 1962 and Regional Law no. 7of 2 July 1962, better known as the Legge sul Piano di Rinascita (Law on the Plan for Rebirth). See http://www.regione.sardegna.it/j/v/86v=9&c=72&s=1&file=1962007.

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petrochemical industry was too disconnected from the local resources and productive fabric and never really became the driving force of the island’s economy (Gentileschi, 1983b). In other words, having drained copious Regional Government funds, the petrochemical sector failed to generate or promote manufacturing activities or lasting secondary sector processing plants. These refineries not only became more and more polarized but also contributed to worsening certain processes that had already been disrupting the island’s socio-economic fabric (Murgia, 1976). Despite amendments to the “Piano di Rinascita”, there was a reduction in investment and productivity in primary economic activities,26 as well as a drastic drop in the number of those employed in agriculture: 220,000 in 1951 (50.9% of the workforce); 166,000 in 1961 (37.6%) and 91,000 in 1971 (21.5%).27 On the other hand, although it produced an initial increase in employment of 1% in the decade from 1951 to 1961, the industrial sector proved unable to absorb workers from agriculture, especially during the 1970s and thereafter. These workers drifted into the construction industry, then into the tertiary sector and finally into jobs in public administration. By 1975, the “Piano di Rinascita” had not created the 145,000 jobs set as a target by the law itself. An increase in unemployment struck the sectors of metallurgy, farming and livestock breeding28 and once again activated mobility from the areas most affected by the crisis. The demographic decreases, connected with new waves of mobility were

26 Figures on regional gross income, which doubled between 1963 and 1973 need to be carefully read. As a matter of fact, if we examine this income spread the “concentration ratio” proves to be extremely high. 20% of the island’s families possessed 50% of regional wealth. Thus it was also the family as a social and economic unit that went into crisis together with productivity in farming areas. 27 The land reform, which began in 1951, did not produce the expected results and had little impact on the re-launch of the economy and the modernization of the agro-pastoral sector (Gentileschi, 1983b). There was a drastic reduction in the population active in agriculture (especially in the areas of Thiesi-Bonorva, Tempio, Mogoro, Isili, Macomer and Sanluri). 28 In 1963 the unemployment rate was 3.9%; in 1970 it had risen to 5.1%. There was a sharp decrease in those employed in the lead and zinc mines (from 8,202 in 1949 to 4,796 in 1964) and also in coalmines (from 11,373 to 1,924). The effects in terms of emigration were clear from the very beginning in the first sector (19531959), while the crisis (almost endemic) in farming and livestock breeding was slower and at the same time offered more possibilities of subsistence provided by the land (Cadoni, 1983).

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noteworthy, especially from 1961 onwards,29 when the trend towards a decrease in population became more accentuated and involved larger and larger areas.30 The profound crisis that struck many areas in Sardinia caused a twofold dynamic of mobility and actually created further territorial imbalances.31 A first form of mobility was of a clearly intra-regional nature and was directed towards the urban and industrial poles of Cagliari, Oristano, Sassari-Porto Torres, Nuoro, Arbatax-Tortolì and Macomer. These centres saw a sharp increase in population, which was, however, numerically lower than the decrease in the areas that were losing population. The reason behind this was that a new migratory phase had begun (from the early fifties onwards), which differed from the previous one both quantitatively and qualitatively (Rudas, 1971). Quantitatively, in the second post-war period people began speaking of an actual “exodus” of a population in the order of between 1,200,000 and 1,400,000 (Callia, 2008). In the sixteen years between 1955 and 1971 as many as 400,982 Sardinians migrated, most in the direction of other Italian regions, especially the northeastern ones32 (307,759), and the others abroad (92,223). However, even these striking numbers appear to underestimate the phenomenon since they are based on data regarding changes in residence and do not take into account those who did not bother to change their residence status or who went abroad using a tourist passport. Despite the important presence of the shepherds’ communities in Liguria, Latium and Tuscany, Sardinian migration to other Italian regions was of a prevalently urban nature (Rudas, 1974). Although more limited than that to other Italian regions, migration abroad began again with renewed intensity. Compared to the past, in the second post-war period migrations to North Africa diminished considerably (Rudas, 1971). Thus the first wave chose Europe as a primary destination33 and indeed, in comparison with the rest of Italy, Sardinian migrants continued 29

In a previous period, between 1951 and 1961, there was a decrease in population in the areas of Thiesi-Bonorva, Ghilarza, Ozieri and Iglesias. 30 The latter did not coincide, as was the case in a very early period (1951-1961), with the mining and agricultural areas only, but expanded to reach the grazing lands (Gentileschi, 1983b). 31 Migration created a vicious circle, emptying the countryside and causing the regression to pasture land of vast formerly cultivated areas (Rudas, 1974). 32 In character and size, the migrations of shepherds to the lands freed by the rural exodus in Tuscany, Latium, Liguria and Emilia were significant. 33 The extra-European flow, representing about 5% of Sardinian migration, was mostly towards the United States, Argentina and Canada (Rudas, 1974).

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Figure 7.2. Sardinian Community Abroad (on December 1971). Own Elaboration. Data Source: AIRE (Anagrafe degli Italiani Residenti all’Estero)

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to choose to move to Europe (suffice it to say that Europe absorbed about 93% of the entire Sardinian migration flow of the period). With the passing of time, Germany became more important than France as a destination, given that between 1959 and 1967 it received 47% of Sardinians, against 27.9% of other Italians. Qualitatively, the increasingly high socio-cultural level of migrants characterized the new migration. Whereas at the beginning of the post-war stage the migrants were mostly non-qualified workers who sought occupation in menial positions abroad, similar to the farm labourers of the first wave (Rudas, 1974), from the 1960s onwards the socio-cultural profile of migrants was higher, and with this came an upgrading in the kind of jobs they performed abroad.34 This rise in the professional level of migrants came about at the same time as an actual decrease in the need to expatriate. In fact, as was the case of other Italian migrants between 1973 and 1980, for the first time the numbers of those returning (Audenino, Tirabassi, 2008) exceeded those departing.35 This reversal of trend in migrant flows was not so much the result of the island’s development as the consequence of the crisis which struck all European and extra-European economies starting from 1972.36 The job opportunities abroad (especially for unskilled labour) decreased and at the same time new forms of mobility developed, characterized not by permanent uprooting and transfers but by “round-trip” or rotational migratory models, i.e. a period of residence (more or less extended) away from the island alternating with periods on the island. On the home front, a series of factors such as pensions, a longer period of schooling for young people, the seasonal jobs offered by tourism and the expansion of the tertiary sector alleviated over time a serious socio-economic situation, thus preventing the return to systematic mobility away from the island, as had occurred in the past (Gentileschi, 1995b).

The Present Compared to the past, the Sardinia of the new millennium appears to have formed closer ties to the rest of Italy, Europe and the world thanks to the advent of low-cost flights and the multiplication of flight routes. In 34

Cadoni, 1983. See Gentileschi, 1995b. Still, in this period, the ties between Sardinian emigration and the regional administration became tighter, as can be seen in Regional Law no. 36 of 19 August 1977, which set up the Regional Emigration Council. 36 Cadoni, 1983. 35

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addition, in the last ten years several programmes for student exchanges such as Erasmus, Globus and Master and Back37 have also created more opportunities for interaction between young Sardinians and other universities and/or fertile entrepreneurial environments in different parts of Italy and foreign countries. The “round-trip” or rotational migrations that began in the 1980s have continued to increase apace and have led to new forms of mobility being created and, with these, the very idea of “emigration” is changing. ISTAT data for Sardinia in the years from 2002 to 2013 show a positive migration balance for the entire period. The resident population rose from 1,630,847 in 2002 to 1,663,859 in 2013: since the natural balance (of birth and death rates) is negative,38 this means that more people are arriving in Sardinia than leaving it. In line with what took place starting from the second post-war period, the main migrant flows are to and from other Italian towns. Compared to the past, arrivals in Sardinia of Italians from other regions are practically identical to the departures: 376,899 registrations from other towns and 372,890 cancellations by those moving away to other Italian towns. Interestingly, there is a noteworthy divergence found in data on registrations and cancellations to and from foreign countries. In the same period, 54,590 people arrived in Sardinia from abroad against 19,602 who moved away. In the three-year period from 2010 to 201339 we have witnessed some notable changes in migratory behaviour at a national level, and Sardinia is in line with this trend. While 1972 is remembered as the year in which the flows entering Italy (returns and immigration) for the first time were larger than those leaving it, in the last three or four years, especially starting from 2011,40 there has been a resumption of migrations, in particular from the south, which once again is becoming the source of Italian migrations. In addition to the fall in the number of foreigners who registered as 37

http://www.regione.sardegna.it/masterandback/programma/. The natural balance remains negative; with figures that in the considered last two years represent a decrease of more than three thousand per year. In the decade considered, Sardinia had a negative balance while in the rest of southern Italy it only became negative starting from 2012. http://lnx.svimez.info/images/RAPPORTO/materiali2013/rapporto_2013_sintesi_st ampa.pdf. 39 http://www.tuttitalia.it/sardegna/statistiche/popolazione-andamento-demografico. 40 In 2011, the Italian citizens who moved abroad numbered about 50,000, 10,000 more compared to 2010 and decidedly on the increase compared to 2003, when they totalled 34,000. http://lnx.svimez.info/images/RAPPORTO/materiali2013/rapporto_2013_sintesi_st ampa.pdf. 38

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residents in Sardinia (from 5,945 in 2010 to 4,361 in 2013), there was also an increase in resident ‘cancellations’ of those going abroad (from 1,485 to 2,593). It is no wonder that these ISTAT data on the resumption of emigration caught the press’s attention in 2011, when the first alarms appeared. “The Exodus. Yesterday the backs, today the brains” was the headline that appeared in the September-October 2011 issue of Il Messaggero sardo, the periodical of the Sardinian Region dedicated to the world of migrations.41 The SVIMEZ (Association for Southern Italian Development) report of 2013 better clarifies the ISTAT data. The numbers in the report are decidedly more consistent, since they reveal that a number of young Sardinians left for other Italian towns. The report specifies that those who left the island between 2010 and 2011 numbered approximately 6,600, were aged between 18 and 34 and came mostly from the Sulcis and Nuoro regions. The typical destination remained northern Italy, especially Milan, while about 600 went abroad. On presenting the SVIMEZ report on southern Italy in general, the authoritative economic and finance newspaper ‘Il Sole 24 ore’ chose the disquieting headline: “Migration rates back to post-war times.”42 In reality, Italy continued to be a “split in two”43 country, with the centre-north attracting considerable flows from other regions44 and the south losing population due to the continuing crisis. In Sardinia, the “long-term” loss of population in the small towns of the interior areas and the well-known process of polarization towards the cities and the coasts are steadily continuing.45 The foreign country that attracts the highest number is Germany (28.6%), followed by France and 41

The feature article situated the problem not so much in connection with the absolute figures of the flows, but on the high professional profile of the migrants: they were mostly young people, as in the past, but with a consistently higher sociocultural profile. While between 1982 and 1986, those with diplomas represented 19% of the ones who left, between 1997 and 2002 the percentage had reached 35% (Puggioni, Zurru, 2008). 42 http://www.ilsole24ore.com/art/notizie/2013-10-17/rapporto-svimez-mai-cosidrammatico-emigrazione-torna-quella-dopoguerra153659.shtml?uuid=ABWFSKX. 43 http://lnx.svimez.info/images/RAPPORTO/materiali2013/rapporto_2013_sintesi _stampa.pdf. 44 The most attractive urban centres are Rome (+64,000), Milan (+53,000), Bologna (+30,000), Parma (+12,000), Florence (+11,000), Modena (+10,000), Reggio Emilia and Bergamo (+9,000). See Rapporto Svimez 2013. 45 ACLI, “Analisi dei flussi migratori e dello spopolamento in Sardegna nel 2010”, a debate held in Gesico, during the Festa dell’emigrato, 2010.

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Belgium with 23.7% and 12.4% respectively. Still in Europe, 7.9% of Sardinians move to Switzerland, 6.3% to the Netherlands, and the same percentage to the United Kingdom. Other more distant overseas countries have for the most part attracted relatively few: Argentina leads in this, but it is chosen by only 3.1% of Sardinian migrants; the United States receive 1.6%; and Australia is limited to 1.3%. Nevertheless, while Sardinian emigration in Europe is structural, in the last few years there have been significant increases among extra-European countries, especially Latin American ones such as Uruguay, Brazil, Chile and Argentina (all with an increase of 15% compared to 2008). We are no longer (or exclusively) dealing with a “brain drain”, that is, the mobility of individuals with a high socio-cultural profile, but with a phenomenon that is involving a growing number of people from various socio-economic backgrounds. It is difficult not to connect such a resumption of emigration to the economic crisis that continues to strangle Italy and which was set in motion by the shock wave of the 2008 crisis in the United States. Although it is impossible here to examine the several facets of the present international crisis in depth - which in its impact and duration has gone beyond the most pessimistic forecasts - we can say that in Sardinia the factors that avoided the systematic reappearance of emigration in the 1990s - the consistency of pensions, the strength of the tertiary sector, the improvements in young people’s education - have not withstood the impact of the crisis in the tertiary sector, the increase in inflation, the difficulty of finding a job and, above all, the worsening of unemployment connected to shutdown of the island’s few industrial facilities. In the last ten years, these shutdowns have caused the loss of over 40,000 jobs.

References Aru, Silvia. Lingue e territori in diaspora. Italiani a Vancouver. Pisa: Pacini, 2011. —. “Fare la Merica”. Storia d’emigrazione e racconti di vita dei sardi in Brasile (1896/2013). Cagliari: Aipsa Edizioni, forthcoming. Aru, Silvia and Valeria Deplano. “Oltre la frontiera non vi debbano essere che italiani’. La costruzione di emigrati e coloni durante il fascismo.” In Costruire una nazione. Politiche, discorsi e rappresentazioni che hanno fatto l’Italia, edited by Silvia Aru and Valeria Deplano, pp. 161181. Verona: Ombre Corte, 2013. Audenino, Patrizia and Maddalena Tirabassi. Migrazioni italiane. Storia e storie dall’Ancien régime a oggi, Milan: Mondadori, 2008.

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Cadoni, Bruno. “La ‘nuova’ emigrazione dal 1950 ad oggi.” In L’emigrazione sarda dall’Ottocento ad oggi. Contributo ad una storia della questione sarda, edited by Leopoldo Ortu and Bruno Cadoni, pp. 65- 114. Cagliari: Editrice Altair, 1983. Del Piano, Lorenzo. “Documenti sull’emigrazione sarda in Algeria nel 1843-1848.” In La Sardegna nel Risorgimento, Comitato sardo per il Centenario dell’Unità, pp. 223-39. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1962. —. La penetrazione italiana in Tunisia. Padova: Cedam, 1964. Esu, Aide. Essere poveri, sentirsi poveri. Le dimensioni della povertà in Sardegna, Cagliari: Aipsa Edizioni, 2009. Gentileschi, Maria Luisa. “Sardegna.” In Rientro degli emigrati e territorio. Risultati di inchieste regionali, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi and Riccarda Simoncelli, pp. 265-349. Naples: Istituto grafico italiano, 1983b. —. Sardegna emigrazione. Sassari: Edizioni della Torre, 1995a. —. “Rientro degli emigrati e territorio. I rientri degli anni Settanta.” In Sardegna emigrazione, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 37-138. Sassari: Edizioni della Torre, 1995b. —. “Il bilancio migratorio”, In Sardegna emigrazione, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 12-36. Sassari: Edizioni della Torre, 1995b. Krasna, Francesca. “‘Nuovi processi migratori in Italia: fuga di cervelli o circolazione di talenti?.” In Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme, pratiche, territori, edited by Silvia Aru, Andrea Corsale and Marcello Tanca, pp. 112-125. Cagliari: CUEC, 2013. Lo Monaco, Mario. “L’emigrazione dei contadini sardi in Brasile negli anni 1896-1897.” Rivista di storia dell’agricoltura, pp. 1-34, 1965. Merlet, Alberto. “L’immigrazione sarda in Brasile e in America Latina.” In Emigrazioni europee e popolo brasiliano, edited by Gianfranco Rosoli. Rome: CSER, 1987. Murgia, Carlo. “L’industria che provoca l’emigrazione: il caso della Sardegna.” In I rapporti della dipendenza. Ipotesi di ricerca, edited by Anna Deriu et al., pp. 63-80. Sassari: Libreria Dessì, 1976. Ortu, Leopoldo. “L’emigrazione in Sardegna dall’Ottocento al 1950.” In L’emigrazione sarda dall’Ottocento ad oggi. Contributo ad una storia della questione sarda, eds. Leopoldo Ortu, Bruno Cadoni, pp. 11- 61. Cagliari: Editrice Altair, 1983. —. La questione sarda tra Ottocento e Novecento. Aspetti e problemi. Cagliari: CUEC, 2005. Relazione dell’inchiesta sulle condizioni economiche e della sicurezza pubblica in Sardegna. Rome: Tipografia della Camera dei Deputati, 1896.

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Ortu, Leopoldo and Bruno Cadoni. L’emigrazione sarda dall’Ottocento ad oggi. Contributo ad una storia della questione sarda. Cagliari: Editrice Altair, 1983. Puggioni, Giuseppe and Marco Zurru. L’emigrazione sarda: alcune considerazioni e relativa documentazione statistica. Cagliari: typewritten, 2008. Rudas, Nereide. L’emigrazione sarda. Rome: Centro studi emigrazione, 1974. Sanni, Giuseppina. “L’emigrazione della Sardegna”, in ASEI. Archivio Storico dell’Emigrazione Italiana, November 27, 2006. Accessed May 13th, 2015. http://www.asei.eu/it/2006/11/lemigrazione-della-sardegna/. Zaccagnini, Margherita. “L’emigrazione sarda in Argentina all’inizio del Novecento. Popolazione e territorio attraverso una rassegna della stampa isolana.” In Sardegna emigrazione, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 140- 166. Sassari: Edizioni della Torre, 1995.

CHAPTER EIGHT THE FOREIGN PRESENCE IN SARDINIA MICHELE CARBONI AND MARISA FOIS

The history of Italy is also a history of mobility. Qualitatively, Italian migration has no equal among Western countries. Within a century, from 1876 (the year of the first statistical survey) to 1975, more than 27 million people left Italy – some million more than the whole country had in 1861 at the time of its unification (Bevilacqua, De Clementi, Franzina, 20012002). The internal movements are highly significant as well – from the countryside to the cities and from the south to the north of Italy – involving, between 1955 and 1970, around 25 million Italians (Crainz, 2005; Ricciardi, 2013). Only recently has immigration to Italy become significant. The first arrivals date back to the ‘70s, but it was during the ‘80s that Italy became a country of immigration (Pugliese, 2006). Although Italy – just like the other European countries, such as Spain, that historically had always been sources of emigration – had only been a land of transition at first, the foreign presence has kept on growing in recent years. In the 27-member European Union, at the beginning of 2012 – the latest data available – the percentage of foreigners in the EU was 6.8% of the total resident population. Italian data are similar to European data, a bit lower than that of Germany (9.1%) and the United Kingdom (7.6%), and higher than the French (5.9%) – three countries where immigration has had a longer history, and where, presumably, many previously foreign dwellers have acquired citizenship (ISTAT, 2014). In short, Italy, in a relatively short time, has become one of the greatest immigration countries in the EU (OECD, 2014; OIM, 2011). While in 1991 foreigners comprised only 0.6% of the total number of residents, on 1st January 2013 they exceeded 7%. Foreigners have more than tripled since 2001. Of the 59,685,227 residents in Italy, 4,387,721 (7.4%) have foreign citizenship (ISTAT, 2014). Immigrants and foreigners are not necessarily the same people: several

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foreigners who reside in Italy have never started any migration process. This is the case for the so-called second generation, that is, the increasingly numerous children of foreign parents (without Italian citizenship). Although born and residing in Italy, they are not entitled to Italian citizenship and are therefore foreigners (but they are not, clearly, immigrants). This paper analyses the characteristics of the foreign presence – preferring the term “foreigners” to the term “immigrants” – limiting itself to lawfully resident individuals (who indeed comprise the majority). The arrival of millions of foreigners has undeniably contributed to redefining the social, cultural, and economic profile of our peninsula (Aru, 2013a), partly because of their age – on average they are younger than Italians – and their greater readiness to move within the country (ISTAT, 2014; OIM, 2011; Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014). The foreign presence has become more and more solid and familiar. In 2012, either the bride or the groom was foreign in about the 15% of marriages celebrated in Italy. In the same year, 15% of the total number of newborn babies had two foreign parents. If babies who have at least one foreign parent are added to those 80,000 babies, the figure amounts to 20.1% of the national birth rate (ISTAT, 2013). Foreign residents are decisively contributing to the population growth of the country: without them, the population of Italy would be decreasing (ISTAT, 2013). The foreign presence is clearly relevant in the labour market as well. With immigration in Italy a comparatively recent phenomenon, firstgeneration immigrants who have come to the country in search of a job still prevail. Due to this reason and their age, the employment rate among immigrants is higher than among Italians (64.7% vs. 60.6%) – in contrast to the situation in countries where immigration has a longer and betterestablished history. The foreign workforce amounted to 10.6% of the total in 2012. The inactivity rate of the foreign population is more than eight percentage points lower than the Italians’, but the unemployment rate is higher (ISTAT, 2014; Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014). Similarly to the rest of the country, Sardinia has known immigration only recently. At the onset of the immigration phenomenon, the island was considered a land of transit, a leg towards other destinations. Immigrants were on the island only temporarily – as Bottazzi (2002), among others, remembered – was frequently noted, starting from the first surveys on immigration to the island (Bottazzi, Milani, Puggioni, 1988). In 2002 – when the number of foreigners was clearly lower than it is today – Bottazzi was already doubtful about this supposed temporariness, and he highlighted several foreign communities rooted on the island –

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communities that, even without high turnover rates, had already created “istituzioni sociali proprie” (“their own social institutions”) (Bottazzi, 2002, p. 13). In 1991, there were 7,253 foreigners in Sardinia, out of a total population of 1,646,771 – slightly more than 0.4%. Ten years later, the census recorded more than 10,700 foreigners – 0.7% of the total population. In 2013, with an almost identical number of residents, foreigners exceeded 35,600 individuals, 2.2% of total population. As is the case at the national level, immigration – together with the higher birth rate of resident foreigners – is the reason why the Sardinian population has not declined (Bottazzi, Puggioni, 2012; Corsale, 2013). The foreign presence is partly mitigating the consequences of population issues on the island, including the low birth rate and the “staggering” aging of the population (Frau, Gatti, 2002). The percentage increase of foreigners in Sardinia from 2001 to 2013 has been – if only slightly – higher than for Italy as a whole. In the most recent years, in fact, the number of foreigners has increased in Southern Italy, while historically they gathered most significantly in the Centralnorthern area of the country (ISTAT, 2014).

Distribution, origin, and composition of foreign population The distribution of the more that 4.3 million foreigners residing in Italy is decidedly non-homogeneous.1 On 1st January 2013, the majority of foreigners (61.8%) resided in the north of Italy: one-fourth (23.4%) of the total number of foreigners reside in Lombardy alone – a share that equals that of the number of foreigners who reside in the central regions. Just 14% of foreigners live in the south and in insular Italy. The percentage of foreigners out of the total number of residents (7.4% in the country as a whole) exceeds 10% in several provinces in the north and the south of the country. In the south, the total is around 3%; on the islands, it is 2.6%. In Sardinia, there are 35,610 foreigners (0.8% of the total in the country). In absolute terms, there are fewer foreigners in Molise, Valle d’Aosta, and Basilicata. The percentage of foreigners relative to the total population – 2.2% – is the lowest among the 20 Italian regions. In Sardinia as well, the distribution of foreigners on the territory is not homogeneous: almost 60% reside in two of the eight provinces. The 1

Unless otherwise specified, data quoted in this chapter are from the Italian National Institute of Statistics (ISTAT).

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Province of Cagliari alone has one-third (11,824 out of 35,610); that of Olbia-Tempio has over 8,600. In Olbia-Tempio, the number of foreign residents as a percentage of the total population is higher than on the rest of the island: 5.7%. This figure puts the Province of Olbia-Tempio among those with the highest foreign population in the south of Italy (after L’Aquila, Teramo, and Ragusa). Cagliari is the Sardinian city with the highest rate of foreign residents: on 1st January 2013, they numbered 5,230 (out of a total population of about 150,000 inhabitants). Olbia is the second town for foreigners, where they number 4,323, out of a population of 55,000 inhabitants, one-third the size of Cagliari. The number of foreigners as a percentage of the total number of residents is notably higher (around 8% in Olbia, 3.5% in Cagliari). The distribution of the foreign population follows similar trends as that of the autochthonous population. Sardinians – starting from the early 1960s – began to concentrate in the cities and along the coast (Gentileschi, 2007b), abandoning the internal areas, where depopulation has reached worrying levels (Bottazzi, Puggioni, 2012; cf. the contribution by Corsale in this volume). Foreigners tend to spread throughout the island, preferring, on the one hand, those centres where there are already other foreigners, hoping for better integration and socialisation possibilities, and on the other, coastal and urban areas, where the labour market offers more possibilities (Bottazzi, Puggioni, 2012). Though there are also foreigners in several small inland towns, the majority avoid inland areas, which Sardinians themselves tend to leave (Gentileschi, 2007b). The composition of the foreign population residing in Sardinia is similar to that of foreigners in Italy as a whole; 21% of foreigners residing in the country are Romanian (they number almost one million), followed by Albanians, Moroccans, Chinese, and Ukrainians. Though there are citizens from an extremely high number of nationalities in Italy (the 2011 census recorded 196 nationalities), these five groups represent more than 50% of the total number for foreign citizens. The composition has clearly changed in the course of time. At the beginning of the 1990s, newcomers came mostly from Africa. But that decade also saw the arrival of the first significant flows from Albania, and subsequently and more gradually from Eastern Europe, Romania, and Ukraine in primis. The number of immigrants from Asia and Latin America increased as well. Afterwards, the enlargement of the EU towards the east entailed – during the 2000s – an increase in arrivals from Eastern Europe, in particular from two new member states: Romania and Bulgaria (OECD, 2014).

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In Sardinia as well, the most significant group among foreigners is Romanians, 9,654 – 27% of the total number of foreigners, followed by Moroccans (3,884), Senegalese (2,793), Chinese (2,669), and Ukrainians (1.681). Individuals with these nationalities tend to comprise the greatest number of foreigners in all of the island’s eight provinces. There is one significant exception: Filipinos are second, after Romanians. Out of 1,452 Filipinos living on the island, 1,338 live in the Province of Cagliari (1,259 in the City of Cagliari). More than two-thirds of foreigners residing in Sardinia are non-EU citizens. The age and gender demographics of foreigners in Sardinia follow those of the rest of the country. At both the regional and national levels, foreigners have an average age that is lower than that of the autochthonous population (35.2 vs. 44.1). At the national level, women account for 53% of foreigners, while in Sardinia they exceed 57%. There are 15,286 men, and more than 20,000 women. The female rate is decisively higher in some groups: Among Ukrainians women number 1,458, while men number 223; the numbers among Romanians and Poles are also unbalanced (among Romanians, 6,547 women and 3,107 men; among Poles, 806 women and 162 men). At both the national and regional levels, the number of foreign women has increased because of both family reunification and the specific features of the labour market in both Italy and Sardinia (CARITAS-MIGRANTES, 2014). Migration in Italy shows tight sectorial and occupational segregation pertaining to both genders, but it is tighter for women. Half of immigrant women work in the domestic sector (OECD, 2014). The high demand for domestic help has been the main access point to the Italian labour market for a conspicuous number of foreign women, and it accounts for most of the gender unbalance, mainly in the case of Eastern European women – both in Italy and in Sardinia. There are around 2.4 million families that turn to domestic help in Italy, in particular to nurse the lonely or those who are not self-sufficient (Scialdone, 2014). Immigrant women comprise the large majority of these assistants (more than 80%, UNAR, 2014). In a country with known population issues – a low birth rate and a population that on average is becoming increasingly old – and with insufficient public services, this sector is not suffering from the crisis. This is why, in the last few years, foreign women – in contrast to men – have dealt with the effects of economic and occupational crises a lot better (CARITAS-MIGRANTES, 2014; Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014).

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Growing visibility As outlined above, the number of foreigners in Sardinia has increased since the 1990s. From a land of transit, the island, like the rest of the country, has turned into a land of settlement for an increasing number of foreigners. The increasing rooting of foreigners – or, if nothing else, their growing visibility – has been echoed by the increasing interest of scholars who have started to write on this phenomenon. Especially beginning in the 2000s, several research studies have appeared that deal with immigration in general (Zurru, 2002, 2007; Gentileschi, 2007a; Aru, Corsale, Tanca, 2013; Bachis, Pusceddu, 2013) and regarding specific nationalities (Dessì, 2002; Onnis, 2002, 2007; Atzori, 2007; Baldussi, 2007; Gentileschi, 2007c; Manduchi, 2007; Bachis, 2013; Guigoni, 2013; Meloni, 2013; Sias, 2013), or that analyse the phenomenon from other perspectives, including religion, gender, and employment (among others, Manduchi, 2002; Leone, Podda, 2004; Aru, 2013b; Contu, 2013). There is a low number of foreigners on the island compared to the rest of the country, but this difference is of no surprise, considering the economic conditions on the island – including the size (and limits) of the Sardinian market, the comparative backwardness of its manufacturing system, and the high unemployment rate (Bottazzi, 2002; Gentileschi, 2007b). In 2011, Sardinia had a GDP expressed in PPP of 77% of the EU28. In the European classification of wealth, it was 190th among 272 regions (CRENoS, 2014). The position of the island compared to Europe is growing worse, and its GDP keeps decreasing. Employment dropped from 613,000 jobs in 2007 to slightly more than 550,000 in 2013. During the same time frame, unemployment rose from around 7% to 17.5% (CRENoS, 2014). On these grounds, the island is not so attractive to foreigners. This consideration clearly emerges, for instance, in the most recent CNEL report on the indexes of integration of immigrants in Italy (CNEL, 2013). The report measures, among other things, the degree of attraction that the various territorial contexts (e.g. provinces, regions) have on the foreign population in Italy. Among the Italian regions, Sardinia is in 19th place, i.e. second-last. Nonetheless, the number of foreigners on the island has increased even in these years of economic crisis, and foreigners have become more visible and easily recognisable in certain contexts and sectors. The same CNEL report, however, when evaluating the potential for integration, placed

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Sardinia seventh out of the eight Italian regions. In fact, the island perfectly fits the Italian “model” of integration: smaller and less complex contexts from a social point of view facilitate the foreigners’ integration. In the ranking of regions for 2011 in terms of how easy they made integration for foreigners, Sardinia unexpectedly came sixth (CNEL, 2013). Though fragmented and not always able to describe the migratory phenomenon in all its complexity, the available data give an idea of foreigners’ – increasing – role in the Sardinian labour market. At a national level, foreigners comprised 10.5% of the workforce in 2013; it was 6.5% in 2007. In some sectors, foreigners have become essential in Italy: in construction, almost 20% of the workforce is foreign (more than 30% in Latium and Umbria); in agriculture, it is 13% (30% in Latium, and more than 20% in Lombardy, Tuscany, and Umbria) (Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014). In Sardinia, too, foreigners contributing to the labour market are increasing and becoming more and more relevant: foreigners increased from 1.5% of the total workforce in 2007 to 4.5% in 2013. On the island, the percentage of foreigners is higher in trade (6.6%) and services (5%) (Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014). There were 7,252 relations between employers and non-EU foreign employees in Sardinia in 2012. The most significant share – more than 40% – was in the domestic sector (families and cohabitation). The second was the hospitality and restoration sector one (about one quarter) (Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali, 2014). Another interesting aspect is connected to business undertakings. The only data available relate to businesses registered with the Italian Chambers of Commerce, where the only distinction made is between those who were born abroad and those who were born in Italy, a measure that excludes foreign traders who were born in Italy, while including Italians born abroad and migrants who have acquired Italian citizenship. In 2013, there were about 500,000 businesses registered with Chambers of Commerce in Italy that were run by individuals who were born abroad, including 9,166 in Sardinia (1.8% of the total). On the island, there are 158,589 businesses run by people who were born in Italy; therefore, out of a total number of 167,000 businesses, those run by people who were born abroad comprise more than 5.5% of the total (UNAR, 2014). The number of foreigners – at both the national and regional levels – is

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increasing, and their rooting has effects that are not limited to the economy. As already mentioned above, immigration is contributing positively to the demographic situation of our country. The higher birth rate among foreign women, for instance, compensates for the much lower rate among Italian women. The fertility rate among Italian women (i.e. the average number of children per fertile woman) is 1.29; that of foreign women is 2.37 (the total rate is 1.4). This is rather important for Sardinia. The total fertility rate on the island has been among the lowest in Italy for years. In 2012 it was the lowest, 1.14. The rate among Sardinian women was just 0.9, partially balanced by that of foreign women residing on the island, which was more than double the native rate (2.52) (UNAR, 2014). In 2013, 11,872 children were born on the island: more than 3.6% are foreign. The presence of foreigners is becoming visible even in the island’s schools, though to a lesser extent than in the rest of the country. Out of a total population of more than 8.9 million students in the 2013/2014 school years, students with non-Italian citizenship numbered more than 800,000, i.e. 9% of the total. In the same year, in Sardinia foreigners comprised 2.2% of the total number of students. Almost one-third of these foreign students attending school in Sardinia were born in Italy. Among children attending nursery schools in Sardinia, foreign children who were born in Italy accounted for 70% of the total, which reveals the increasing number of foreign families that have their children in the host country (UNAR, 2014).

High-hurdle rootedness Nowadays, immigration to the island can be considered a structural phenomenon despite not only the economic situation, but also the delays and political gaps (not just national ones). The issue that remains unsolved – probably the most significant, but certainly not the only one – relates to citizenship. The existing law is still clearly restrictive and anchored in ius sanguinis. Although debate on this issue cannot be said to be absent, no concrete political changes have occurred yet. Particularly significant is the position of the second generation, as mentioned in the introduction, for whom acquiring citizenship is anything but easy (UNAR, 2014; CARITAS-MIGRANTES, 2014). The slow speed at which politics is (not) dealing with the various issues related to the conditions of foreigners in Italy is even ghastlier if compared to their contribution – even if we consider only their economic contribution – to the country. In some sectors, foreigners have become essential, and no preferential

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treatment is given to them in return for their commitment. Foreigners are over-represented in deskilled manual labour, and surely not for a lack of expertise. In 2013, more than 40% of foreign workers were over-educated, i.e. they had a level of education higher than the one required by their job; 20% of working Italians find themselves in the same situation. The discrepancy is even higher among foreign women, because on the average they are more educated than foreign men, and because they are confined to low-skill sectors. 55% of immigrant women working in the domestic sector are over-educated. The consequence of these disadvantageous working conditions is a lower net income among foreigners – 27% lower than that of Italians – and the gap is increasing. In 2013, foreign women earned 30% less than Italian women, and 28.6% less than foreign men (UNAR, 2014). This double discrimination faced by foreign women is more broadly affected by the national context, where gender equality still remains far off: Italy is among the countries with the highest gender-based wage inequality in the world. In 2014, the World Economic Forum placed Italy 129th out of 142 countries (WEF, 2014). Beyond matters concerning Italy as a whole, on the regional level, too, politics should try to be more incisive. As has been highlighted effectively by Bottazzi and Puggioni (2012) among others, in Sardinia there is an evident need for policies aimed at finding effective solutions to the island’s critical demographic situation, and the foreign presence could be a significant part of that solution. That being said, the manifest worsening of living conditions in Italy impacts the future of both foreigners – and therefore their increase as well as their rootedness – and locals. As the last Svimez (2014) report worryingly pointed out, the south of Italy is at risk of human and industrial desertification. The crisis in the country as a whole – which is dramatically deeper – is also revealed by the significant revival of internal mobility (from the south to the north of Italy) and emigration. On 1st January 2014, more than 100,000 Sardinians resided abroad (MIGRANTES, 2014), and the number of Sardinians leaving the island in recent years has started to increase again (cf. the contribution by Aru in this same volume).

References Aru, Silvia. “Emigrare. I molti chi, dove, come e quando delle mobilità.” In Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme, pratiche, territori, edited by Silvia Aru, Andrea Corsale, and Marcello Tanca, pp.

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101-109. Cagliari: CUEC Editrice, 2013. — . “Il cammino di domestiche e “badanti”. Mobilità e questioni di genere.” RiMe 10, pp. 183-212, 2013. Aru, Silvia, Andrea Corsale, and Marcello Tanca. Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme, pratiche, territori. Cagliari: CUEC Editrice, 2013. Atzori, Alessandra. “L’immigrazione e l’imprenditoria cinese in Sardegna: i casi di Cagliari e Sassari.” In Etnie in transito. Vecchie e nuove migrazioni in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 333-365. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007. Bachis, Francesco. “Buoni per vivere, buoni per vendere. Commercio ambulante e migranti dal Marocco nella Sardegna centrale”. In Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme, pratiche, territori, edited by Silvia Aru, Andrea Corsale, and Marcello Tanca, pp. 239248. Cagliari: CUEC Editrice, 2013. Bachis, Francesco and Antonio Maria Pusceddu. Storie di questo mondo. Percorsi di etnografia delle migrazioni. Rome: CISU, 2013. Baldussi, Anna Maria. “Asia Mobile. Luoghi e percorsi di dinamiche migratorie.” In Etnie in transito. Vecchie e nuove migrazioni in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 145-296. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007. Bevilacqua, Piero, Andreina De Clementi, and Emilio Franzina. Storia dell’emigrazione italiana. Rome: Donzelli, 2001-2002. Bottazzi, Gianfranco. “Introduzione.” In Chi viene e chi va. Immigrati in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 9-15. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2002. Bottazzi, Gianfranco, Lucetta Milani, and Giuseppe Puggioni. “La presenza straniera in Sardegna.” Studi emigrazione XXV 91-92, pp. 407-415, 1988. Bottazzi, Gianfranco, and Giuseppe Puggioni. “Lo spopolamento in Sardegna come tendenza di lungo periodo.” In Dinamiche demografiche in Sardegna: tra passato e futuro, edited by Marco Breschi, pp- 73-96. Udine: Forum, 2012. CARITAS-MIGRANTES. XXIII Rapporto Immigrazione 2013, Tra crisi e diritti umani. Todi (PG): Tau Editrice Srl, 2014. Contu, Sergio. “Pastori per procura. Nascita di una nicchia migratoria.” In Storie di questo mondo. Percorsi di etnografia delle migrazioni, edited by Francesco Bachis and Antonio Maria Pusceddu, pp. 179-196. Rome: CISU, 2013. Corsale, Andrea (2013). “Le dinamiche migratorie in Sardegna. Attori, reti e territori.” In Percorsi migratori della contemporaneità. Forme,

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pratiche, territori, edited by Silvia Aru, Andrea Corsale, and Marcello Tanca, pp. 227-231. Cagliari: CUEC Editrice, 2013. CNEL. Indici di integrazione degli immigrati in Italia, IX Rapporto. Rome: Consiglio Nazionale dell’Economia e del Lavoro, 2013. Crainz, Guido. Storia del miracolo italiano: culture, identità, trasformazioni fra anni Cinquanta e Sessanta. Rome: Donzelli, 2005. CRENoS. Economia della Sardegna, 21° Rapporto. Cagliari: CUEC, 2014. Dessì, Sebastiano. “La Muridiyya nell’emigrazione senegalese all’estero: descrizione di una confraternita musulmana fra religione, economia e politica.” In Chi viene e chi va. Immigrati in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 177-213. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2002. Frau, Angela Sabina, and Anna Maria Gatti (2002). “Tendenze demografiche recenti in Sardegna.” Quaderni del Dipartimento di Ricerche Economiche e Sociali, Sez. Statistica. Cagliari: Università degli Studi. Gentileschi, Maria Luisa. Geografie dell’immigrazione. Stranieri in Sardegna. Bologna: Pàtron Editore, 2007. —. “Sardegna, terra d’immigrazione nella quale non è facile mettere radici.” In Geografie dell’immigrazione. Stranieri in Sardegna, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 15-33. Bologna: Pàtron Editore, 2007. —. “Le imprese cinesi nella provincia di Cagliari. Il modello dinamico.” In Geografie dell’immigrazione. Stranieri in Sardegna, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 51-67. Bologna: Pàtron Editore, 2007. Guigoni, Alessandra. ““Paesaggi del cibo” indiani a Cagliari: la comunità sikh e il Langar del Gurdwara di Villanova.” In Storie di questo mondo. Percorsi di etnografia delle migrazioni, edited by Francesco Bachis and Antonio Maria Pusceddu, pp. 241-261. Rome: CISU, 2013. ISTAT (2013). “La popolazione straniera residente in Italia - bilancio demografico.” Istituto nazionale di statistica, July 26th, 2013. http://www.istat.it/it/ —. “Noi Italia. 100 statistiche per capire il Paese in cui viviamo.” Istituto nazionale di statistica, 2014. http://www.istat.it/it/archivio/111872 Leone, Anna and Fabiola Podda. “Un possibile approccio alle problematiche di genere. Il caso delle donne immigrate non comunitarie in Sardegna.” In Geografie e storie di donne. Spazi della cultura e del lavoro, edited by Maria Luisa Gentileschi, pp. 19-30. Cagliari: CUEC, 2004. Manduchi, Patrizia. “L’Islam in Sardegna. Problemi e prospettive.” In Chi viene e chi va. Immigrati in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, 119– 166. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2002. —. “Marocchini in Sardegna: il lungo percorso di un’integrazione

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possibile.” In Etnie in transito. Vecchie e nuove migrazioni in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 61-86. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007. Meloni, Rosa Maria. “Vivere in transito. La mobilità pendolare nel lavoro di cura delle migranti romene nel nord Sardegna.” In Storie di questo mondo. Percorsi di etnografia delle migrazioni, edited by Francesco Bachis and Antonio Maria Pusceddu, pp. 197-217. Rome: CISU, 2013. MIGRANTES (2014). Rapporto Italiani nel Mondo 2014. Todi (PG): Tau Editrice Srl, 2014. Ministero del Lavoro e delle Politiche Sociali. Quarto rapporto annuale. Gli immigrati nel mercato del lavoro in Italia. Rome, 2014. Accessed April 30, 2015. http://www.lavoro.gov.it/Notizie/Documents/IV%20Rapporto%20annu ale%20MdL%20immigrati%202014.pdf OECD. Lavoro per gli immigrati: L’integrazione nel mercato del lavoro in Italia. OECD Publishing, 2014. Accessed April 30, 2015. http://dx.doi.org/10.1787/9789264216570-it OIM. Le migrazioni in Italia. Scenario attuale e prospettive. Rome: Edizioni Idos, 2011. Accessed April 30th, 2015. http://www.dossierimmigrazione.it/docnews/file/2012_OIM_19512011_IT.pdf Onnis, Barbara. “La comunità cinese in Sardegna: il caso di Cagliari.” In Chi viene e chi va. Immigrati in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 215-250. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2002. —. “I hauren a Cagliari. Profilo di una comunità in crescita.” In Etnie in transito. Vecchie e nuove migrazioni in Sardegna, edited by Marco Zurru, pp. 297–332. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007. Pugliese, Enrico. L’Italia tra migrazioni internazionali e migrazioni interne. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2006. Ricciardi, Toni. Associazionismo ed emigrazione: storia delle colonie libere e degli Italiani in Svizzera. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 2013. Scialdone, Antonio. “Manovre di ripiegamento. Deprivazione e capacità adattive dei migranti al tempo della recessione.” In XXIII Rapporto Immigrazione 2013, Tra crisi e diritti umani, CARITASMIGRANTES, pp. 125-139. Todi (PG): Tau Editrice Srl, 2014. Sias, Claudia. “Un’etnografia mobile. Immigrazione albanese in Sardegna tra instabilità e pendolarità.” In Storie di questo mondo. Percorsi di etnografia delle migrazioni, edited by Francesco Bachis and Antonio Maria Pusceddu, pp. 219-240. Rome: CISU, 2013. Svimez. Rapporto Svimez 2014 sull’economia del Mezzogiorno. Associazione per lo sviluppo dell’industria nel Mezzogiorno, 2014.

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Accessed April 30th, 2015. http://www.svimez.info/images/RAPPORTO/materiali2014/2014_10_2 8_sintesi.pdf UNAR. Dossier Statistico Immigrazione 2014. Rome: Idos, 2014. WEF. The Global Gender Gap Report. World Economic Forum, 2014. Accessed April 30th, 2015. http://www3.weforum.org/docs/GGGR14/GGGR_CompleteReport_20 14.pdf Zurru, Marco. Chi viene e chi va. Immigrati in Sardegna. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2002. —. Etnie in transito. Vecchie e nuove migrazioni in Sardegna. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2007.

CHAPTER NINE SOCIOLINGUISTIC PROFILE OF THE LANGUAGE SITUATION IN SARDINIA MARIA ANTONIETTA MARONGIU

The language situation in Sardinia Sardinia hosts the largest cultural and linguistic minority in Italy. This community is internally heterogeneous and coexists with other smaller language communities now officially recognized as minorities. The linguistic map of Sardinia shows the geographic distribution of the varieties of Sardinian and of the minority dialects or varieties of alien origin in contact with Sardinian (Figure 9.1). An analysis of the Sardinian language situation needs to take into account the homogeneous distribution of the regional variety of Italian throughout the region, coexisting with different dialects and varieties of the Sardinian language diatopically distributed. The two major varieties of Sardinian, Campidanese and Logudorese, are used, respectively, in the south of the island, and in the central and northern regions, although not in the extreme north. Logudorese may be also classified as divided into Common Logudorese, northern Logudorese, Nuorese, and Barbaricino. A border variety, intermediate between Logudorese and Campidanese, is also identified in the Ogliastrino, spoken in the central-western region called Ogliastra. Other border dialects not necessarily named (or possibly recognized) as such, are to be recorded in the belt area connecting the two major varieties of Sardinian (cf. Figure 9.1). The other varieties spoken in Sardinia are of alien origin, developed after the immigration and settlement of small communities in different areas of the island and in different historical periods. They are: Sassarese, a dialect of Ligurian origin, an Italian dialect family, originally developed on Logudorese substrata, spoken in the area surrounding the town of Sassari and in a few smaller towns geographically close to Sassari, in the north; Gallurese, a

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dialect of Corsican origin, developed on Logudorese substrata, spoken in the mountain region called Gallura, in the northeast of Sardinia; Catalan, a dialect of Catalan origin developed on Logudorese substrata spoken in the town of Alghero, on the northwest coast of the island; Tabarchino, another dialect of Genoese origin (of the Ligurian dialect family like Sassarese), spoken on the islands of Saint Peter and Saint Antioch, next to the extreme southwest of Sardinia, where a small community of refugees originally from Pegli, near Genoa, found their home after fleeing from the Mediterranean island of Tabarka, close to the Tunisian coast. In order to interpret the present sociolinguistic features of language use in Sardinia, and to make hypotheses about its future patterns of development, it is fundamental to learn about the social history of its language community as well as about its speakers (Thomason and Kaufman, 1988). Accordingly, what follows is a historical excursus of the major events that contributed to the language changes and variations in Sardinia.

The diachronic perspective Sardinia’s long history of external invasions, of century-long dominations, of bloody repressions, and of generalized lack of education accustomed its people to resignation. Besides, the geographical isolation of certain regions of the island and the presence of different ethnic and cultural groups hardly communicating with each other for centuries, did not encourage Sardinians to feel like a nation, as had happened, for instance, to the Corsicans, or to the Basques. The marginalization of the island’s indigenous cultures, and of their language systems, made Sardinian peoples a ‘dispossessed minority’ within a European state (Romaine, 1989). The history of the Sardinian language is tightly connected to the history of the numerous invasions of the island. Sardinian tells the story of a constant dialectic exchange among autochthonous conservative energies and innovative external energies. In spite of forced contacts with incoming external cultures throughout the centuries, the people of this island have always been a well-defined ethnic group, and have always kept a distinct identity. Structurally, Sardinian is considered the most archaic of the Romance languages (Contini & Tuttle, 1982; Blasco Ferrer, 1989). In fact, it went through long periods of relative isolation throughout the centuries. However, its linguistic conservation varies in degree depending on the island’s geographic physiognomy and on external linguistic influences in the different regions.

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Since the 19th century, Indo-European classical linguists and Romance linguists have investigated the substrata of the Sardinian language and its Mediterranean affiliations (Bellieni, 1928; Contini & Tuttle, 1982; Paulis, 1977, 1996; Wagner, 1950). Elements of Pre-Indo-European/Mediterranean origin related to the idioms spoken by the most ancient Sardinian populations were isolated in sections of the Sardinian lexicon (Tagliavini, 1969). The most credited hypothesis among archaeologists and anthropologists argues that in the Neolithic age the island was occupied, at least in its southern regions, by North African populations, possibly from Libya (Dettori, 2002; Pais, 1881 and 1911; Philipp, 1920; Philipson, 1992; Sergi and Von Duhn in Wagner, [1950] 1997; Silvestri, 1995). Their linguistic traces seem to be left in the toponyms and in the underlying structure of some sectors of the Sardinian lexicon (Putzu, 2001). The conquest of Sardinia by the Romans, during the second Punic war (238 BC), radically changed its social and economic structure as well as the patterns of language use since the Romans imposed their language, Latin, in all public contexts, and in economic affairs. The linguistic signs of Romanization are stronger in the most easily accessible coastal areas, where the port towns of Cagliari, Olbia and Porto Torres were founded and developed, and in the areas where they built an efficient road system to connect these three major towns of the island. After the year 827 AD, when the Byzantine Empire lost Sicily, Sardinia was practically left to itself, independent from Byzantium, although it remained officially one of its provinces until the beginning of the IX century, and Byzantine currency was used until the XI century (Blasco Ferrer, 1984; Wagner, [1950] 1997). In no other time of Sardinian history, was the indigenous language, which became independent from Latin, so heavily used in its written form. The legislative documents that survive from that time (the Carta de Logu of the Jusgado of Arborea is the most relevant one) testify of the strong drive toward codification in Sardinian, probably because of the high status that the local idioms had acquired with the Jusgados. They must have been productive language systems that could work as well as supra-area codes. The written documents available also testify to the development of regional differences in Sardinian language production of the time, corresponding to three major dialectal lines of development: Logudorese, Campidanese, and Arborense (Dettori, 2002). The language diversification is probably also the result of the contact of each Jusgadu with different overarching cultural and linguistic systems. The process of alienation of the Sardinian language from Latin took place at a slow pace, over a number of centuries. However, the arrival

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of different varieties of Vulgar Italian, the great diffusion of documents and texts written in these varieties, and especially the intervention of the powerful Republics of Genoa and Pisa in the XI century, brought innovations into the social as well as into the linguistic systems of Sardinia, creating the conditions for diversification among the varieties of Sardinian. When the Catalans first arrived in Alghero (XI century), they took control of the town, exiled the local population and substituted it with a newly arrived colony from Catalonia (Sanna, 1975, 1979). The Catalan dialect introduced then survived, and a dialect of Catalan is still used in the town, although presently in diglossic competition with Italian. When they occupied the island, the Catalans forced the introduction of the feudal system, which replaced the collective use of the land, adopted with the jusgados. They also imposed the proscription of the Sardinian population from the public administration, and the use of Catalan in the administration. These factors must have created a climate of hostility against the external authorities, which probably favoured the protection and the maintenance of Sardinian traditions, culture, and language throughout the island (Sole, 1988). The Castilian administration (14791714) did not bring any positive innovations into the economy or the administration of Sardinia, which remained a land of rough exploitation. In spite of the fact that its penetration in the island was extremely slow, the Castilian language left deep signs in the structure of the local idioms. The first documents in Castilian were dated 1602, yet this language was used by the Clergy, at school and in the administrative documents until the end of the 19th century (Tagliavini, 1969; Contini & Tuttle, 1982; Blasco Ferrer, 1984; Porru, 1991). The influence of Hiberic languages on one hand, and of the Genoese and Tuscan dialects on the other hand, had already favoured diversification between the main varieties of Sardinian by the 16th century: Nuorese-Barbaricino, spoken in the east-central region, Campidanese in the south, Sassarese and Gallurese respectively in the northwest and in the northeast, Logudorese in the western-central region, Catalan in Alghero, and Arborense in the south-central area, around the town of Oristano. No real improvement came to the Sardinian populations from the shift of power that occurred in 1718, when the island became part of the “Sardo-Piedmontese” kingdom (Blasco Ferrer, 1984; Contini & Tuttle, 1982). Rather, the political and economic situation of the island between the end of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th centuries brought about a

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climate of social and cultural unrest (e.g. the Enclosures Act in 1820) and favoured poetry of realistic, satiric, and nationalistic tones, written especially in the Logudorese and in the Gallurese varieties. Four centuries of Hispanic colonization had deeply rooted the Hispanic culture in Sardinia, especially in the urban areas and among the most educated. Schooling had particularly managed to alienate Sardinians from the culture of the Italian peninsula, as Castilian was the official language and the language of instruction at school (Dettori, 1998). The difficulty of administering an island linguistically alien to those who ruled it convinced the Sovereignty of Savoy to implement a language policy intended to promote the extensive use of Italian (1750). In 1759, its use became compulsory in public administration and at school. According to the reform, Castilian was considered a foreign language to study as a school subject, and the use of the local idiom at school was encouraged, as long as it was adopted as a means of instruction to teach Italian. The unification of Italy under the House of Savoy, in 1861, did not change the economic and social situation in Sardinia. The rural world remained in a state of oppression, and the rising middle class persisted in its lack of solidarity with the struggling lower classes (Blasco Ferrer, 1984). The social divisions were stigmatized in the patterns of language use. In general, the middle and upper classes, including the important and ancient families and the land-owners, used Sardinian as the regular means of communication, but could also speak Castilian, or rather Italian by then. The population gradually moving to Sardinia from the Savoy Reign, mainly the new local administrators, and those engaged in commerce, had to learn Sardinian to be able to communicate with the Sardinian population. Italian was initially used mainly for administrative purposes. The new executives’ need to communicate with the locals encouraged the creation of a school system through the Catholic Church that would teach Italian to the local middle class.

The 20th century and the present The beginning of the 20th century, apart from the application of Gentile’s School Reform (Law n. 3126 of 1923) during the first Mussolini government, did not bring any improvement to the socio-cultural conditions and educational standards of the Sardinian population. However, the gradual increase of school attendance on the part of the Sardinian children favoured the systematic spread of Italian and of language attitudes that considered Sardinian as a low variety or a vernacular. In a process of cultural disintegration such as the one the

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Sardinian society was undergoing, the Sardinian heritage language remained associated with ancient rural society and values. In certain regions of the island, Sardinian remained relegated to folklore-related events only. Article n. 6 of the Constitution of the Italian Republic, implemented in 1948, granted ad-hoc maintenance norms for the protection of the historical minority languages spoken in the Italian territory. Yet, this constitutional right was not applied to the Sardinian case, since the idioms spoken in the island were considered dialects of the national language. While the trend of a language shift was first recorded in the 1970s in the larger urban communities (Dettori, 1979), between the end of the 1970s and the beginning of the 1980s (Sole, 1981, 1990) the shift was already recorded in some rural communities. The heritage varieties of Sardinian must have lost their value as identity markers, to the point that being Sardinian did not mean speaking the Sardinian language any more. Yet, Sardinians are still perceived, and still perceive themselves as a distinct ethnic group, therefore their ethnic identity must have been reconstructed on the basis of a system of values that does not give the heritage language a central role. Nonetheless, as soon as the threat of losing the heritage language reached the region’s awareness, the survival of the heritage language was raised and debated. In the last few decades, minority language-related issues have been the topic of intellectual speculations and cultural and political discussions involving the local institutions and the mass media. What was viewed as an essential requirement for the language maintenance to take place at the beginning of the 1990s (Nivola, 1992) began to occur only at the end of that decade. As a matter of fact, a renewed interest in the heritage language as a marker of identity for Sardinians, and the shift of the institution’s attitudes in favour of the recognition of a language dignity to Sardinian, must have induced some changes in the people’s attitude to the language. Yet, reversing the deeply rooted trend that stigmatized Sardinian as a dialect, and therefore as the language of the non-educated and of the elderly, was a great challenge, and there is still a question whether this change in language attitudes really occurred at grass-root’s level. Unfortunately, the features that make Sardinians a minority do not favour the maintenance of the heritage language varieties. Sardinia remains among the poorest regions in Italy. Actually, the traditional socioeconomic system of the island strictly tied to its ancient ethnic and ethic system, collapsed, especially because of the great changes that the local economic system was forced to undertake in the recent decades. In a strongly rural society where in 1951 56.5% of its working units were

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employed in agriculture, 12.9% in the industry, 4.6% in constructions, 15% in the viable services, and 11% in services of other types, external and internal political pressures induced radical changes within a few decades. By 1993, the rate of work forces employed in agriculture had gone down to 12.8%, while it had risen to 9.7% in the constructions, to 41% in the viable services, and to 24.4% in the services of other types (Paci, 1997). Once the rural network was broken down, the Sardinian traditional ethnic and ethical values were radically challenged and viewed as unfit for the upcoming social system. The heritage varieties spoken in Sardinia were granted minority language status by the European Union in 1993, and by the Italian institutions in 1999, with National Law n. 482. Regional Law n. 26 in 1997 had gone so far as to recognize the status of historical minority to the Sardinian community, in application of Article n. 6 of the Italian Constitution, and the right of Sardinians to use their language for institutional purposes as well as Italian. From a language-planning point of view, the change in status of Sardinian triggered a positive change in language attitudes among Sardinians, at least in some sectors of Sardinian society. It fostered a cultural debate on the issue among intellectuals and in the academia. Folk and cultural productions in the heritage varieties, such as poetry or theatre plays and TV shows, found some support during recent decades. Several school projects aiming at teaching the local Sardinian variety were financed throughout the island. It may be too early to say whether the institutional stance in favour of the linguistic minorities in Italy has determined or favoured a general revitalization of the use of dialects or heritage varieties, yet, recent investigations in different minority areas of the Italian peninsula have recorded an increased use of the minority variety by the youth. The European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages of 1992, implemented by the Italian government in 2000, once approved by the two branches of the Italian Parliament, should have promoted status planning interventions aiming to favour the maintenance of the historical minority languages in Italy. For the heritage languages used in Sardinia this would have meant the opening of a series of interventions precluded so far, from education in the minority language at all school levels, when requested, to teacher training and qualifying courses for the teaching of the minority language and of its culture and history; from the training of officers and employees in the minority language, to make them capable of operating with that language in their work place, to the use of toponyms, street signs, and warning signs in the minority language; from the introduction of broadcasting in both languages to printed media in the minority language.

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In the case of Sardinian and of the other heritage idioms to which the status of historical minority languages was recognized in Sardinia, as well as their right to be used in official instances, much of the institutional effort was spent on actions of corpus planning. A first attempt to normalize Sardinian was made by an academic commission appointed for two years by the Regional Council of Education. In 2001 this commission proposed an artificial system of linguistic (orthographic, phonetic, morphological and lexical) norms, a variety of Sardinian developed to be used in written production, for official and formal purposes. This artificially elaborated variety of Sardinian, called “Limba Sarda Unificada” (or LSU, in English: Unified Sardinian Language), was the outcome of the blending of the two major varieties. It was based on the Logudorese morpho-syntactic structure with the Campidanese lexicon. However, the criticism the LSU raised in public discouraged the political authorities from using it. In fact, the main criticism against the corpus planning enterprise was that the LSU was an artificial system imposed on Sardinian speakers, and that it did not offer any solution to the dispute on the relationship between the two major varieties of Sardinian, Logudorese and Campidanese. A new academic commission was appointed in 2005. In 2006 this presented a new referential model of official Sardinian, to be used for writing purposes, called “Limba Sarda Comuna“ (or LSC, in English: Common Sardinian Language). This variety is still based on a Logudorese foundation and, partly, on the Campidanese lexicon and morphology, yet it is modelled after a local variety used in the transition region between Logudorese and Campidanese. With LSC a unifying phonological system was introduced for Sardinian. From a corpus planning perspective, this step is even more important than the identification of a variety to be used in formal documents, as the LSC was meant to be. As a matter of fact, the LSC was officially adopted with Regional Bill n. 16/14 of 2006, and its use is recommended in the written documents and acts produced by the Administrative system at all levels in Sardinia. The bill also mandated the institution of a regional “Office of the Sardinian Language” (Ufitziu de sa Limba Sarda) in charge of monitoring LSC use in local institutions and the use of local varieties in the written documents addressed to the regional institutions. In the meantime, while UNESCO listed Sardinian among the vanishing languages of the world, Regional Law n. 26/97 allowed the introduction of bilingual programmes in the public school system at a regional level, with Sardinian being offered as a school subject and as a means of instruction. Parents with a passive competence in it may be in favour of their children learning Sardinian. In this context, it may not be too ambitious to think

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that the maintenance of the local language and culture may contribute to promoting intellectual development, academic achievement, successful learning, and cultural tolerance. However, in order to support the idea that bilingual education would be a relevant contribution to the Sardinian cultural and social life, a number of questions need to be answered. One of them regards the type of programme for bilingual education that can best suit the specific needs of the Sardinian situation. This issue opens an avenue for future investigations based on a thorough analysis of the present sociolinguistic situation in Sardinia.

Sociolinguistic profile of the present language situation in Sardinia From a political point of view, Sardinia has represented a case of ‘internal colonialism’ for a long time (Romaine, 1995), with the language and the culture of its minority people being marginalized. In fact, the Sardinian language system was considered the language of a lower social prestige and of a rural ancient culture. The present language situation in Sardinia is heterogeneous, greatly depending on extra-linguistic variables. It may be described as a language contact situation characterized by: (a) unstable bilingualism and unsteady diglossia between Italian and Sardinian in the rural areas, with the indigenous language receding in every domain of use; (b) language shift giving way to the loss of the Sardinian idiom and to monolingualism in Italian among the youngest population in the most urbanized areas; and (c) diglossia in Italian, with standard Italian being the High variety and Regional Italian (Italiano Regionale Sardo or IRS in Loi Corvetto, 1983) being the Low variety; or (d) dilalia between regional Italian and common Italian in the repertoire of the educated speakers. In order to interpret the present language situation and to make hypotheses about its future patterns of development, it is relevant to learn about the social context in which the languages of interest are embedded. In the analysis of languages in contact, both the history of the language and sociolinguistic information regarding its speakers and their language community have to be constantly recalled. A distinction needs to be made here between Standard Italian, the national variety, which is mostly normalized because it is used for writing, and the regional variety of Italian (hereafter IRS or Italiano Regionale Sardo) (Loi Corvetto, 1979, 1983, 1993; Lavinio, 2002), characterized by contact features from Sardinian. With the research she conducted in the 1970s, Loi Corvetto (1979) investigated the use of Sardinian and Italian in

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the main linguistic communities in Sardinia, involving about two hundred families in each of the four communities. Her data indicated that in all communities the great majority of her language consultants (LCs) were successive bilinguals, that Italian and the local idiom were used in diglossic distribution in Campidano, while they were equally used in all domains (in dilalia) in Gallura, in Logudoro, and in the Sassarese areas, as long as the interlocutor belonged to the same linguistic community. According to her LCs, only in Campidano was Sardinian considered as the low variety compared to Italian, and it would not be chosen in contexts where its use could trigger social judgment, such as in the work environment. Since the main varieties of Sardinian (Logudorese and Campidanese) share the same underlying structure, it can be reasonably assumed that they were mutually understandable to a certain extent, though the contact with the colonizers’ languages and varieties caused different degrees of divergence. However, from the time Italian entered the repertoire of the great majority of the Sardinian speakers, eventually to become their dominant language, Sardinian lost its usefulness for interregional communication, while Italian became the cross-regional koinè. In the early stages of this process of language shift, when the Sardinian speakers of Italian were still a restricted educated elite, especially because their model of reference was the written production, and their competence was based on institutionalized education, the High language, Italian, and the Low variety, Sardinian, were separate systems for these speakers, possibly with a low degree of overlapping. Language convergence was rather more frequent in the speech of the uneducated Sardinians, who were not as proficient in Italian as they were in Sardinian. With the wider use of Italian across all social strata of the population, particularly from the 1960s, as a result of the extensive primary schooling in the post-war period, and with the great socio-cultural and economic changes that took place in Sardinia as well as in Italy, the distance between Italian and Sardinian narrowed rapidly. The use of Italian allowed for wider communication across the linguistic communities of Sardinia, and shortened the social distance, since the ability to speak Italian was not a privilege anymore. At the community level, the pressure for social mobility, determined by and consequent to industrialization, triggered the wider use of the high variety in diglossia, to reach a stage of extended bilingualism. From a functional point of view, the instability of the diglossic relationship between the two language systems in contact was leading to the increased use of Italian, to the Sardinian disadvantage. Italian was

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gradually taking over the communicative functions and referential areas traditionally fulfilled by Sardinian. As a matter of fact, the expansion in the use of Italian corresponds to the loss of the functional and communicative competence in Sardinian by the Sardinian speakers. This new situation produced more opportunities for interference and for convergence between the two language systems. Convergence mechanisms caused the consistent loss of definite boundaries between the two systems in contact. In the continuum representing the Sardinians’ repertoire, the overlapping area of contact was identified as a regional variety of Italian (Italiano Regionale Sardo or IRS, Loi Corvetto, 1979). Currently, regional Italian (IRS) is present in the language repertoire of all Sardinian speakers, shared by all the Sardinian language communities, although geographically characterized by contact with the local idioms with varying degrees of interference. Interestingly, the contact features traceable in the regional variety of Italian spoken in Sardinia are used even among those Sardinians who do not speak Sardinian (Mercurio Gregorini, 1980; Jones, 1993; Loi Corvetto, 1983; Mura Porcu & Gargiulo, 2005). While the social and cultural factors affecting language use in the last few decades may have drastically reduced the number of bilinguals competent in a Sardinian variety, the number of monolinguals in Sardinian Italian (IRS) has rapidly grown. On the other hand, the use of Sardinian for primary socialization has drastically decreased. In general, the southern regions of the island have been more open to external influences. Similarly, in the towns along the coast such as Cagliari, Sassari, Porto Torres, Olbia, and those where the tourism industry has an important role in the local economy, the Italian language overtook earlier than elsewhere the informal domains of use originally assigned to the local idiom. Although Sardinian (the local variety) remains in the Sardinian speakers’ repertoire at least at the level of passive familiarity (Thomason, 2001) or dormant bilingualism (Grosjean, 2001), and it tends to affect the speakers’ use of the dominant language within the Sardinian community, IRS seems to have become the first language and the dominant language of the majority of Sardinians, particularly among the younger generations. The use of lexical items from the local dialect was recorded in the Italian speaking production of Sardinian youth in school contexts, in two Sardinian towns (Cagliari and Oristano) with different degrees of urbanization (Mura Porcu & Gargiulo, 2005). The integration of interfering features from local Sardinian into the juvenile register or in the diaphasic youth variety of Italian studied is interpreted as a connotative strategy that satisfies the need for ethnic identity.

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According to Paulis (2001), youngsters can hardly use Sardinian beyond stereotyped formulas, and older Sardinian speakers may not be able to carry on an entire conversation in Sardinian without mixing codes. The process of re-lexicalization towards Italian that is apparently taking place in Sardinian may induce the speakers of Sardinian to view it more as a variety of Italian than as an independent language system, and it will eventually lead them to a faster shift to Italian (Paulis, 2001). From the linguistic point of view, the Sardinian language, confined to informal domains, and to the rural environment, has not developed entire semantic fields in order to satisfy, for instance, the needs of technological and industrial development. By losing its communicative usefulness, a language is likely to fail in its primary objective, that is to describe reality, and in so doing it is bound to lose ground and undergo language shift. The present situation shouldn’t be a surprise. In fact, although few sociolinguistic empirical studies on the contact situation between Sardinian and Italian are available, as Paulis pointed out (2001), these results were foreseeable, based on the few investigations available. Sanna (1979) had already indicated the dynamic process of language shift in the younger generations, and language convergence between the languages in contact, with greater convergence of the minority towards the dominant language, particularly in the lexicon and in some syntactic features. Centuries of persistent foreign domination accustomed Sardinians to the authority’s negative attitude towards their language and culture, and to the necessity of the use of a foreign language for formal affairs and in formal writing. It also triggered a negative attitude toward the ethnic language on the part of Sardinians, if not a pervasive sense of inferiority of the Sardinian ethnic and cultural identity. The effects of the public institutions’ rejection of the local culture and idiom had a particularly strong impact on the Sardinian population after the unification of Italy, especially with the institution of the national school system, which obliged families to send their children to primary school. The State’s purpose to dismiss the ethnic language was particularly evident at school in the teachers’ negative attitudes; they formally and informally objected to the students’ use of their local idiom at school. The children’s negative experience at school, where their language and culture were stigmatized as inferior, alienated them from school, and induced the families to teach Italian to their offspring, in order to avoid discrimination and even harassment. The current sociolinguistic situation seems to offer some possible conditions for the prevention of a drastic language shift. The growing linguistic and meta-linguistic awareness of the cultural dignity of the

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heritage language at the community level needs to find its way to influence language choices and to foster mechanisms of heritage language maintenance or revitalization at the individual and community level in Sardinia. It is not empirically evident whether an increasing rate of heritage language transmission to the younger generations corresponds to an increased language loyalty. In fact, the Sardinian language seems to be viewed as an instrument through which to regain some knowledge of the past, rather than as a means of communication for the present and for the future.

References Bellieni, Camillo. La Sardegna e i sardi nella civiltà del mondo antico. Cagliari: Editrice Sarda Fossataro, 1928, 1973. Blasco Ferrer, Edoardo. Il Latino e la romanizzazione della Sardegna. Vecchie e Nuove Ipotesi. Archivio Glottologico Italiano, 74, 1, pp. 190, 1989. —. Storia linguistica della Sardegna. Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1984. Contini, Michel & Edward F. Tuttle. “Sardinian”. In Trends in Romance Linguistics and Philology, edited by Rebecca Posner & John N. Green. La Haye: Mouton, pp. 171-188, 1982. Dettori, Antonietta. “Industrializzazione e situazione linguistica. Inchiesta Sociolinguistica in una Industria di Macomer (Nuoro)”. In, I Dialetti e le Lingue delle Minoranze di fronte all’Italiano. Atti dell’XI Congresso Internazionale di Studi, Cagliari, 27-30 Mag. 1977, edited by Federico Albano Leoni. Rome: Bulzoni editore, pp. 171-206, 1979. —.. “Italiano e Sardo dal Settecento al Novecento”. In Storia d’Italia. Le Regioni dall’Unità a Oggi. La Sardegna, edited by Luigi Berlinguer & Antonello Mattone. Turin: Einaudi, pp. 1155-1197, 1998, —. “La Sardegna”. In I dialetti italiani. Storia struttura uso, edited by Manlio Cortelazzo, Carla Marcato, Nicola De Blasi & Gianrenzo P. Clivio. Turin: UTET, pp. 899-958, 2002. Grosjean, François. “Individual bilingualism”. In Concise Encyclopedia of Sociolinguistics, edited by Raj Mesthrie. Oxford, UK: Pergamon, pp. 10-16, 2001. Jones, Michael Alían. Sardinian Syntax. New York: Routledge, 1993. Hernàndez-Campoy, Juan Manuel & Juan Camilo Conde-Silvestre. The Handbook of Historical Sociolinguistics. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pbls, 2012. Lavinio, Cristina. “L’italiano regionale in Sardegna”. In L’Infinito e oltre. Omaggio a Gunver Skytte, edited by Hanne Jansen, Paola Polito, Lene

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Schosler & Erling Strudsholm. Odense: University Press, pp. 241-255, 2002. Loi Corvetto, Ines. “Il sardo e l’italiano: interferenze lessicali”. In I Dialetti e le Lingue delle Minoranze di Fronte all’Italiano. Atti dell’XI Congresso Internazionaledi Studi della Società di Linguistica Italiana. Cagliari, 27-30 Maggio 1977, edited by Federico Albano Leoni. Rome: Bulzoni Editore, pp. 133-146, 1979. —. L’Italiano Regionale in Sardegna. Bologna: Zanichelli, 1983. —. “La Sardegna”. In La Sardegna e la Corsica, edited by Ines Loi Corvetto, Annalisa Nesi. Turin: UTET, pp. 3-196, 1993. Lupinu, Giovanni, Alessandro Mongili, Anna Oppo, Riccardo Spiga, Sabrina Perra, Matteo Valdes. Le Lingue dei Sardi. Una Ricerca Sociolinguistica. Università degli Studi di Cagliari, Facoltà di Scienze Politiche, Dipartimento Ricerche Economiche e Sociali, Università degli Studi di Sassari, Facoltà di Lettere, Dipartimento di Scienze dei linguaggi, 2007. Mensching, Guido. Einführung in die sardische Sprache. Bibliothek romanischer Sprachlehrwerke. Bonn: Romanistischer Verlag. 1994. Mercurio Gregorini, Rimedia. “L’Italiano e il Sardo nelle Scuole Elementari”. In I Dialetti e le Lingue delle Minoranze di Fronte all’Italiano. SLI 16/1. Rome: Bulzoni Editore, pp.527-554, 1980. Mura Porcu, Anna & Marco Gargiulo. “Varietà a Contatto nel Linguaggio Giovanile in Sardegna”. In Atti del IV Congresso di Studi dell’Associazione Italiana di Linguistica Applicata. Modena 19-20 febbraio 2004, edited by Giorgio Banti, Antonietta Marra & Edoardo Vineis. Perugia: Guerra Edizioni, pp. 303-320, 2005. Nivola, Elisa. Pedagogia e politica nella «Questione Sarda». Sassari: Edizioni di iniziative culturali, 1992. Paci, Raffaele (Ed.), Crescita economica e sistemi produttivi locali in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 1997. Pais, Ettore. La Sardegna prima del dominio romano (Studi storici ed archeologici), Rome: Atti dell’Accademia dei Lincei. 1881. —. Civiltà dei nuraghi e sviluppo sociologico della Sardegna, Cagliari: Dessì, 1911. Paulis, G.iulio. “La Conoscenza Linguistica dei Sardi: un Problema Scientifico e Politico”. LGV, XIII, 17-23, 1977. —. Traduzione italiana, saggio introduttivo e cura di Wagner, Max Leopold 1921 Das ländliche Leben Sardiniens im Spiegel der Sprache. Kulturhistorisch-sprachliche. Nuoro: Ilisso, 1996. —. “Il sardo unificato e la teoria della pianificazione linguistica”. In Limba lingua language. Lingue locali, standardizzazione e identità in

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Sardegna nell’era della globalizzazione, edited by Argiolas, Mario & Roberto Serra. Cagliari: CUEC, pp. 155-171, 2001. Philipson, Robert. Linguistic Imperialism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992. Porru, Matteo. Breve Storia della Lingua Sarda. Cagliari: Edizioni Castello, 1991. Putzu, Ignazio Efisio. Quantificazione totale/universale e determinatezza nelle lingue del Mediterraneo. Una prospettiva tipologica, areale e diacronica. Pisa: ETS, 2001. Romaine, Suzanne. Bilingualism. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pbls, 1989, republished in 1995. Sanna, Antonio. Il dialetto di Sassari e altri saggi. Cagliari: Trois, 1975. —. “La situazione linguistica e sociolinguistica della Sardegna”. In I Dialetti e le Lingue delle Minoranze di Fronte all’Italiano. Atti dell’XI Congresso Internazionale di Studi della Società di Linguistica Italiana. Cagliari, 27-30 Maggio 1977, edited by Albano Leoni, Federico. Rome: Bulzoni Editore, pp. 119-131, 1979. Sole, Leonardo. “Sardegna: bilinguismo e cultura di frontiera”. Quaderni per la promozione del bilinguismo, 29-30, 2-47, 1981. —. Lingua e Cultura in Sardegna. Milan: Edizioni Unicopli, 1988. —. Lingua e Cultura in Sardegna. La Situazione Sociolinguistica. Milan: Edizioni Unicopli, 1990. Tagliavini, Carlo. Le Origini delle Lingue Neolatine. Bologna: Patron, 1969. Thomason, Sara G. & Terrence Kaufman. Language Contact, Creolization, and Genetic LinguistiCS. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988. Thomason, Sara G. Language Contact. An Introduction. Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2001. Wagner, Max Leopold. La Lingua Sarda. Storia, Spirito e Forma. Berna: Francke S. A. Press, 1950.

CHAPTER TEN LANDSCAPE MARCELLO TANCA

Sardinia: inglorious landscapes? Discussing landscape in Sardinia might seem paradoxical, at first. On the one hand, as the anthropologist Giulio Angioni remarked with reference to the lively political and cultural debate aroused by landscape planning in the past few years, “In Sardegna si è discusso più che altrove sul paesaggio” [“In Sardinia, more than anywhere else, the landscape has been at the centre of debates”] (Angioni, 2013, p. 227). On the other hand, it cannot but be pointed out that, in the language spoken by Sardinians, both the word and the concept of landscape are lacking (Bandinu, 2002). Thus, one of the parameters that marks the civilisations paysagères, landscape civilization (Berque, 1995) – the most important one – goes missing. Potentially, such a lack of linguistic means to utter the concept of landscape could be too hastily used as a supporting argument to the thesis that Sardinians, during the long centuries of their history, have not produced any landscape. Moreover, it could be added, is it not true that a comparison with other Italian regions would be ungenerous and even unfavourable for Sardinia? Apart from its natural monuments (woods of century-old yews, stacks and dunes, limestone and basaltic plateaus, and granitic peaks), Sardinia apparently has nothing better to offer than “inglorious landscapes”, void of meaningful episodes and which bear no remote resemblance to landscapes of recognized value, such as the Piedmontese Langhe, the sinuous outline of Tuscan hills or the Cinque Terre in Liguria. In vain one will seek for Italian gardens and Renaissance castles, the Palladian villas of Veneto, historic residences like the Royal Palace of Caserta, and the classical temples that abound in the south of Italy. However, as far as landscape is concerned, it can be said, as Tzvetan Todorov remarked on language and culture, that when these are measured by the yardstick of another language and another culture, every difference

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is perceived as a lack (Todorov, 1994, p. 109). Therefore, rather than proceeding via denial, and concentrating on what Sardinian landscape is not, it seems more interesting to try to describe positively what it is, in its values and in its peculiar traits. To do so, it is necessary to go beyond a merely formal and aesthetic conception, whereby landscape is intended as background, imago loci, visual asset, tour d’horizon, the knowledge of which fades away with its description. Rather, landscape has to be intended as a mediation tool shaping the invisible, providing immediacy and visibility to contents which per se are neither immediate nor visible (e.g. the complex socio-economic relations and power relations in the territory and in society). Or, in other words, landscape is “an open window to unlimited possibilities” (Dardel), allowing wide observation from shape to content and from contents to the underlying processes which generated them. As we will see, it is difficult to understand either the reasons for a heavily fragmented landscape of agricultural land without taking into account the mechanisms of inheritance of Sardinian society, or the reasons why tourist and industrial landscapes are located prevailingly on the coast without going back to the historical procedures of land occupation, and, from there, to the agropastoral activities practised by Sardinians over the centuries. In short, in order to know and understand the landscape of a region like Sardinia, where it is easier to understand the tight connections between present and past, reasoning ought to be carried out in terms of a process of incorporation rather than inscription. The distinction put forward by the British anthropologist Paul Connerton (1989) to define the modalities through which societies practise their ability to remember was applied by Tim Ingold to landscape. More precisely, Ingold wrote: “The landscape takes on its forms through a process of incorporation, not of inscription. That is to say, the process is not one whereby cultural design is imposed upon a naturally given substrate, as though the movement issued from the form and was completed in its concrete realization in the material.” (Ingold, 1993, p. 162) The current shape of the Sardinian landscape is not only overwritten on the pre-existing ones, as happened where industrialization and urbanization processes treated the territory as a palimpsest (i.e. a white sheet of paper to be written on, erased, and written on again), and broke the continuity with the past. From this point of view, the Sardinian landscape is a massive archive in which several moments of the development of Sardinian society are incorporated (and in which they coexist, sometimes peacefully, sometimes conflicting); or, as Ingold wrote, “an enduring record of – and testimony to – the lives and works of past generations who have dwelt within it, and in so doing, have left there something of themselves.” (ibid, p. 152) Such a statement, though, doesn’t

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imply the repetition, once again, of the image of an out-of-time Sardinia, immaculate and archaic, immune to change and to transformation, where – as Ernst Jünger said on visiting it in the 1950s – it is nowadays still possible “to sleep a light slumber between the atoms of a-temporality”. This is but a deceitful impression, which does not take into account the various alterations experienced by the Sardinian landscape, which in many cases have irrevocably altered its physiognomy: reclamations – with drainage of swamps and insalubrious wetlands (according to Alberto Ferrero Della Marmora, 1/5 of the entire surface of the island was covered in woods at the half-way point of the 19th century); changes imposed by land reform – which entailed building farmhouses, irrigation systems, roads and dams; the introduction of new tree species (eucalyptus, conifer, and various types of pines) and new crops (such as rice in the Oristano area). Contemporary landscapes offered by Sardinia to the eye of the beholder encompass a wide time frame (from the remains of nuragic civilization to the contradictions of present times), and not only do they display a series of permanence, persistence, and structural invariants, but, mirroring alternating fortunes and the most recent evolution lines, they also document transitions towards new geographies. Some of these geographies are “under construction”; others have ended up miserably in a course that did not turn out to be as beneficial as it was expected to be (as in the case of industry). All of them, some more than others, are an integral part of the changes faced by the society and the territory of the island. Perhaps it would be excessive to maintain that the history of Sardinia could be written with the history of its landscape, but whoever claimed that would not be that far from the truth.

Agropastoral landscape Let us get to the heart of this brief journey exploring Sardinian landscape with the help of a few simple attitude guidelines. The first one has to do with acknowledging the necessarily partial and selective character of our scouring. Though landscape will be used to highlight the outcomes of social and territorial processes on the physiognomy of place, landscape experience turns out to be much wider and richer in morphological, historical, contextual, and perceptive terms than our approach can account for (and Sardinia makes no exception to this rule). Secondly, acknowledging the non-exhaustiveness of our descriptions does not imply renouncing completely the laying out of our conceptual nets in the mare magnum of phenomena, hoping to “catch” the largest amount of meanings. It does, however, mean one should avoid absolutizing the

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results. It seems also that, from this point of view, the categories on which our analysis will be based – agropastoral, tourist, and industrial landscapes – may enlighten a good number of significant features of the matter at hand, without excessively harnessing it. Let us begin then by saying that what is commonly perceived as the most authentic Sardinian landscape, i.e. pastoral landscape, represents just one component of rural landscape - prevailing, but not for this reason the one and only. The misunderstanding arises, perhaps, out of the ubiquitous flocks in the landscape (a true icon, just like nuraghi), and out of a certain aura of primitivism and archaism, which has always accompanied descriptions of the island, but that in the long run has done Sardinia more harm than good. Actually, at the exact moment at which Sardinian rural landscape is disassembled so as to look inside it, it is impossible not to acknowledge that its paternity is a shared one, and it has to be divided up between shepherds and farmers, who have deeply shaped its features with their everyday practice, based on an integrated (social) use of space. According to Maurice Le Lannou, cohabitation of pastoral nomadism and sedentary agriculture represented – and with good reason – “une originalité de plus dans la personnalité historique et géographique de la Sardaigne” [“original features of Sardinia’s historical and geographical personality”]. And even if he represented such co-presence in Pâtres et paysans de la Sardaigne (1941) as an antagonism (“la lutte des agriculteurs et des bergers” [“a fight between farmers and shepherds”]), such a conflict should not be taken literally. A proof of this is the fact that, some years later, Le Lannou himself – thinking back to his Sardinian experience in view of the human ecology of Max Sorre – will talk rather of a co-belonging symbiotic bond between shepherding and farming practice (Le Lannou, 1949). More recently, in an ethno-archaeological study on pastoralism in Sardinia, Antoon Cornelis Mientjes was forced to admit that it made little sense to study shepherds’ work as separate from other – though minority – modalities of land usage: “La linea divisoria tra i diversi modi di produzione non fu mai veramente netta” [“The dividing line between the different production methods has never been clearly traced”] (Mientjes, 2008, p. 215). It can be said that not only the dividing line between the pastoral and peasant worlds has never been clearly traced - save for some rare exceptions - even in the most traditional pastoral areas, a society exclusively devoted to pastoralism never existed. On the contrary, sheep farming and agriculture composed subsets or dynamic complementary modules of the same reality that integrated reciprocally, and as such they need to be studied. Therefore, if we have to talk about conflict, it must have other protagonists, because, far from being all within

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the agropastoral civilization, this conflict stems from the irreconcilability of the need for soil preservation of the agropastoral civilization and the need for new spaces for domestic, industrial, and trade facilities. Nowadays we can tell which one of these two opposed tendencies has prevailed: in Sardinia, an 11-fold increase of urbanized soil has been recorded in less than 60 years (1950-2008), with a daily consumption of 3 hectares (FAI, 2012). Going back to agropastoral landscape, nobody can deny that, even in the unstable equilibrium of the socio-economic system which created it, such a landscape is the result of a slow accumulation of experience, practices, and technical skills that men poured on the land, to be intended as the place and means of production. It is necessary to start from this fact, rather than from the morphology of a territory where hills are predominant (more than 2/3), followed by mountains and plains (the last ones covering less than 1/5 of the total surface). Instead, it is rather interesting to remark how men have tacked over such pre-existing framework provided by nature, the textures of their activity. These textures need to be properly read, if we want to avoid repeating once again the image that Balzac – well into the nineteenth century – gave of Sardinia as “un royaume entier désertique”, and that others after him would confirm. Indeed, the feeling of “solitude” that can be inspired by the Sardinian landscape is undeniable still today. Nonetheless, this is just the effect of a separation, at one time physical and spatial, between biddas, on the one side, and campus/saltus, on the other – which is to say between place to live and place to work, between the village and the countryside. A border appeared, which was visible even to the naked eye, between inhabited landscapes – settled and concentrated – and apparently “empty” ones, in which pastoral and agricultural activities were performed. The “emptiness” of such a “desert realm” was the direct consequence of the fact that the prevailing economic activity – though not exclusive – of sheep farming affects the landscape in a different way, especially if compared to the minority activity of agriculture. As a Sardinian geographer wrote: “mentre il lavoro degli uomini che si dedicano alla coltivazione dei campi lascia segni molto concreti e da tutti facilmente individuabili (campi arati, spazi alberati, spazi vitati, opere di adduzione e distribuzione dell’acqua, case rurali e opere infrastrutturali, ecc.), l’attività dei pastori si esplica con modalità che richiedono una certa esperienza perché gli spazi in cui essi operano si possano leggere in modo appropriato. A molti perciò i luoghi dominati dal pastore sembrano in abbandono, anche quando costituiscono risorse territoriali utilizzate persino troppo intensamente e con vantaggio economico non trascurabile, perché la presenza degli uomini vi è rara e le tracce delle loro opere sono

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molto disperse sul territorio” [“while the work of men devoted to the cultivation of crops leaves concrete evidence, which everyone can identify (ploughed fields, tree-lined spaces, vineyards, water adduction and distribution works, farmhouses and infrastructures, etc.), the activity of shepherds can only be explained through modalities which require a certain amount of experience, so that the spaces where they operate can be appropriately read. This is the reason why, to the majority of people, the spaces “ruled” by shepherds seem abandoned – even though they are territorial resources used even far too intensively and with remarkable economic benefits – because the presence of men is rare, and traces of their works are far scattered on the territory”] (Loi, 1996, p. 45). In recent decades, such landscape configuration has rapidly reached truly epochal dimensions, among which it has to be remembered in primis the urbanization of the countryside, which led to new living styles, such as the sedentariness of pastoral activity, and the advent of widespread, anonymous urban areas, which are characterized by the adoption of new industrial construction materials (cement, concrete, plastic replaced basalt, granite, slate, and limestone). Nonetheless, such transformations, which deeply affect the visible features of the landscape by re-configuring its physical shapes, are not the only ones. In a symbiotic system such as the Sardinian agropastoral one – intricate and complex – all fit together. More significantly, in the villages of central and southwestern Sardinia, the disappearance of cereal crops and the conversion of the agropastoral productive system to one in which pastoral monoculture dominates as the one and only activity represent two sides of the same phenomenon. It is useful to add something on these two on-going processes, due to the manifest effects they have on the physiognomy of place. On the one hand, the overall used agricultural surface had a 13% increase in a decade (20002010). Such an increase is not related though, as it should be expected to, to an increase in cultivated lands, which, for various reasons all mutually related (emigration, low birth rate, abandonment of traditional production activities), have dramatically diminished. Nowadays, more than 60% of agricultural surface in use is intended for permanent meadows and pastures, which is to say, ultimately, for pastoral farming needs. On the other hand, the remaining portion of agricultural surface actually intended for cereal crops, nettle, and forage, appears heavily scattered and fragmented, even to the naked eye. This is the extreme consequence of an inheritance system that dictated equal sharing of the land among all children, women included. What the eye catches at a first glance of the agricultural landscape is widely supported by the data relating to the agrarian regime of the island, where medium-to-large and large farms

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represent only the 18% of the total amount, whereas the remaining 80% is composed of small and medium farms, which do not reach 30 hectares of agricultural surface in use, with those using less than two hectares being more than 1/3, almost 40% of the total amount (RAS, 2013). In sum, the fragmentation and the backwardness of the agricultural landscape, and in connection to this, of the cereal crops, nettle, and forage, goes hand in hand with the advance of the pastoral landscape, which takes possession of the spaces neglected by farmers. Such a process brings about a weakening of the activities of land maintenance and cleaning, which, on the one hand, were a prerogative of agriculture (like crop rotation, ploughing, and autumn burning of residues and maquis), and on the other hand were complementary to pastoral farming. The resulting rural landscape is marked by an increased dimension of the maquis, in particular of cistus, to which a remedy is sought through fires, “il mezzo più economico per riaprire alle greggi gli spazi e i percorsi interrotti dal dinamismo della vegetazione” [“the cheapest way to re-open to flocks the spaces and the routes which have been blocked by dynamic vegetation”] (Meloni, Carboni, 2009, p. 76).

Tourist landscape It can be better understood now why Sardinian culture would not have elaborated autonomously the concept of landscape: such an elaboration implies detachment from everyday practices, the absence of a practical goal in the gaze that is turned on the land. Actually, in the agropastoral civilization that has developed in Sardinia, landscape is never the motionless background of social life to be looked upon with uninterested and contemplative attitude; rather, it is the field in which to practise the taming of nature, which is an essential condition for work, and a fundamental part of daily labour. Yet, there is a landscape in Sardinia which is an object of aesthetic pleasure, and which is valued for its connatural environmental qualities (climatic, morphological, and paedological): it is the tourist landscape, which is located along the coastline. Actually, when speaking about tourist landscape, two different experiences are referred to, which together give life to what can be called, according to Farinelli (1992), the wit of tourist landscape. On the one side, there is the landscape as an image, which acts as an attraction for tourists, where nature represents “an absolutely central positional good” (Urry, 1990), and which is well represented by 1,850 km of coastline, showing a considerable typological variety of bays, coves quilted with oleanders, inlets, caves, sandy or quartzite shorelines,

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indentations, calcareous cliffs, porphyry and granite reefs. On the other side, there is the landscape as a thing, the result, the outcome, the product made by and for tourism in its economic, socio-cultural, and territorial effects, such as the dynamics of space occupation. As far as the first meaning is concerned, by paraphrasing Jean-Marie Miossec it can be said that tourist landscape is first of all an image (cf. Miossec, 1977, p. 55), i.e. a representation playing a crucial role in making the territory successful within increasingly severe international competition. The making of such an image follows the selection of some landscape situations, which are torn off the wider territorial context in which they are placed, and reassembled in a patchwork, which is functional to satisfying hetero-centred needs, devised elsewhere: the myth of the Mediterraneity, the idea of archaism, of wild untouched nature in connection with insularity, and, most of all, breaking with everyday life and the desire to escape. As a sample survey carried out some years ago by the Regional tourism department reported on the perceived image of Sardinia as holiday destination, the environmental features of coastal landscape are indeed those meeting with the most positive reception, as far as both actual and potential tourists are concerned (RAS, 2006). From the point of view of the image, the Sardinian tourist landscape can be still summed up by the well-known “three Ss”: Sea, Sand, and Sun (Figure 10.1). Nevertheless, a true tourist landscape is born when, into uncontaminated sea and beautiful coastlines, an artificial landscape is progressively integrated. This new addition is entirely built, and made of settlements and infrastructure aimed at being visited by tourists, as in the case of resorts, bungalows, swimming pools and golf courses, of big housing estates, multi-story hotels, summer houses, etc., filling in a previous settling “gap”, even with remarkable examples of unauthorized building. Such new configurations appeared in the 1960s, in coincidence with a new building cycle involving Southern Italy and the islands, which saw an intense allotting of coastal areas; that is to say, exactly those areas which had been less involved in agricultural and pastoral activities, and historically characterized by such a low population density that it was possible to walk kilometres and kilometres of almost uninhabited coast. Nowadays, the Sardinian tourist landscape still finds it hard to shake off the “monoculture of the seaside”, as it was called (Fadda, 2013, p. 28), which is evident in spatial concentration along the sandy coastline, with 90% of hotel beds located in the northeastern, northwestern, southern and central-eastern zones, and in the time concentration of the summer season (June-September), where 80% of the regional total amount of tourists is

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concentrated (Corsale, Renoldi, Sistu, 2007). Such dynamics expose the territory to feverish summer overpopulation, while leaving it almost abandoned in the remaining months, deeply modifying – sometimes irreversibly too – landscape forms, by near-overcrowding, and installation of non-belonging settling and architectonical shapes which are alien to local culture, and divorced from the contexts in which they are placed. There is environmental degradation and pollution, interruption of continuity between coastline and inland, privatization of spaces. It is no accident that the most conspicuous real estates are to be found in coastal municipalities, where – taking advantage of a regulatory gap of extreme gravity, and of the vast unused and uninterrupted areas available – the “emeraldization” of Sardinian coasts takes place. This term makes reference to a precise episode, the creation ex nihilo, in the 1960s, of a seaside resort in the northeast of the island, the Costa Smeralda of the Ishmaelite prince Karim Aga Khan, while identifying emblematically a model in which a large part of the recent history of local tourism can be synthesized (starting from its name, replacing the original toponym, Monti di Mola, by which that part of the coastline was known). In his definitive study on tourist landscape (1983), Richard L. Price singled out in Costa Smeralda 4 types of housing solutions belonging to at least 6 different architectural styles, being a heterogeneous combination of various elements from elsewhere (plaster related to Greek islands, threecentred arch to Lombardy, etc.) and from local tradition (balconies of Aritzo, squared granite shapes evoking nuraghi, etc.). Though the American geographer’s work dates back to more than thirty years ago, many of his conclusions – which he came to after scouring the Sardinian coastline, attentively monitoring its settlement – have not lost their topicality. On the contrary, the fact that tourism has revolutionized the Sardinian landscape more deeply than agriculture and industry is even more evident nowadays, and undeniable too, than at the beginning of 1980s. It may be enough to take a look at the widespread diffusion of the architectural styles as censused by Price all over the island: a way of building and living that was born out of overlapping and mixing different heterogeneous stylistic elements, which had no direct connection to the territory on which they were superimposed, ending up being the prototype of “Sardinian style”. The dramatic paradox in such a matter is that an invented, copied, reproduced, and repeated landscape has imposed itself as a model of authenticity. What better demonstration of the fact that – if landscape is the more-or-less faithful image of a territory – tourist landscape is the image of an image?

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Figure 10.1. A continent in miniature: “Sardinia, almost a continent”. Source: Regione Autonoma della Sardegna

Industrial landscape Sometimes we read that the first steps of tourism in Sardinia matched the advent of another landscape which was new to the island: the industrial landscape. Such a reconstruction shows how schizophrenic landscape can be, as, on the one hand, the idea of pleasantness and leisure in “untouched nature” is celebrated, and, on the other hand, chimneys and thermal power stations are built, whose damages to the atmosphere and the environment have left behind hundreds of hectares of disused lands still to be decontaminated. Such reconstruction, however, is only half true. It is true

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if industry is narrowed down to only the petrochemical industry, which is just one of the divisions of Sardinian industrial landscape. Until the advent of basic chemistry, the industrial landscape rather matched the landscape of mineral deposits and pits of coal, lead and zinc, talc, fluorite, and barite in the areas of Sulcis-Iglesiente, Fluminese, Nuoro, and Nurra. Their exploitation dates back to very ancient times: it is worth remembering that Balzac landed in Sardinia following his dreams of profiting from the silver deposits of Argentiera, an area in the northwest of the island. At the end of the 1950s, the meaning of the mining landscape was gradually emptied, and a true semantic change came when the production activity that had expressed it entered its crisis, squeezed between increased costs and competition with more competitive production from abroad. From a concrete sign of existing living production functions, it turned into what Claude Raffestin would call “l’immagine di un territorio che non c’è più” [“the image of a territory that exists no more”], i.e. into the evidence of discontinued extractive activities. There are no doubts that it was painful, in particular if we think that about 170 extractive sites covered an overall area larger than 7,000 hectares (more than 80% are in the SulcisIglesiente-Guspinese area) on the regional territory. The splendour of the mining landscape is celebrated by the industrial archaeology, such as the Geo-mining Park, where art nouveau buildings, mineshafts, disused plants and buildings, thousands of kilometres of tunnels, etc., are not just a tourist attraction, keeping the memory of a territory alive at the same time. In this regard, it is worth saying that Carbonia – a planned city established in 1938 under the fascist regime to host coal-mine workers – won the 2010/2011 edition of the Landscape Award of the Council of Europe with a project (Carbonia Landscape Machine) focused on recovery, restoration, preservation, and regeneration of its own urban and architectural system. More recent is the history of the industrial landscape generated by the petrochemical monoculture, which started up at the beginning of the 1960s. Just like the tourist landscape, this landscape too suffers from hetero-centred logic - the same that presides over the forced industrialization process that the continental and insular south of Italy underwent during those years, in the name of the desired “modernization”. If, on the one hand, Sardinian industrialization broke the repetitive compulsion of subsistence microeconomics, on the other hand it remained a “foreign body” which did not foster the formation of a local entrepreneurial class, or of the related socio-economic fabric that was necessary to its consolidation. The choice of the double localization (regional and coastal) of the plants found a series of favourable elements for their installation in the low population of the coasts, in the lower costs

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of building sites, and in the vast back lands (which made it easier to control the land-sea interface). Thus rose the petrochemical plants of Porto Torres, Fiume Santo, and Sarroch (among the largest ones in the Mediterranean Sea and in Europe), the plants for production of plastic materials in Macchiareddu-Assemini and of acrylic fibre and polyester in Ottana and Villacidro. Their incorporation (according to the sense given to the term by Ingold) created from scratch an imported landscape, never seen before in Sardinia, in which deposits, laboratories and workshops, thermal power stations and basins, modular elements, cooling towers, storage plants, terminals for expeditions by sea, and so on, were amassed. These installations, whose effects are “per lo più cacofonici” [“in most cases cacophonous ones”] (Cassatella, Cinà, Gambino, 2014, p. 17), give rise to a series of problematic situations with severe degradation effects on the landscape. The massive disused or underused plants cause disorder and visual obstruction. Criticalities triggered by industrial landscapes, in which a paramount role is played by pollution or soil and coast water contamination, pile up, with superimpositions that are difficult to handle. Such a landscape, however, is facing a destiny that is tragically analogous to that of the mines, becoming a remote memory because of the effects of the recent economic crisis, which actually intensifies a previous crisis of the system, already visible in the 1980s. Once the activity is discontinued because of the high costs of energy and transportation, and because of international competition, industries shut down, adding further wounds to a society already weakened by countless disappointments and defeats. Only warehouses, structures, and, often, the consequences of an unwise use of environmental resources stand; emptied of its productive functions, the industrial landscape increasingly resembles the façade of a building where no one lives anymore.

Conclusions In its strategic sectors, the Sardinian landscape seems burdened by the dissemination of three different monocultures. First, the pastoral monoculture, which is child to a recent genetic and invasive mutation, that threatens to monopolize the rural world with the disadvantage of other productive activities, starting from the agricultural ones. Second, the seaside tourism monoculture, pinning visitors (and Sardinians, at the same time) on modalities and timings in a concentration limited to a few months each year, favouring a component which is obviously significant for the heritage of the Sardinian landscape, but which altogether is not exhaustive of its great beauty. Last, the petrochemical monoculture, the interferences

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of which discredit the environmental and identity value of the places, and that, with its crisis, worsens a pre-existing socio-economic gap, with no way out in sight yet. Naturally, such a picture is incomplete, fragmented, and partial; it would require further retouching, inclusions, and explanations, which would describe much better the multifaceted Sardinian landscape. Indeed, this description would include its historical and archaeological landscape (where the signs are visible of a past more often evoked than actually known, such as the nuraghi, the sacred wells and the giants’ tombs, but also the numerous rural and Romanesque churches). Its literary landscape, which – in literary works by Sergio Atzeni, Giulio Angioni, Salvatore Niffoi, Michela Murgia, Marcello Fois, and others – coexists and blurs with the narrated events, until it becomes a literary character in itself. Its urban landscape, absorbing almost 1/3 of the residing population, which is remarkable for a region where the population density is among the lowest in Italy. Finally, the landscape planning that has become a “hot” topic, even leading to political clashes after the approval, in 2006, of the Sardinian regional landscape plan of the council presided over by Renato Soru, with the protection of the values of the Sardinian landscape as one of its strongest points. This list could be continued. Each of these landscapes is like a window opening on the world, offering to our gaze a partial fleeting fragment of truth; therefore, each of them is guiltless if the show unwinding under our eyes does not match our expectations. It would be naïve to think that it can be enough to abstain from looking, escaping the view of what insults us to erase its existence: crookedness keeps going in the world all the same. Therefore, if it is true that with the landscape only one cannot go that far, it is also true that without a landscape one goes nowhere. This happens because, just like any other artefact produced by man’s hands and will, the landscape itself obeys that law of desire that, according to Gramsci, summarized the fact that “the present contains the whole of the past and what is essential of the past realizes itself in the present” (2011, p. 175). There is a lot at stake, but the result is uncertain, since either a network of possibilities, or regret for a bleak sentence can stream all of a sudden out of such a premise.

References Angioni, Giulio. “La percezione comune del paesaggio”. In Lezioni di Piano. L’esperienza pioniera del Piano paesaggistico della Sardegna raccontata per voci, edited by Edoardo Salzano. Venice: Corte del Fontego, pp. 226-230, 2013.

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Bandinu, Bachisio. “Sguardo sulla Sardegna, scambio di sguardi”, in Mario De Biasi. Viaggio dentro l’isola, pp. 7-15. Nuoro: Ilisso, 2002. Berque, Augustin. Les raisons du paysage: de la Chine antique aux environnements de synthèse. Paris: Hazan, 1995. Cassatella, Claudia, Giuseppe Cinà, Roberto Gambino. Linee guida per i paesaggi industriali in Sardegna. Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino Editore, 2014. Connerton, Paul. How societies remember. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Corsale, Andrea, Stefano Renoldi, Giovanni Sistu. “Da Monti di Mola a Costa Smeralda. Fatti e luoghi del turismo in Sardegna”. In Vagamondo. Turismo e turisti in Sardegna, edited by Giovanni Sistu. Cagliari: CUEC, pp. 15-68, 2007. Fadda, Antonio. Da costa a costa. Identità e culture per un turismo integrato in Sardegna. Milan: Franco Angeli, 2013. FAI (Fondo Ambiente Italiano). Terra rubata. Viaggio nell’Italia che scompare, 2012. http://www.fondoambiente.it/upload/oggetti/ConsumoSuolo_Dossier_fin ale-1.pdf. Farinelli, Franco. I segni del mondo. Immagine cartografica e discorso geografico in età moderna. Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1992. Gramsci, Antonio. Prison Notebooks. III. New York: Columbia University Press, 2011. Ingold, Tim. “The Temporality of the Landscape”. World Archaeology, Vol. 25, No. 2, October, pp. 152-174, 1993. Le Lannou, Maurice. Pâtres et paysans de la Sardaigne. Tours: Arrault, 1941. —. La géographie humaine. Paris: Flammarion, 1949. Loi, Antonio. “I caratteri strutturali delle aziende”. In Geografia dei sistemi agricoli italiani. Sardegna, edited by Antonio Loi, Margherita Zaccagnini, Rome: REDA, pp. 35-74, 1996. Meloni, Benedetto, Stefano Carboni. “Il paesaggio partecipato. Componenti socio-culturali dei paesaggi agropastorali tradizionali”. In Metodologie per la progettazione sostenibile del paesaggio. Rapporto di terza fase: Il paesaggio rurale e la sua tutela e valorizzazione, edited by Direzione regionale per i beni culturali e paesaggistici della Sardegna, 2009 http://www.sardegna.beniculturali.it/psg/pdf/Il%20paesaggio%20parte cipato.pdf. Mientjes, Antoon Cornelis. Paesaggi pastorali. Studio etnoarcheologico sul pastoralismo in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 2008.

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Miossec, Jen-Marie. “L’image touristique comme introduction à la géographie du tourisme”. Annales de Géographie, t. 86, n. 473, pp. 5570, 1977. Price, Richard L. Una geografia del turismo: paesaggio e insediamenti umani sulle coste della Sardegna, Cagliari: Formez-Centro di Formazione e Studi per il Mezzogiorno, 1983. RAS (Regione Autonoma della Sardegna), Assessorato al Turismo. Indagine campionaria sull’immagine percepita della Sardegna come meta turistica, 2006. https://www.regione.sardegna.it/documenti/1_4_20060707123728.pdf. RAS (Regione Autonoma della Sardegna). Il 6° Censimento Generale dell’Agricoltura in Sardegna. Caratteristiche strutturali delle aziende agricole regionali, 2013. http://www.sardegnastatistiche.it/documenti/12_103_20130710170153 .pdf. Todorov, Tzvetan. On human diversity: nationalism, racism, and exoticism in French thought. Harvard: Harvard University Press, 1994. Urry, John. The tourist gaze: leisure and travel in contemporary societies. London: Sage, 1990.

CHAPTER ELEVEN COASTAL PLANNING AND TOURISM DEVELOPMENT: REFRAMING SEASIDE PARADISES CARLO PERELLI

Introduction Tourism related policies and plans started an interesting debate in the last few decades. This section intends to analyse this evolutionary phase in Sardinian recent history, concentrating on the birth, consolidation and stagnation of the coastal developmental strategies. The analysis focuses on the debate at a local level by considering the formation and consolidation of discursive practices sustaining the action of the single and collective protagonists in the regional debate. Nevertheless, technology and government rationalities, as well as rules and texts disciplining the spatial configuration of places, are relevant elements for the analysis. Prior to 2004 the review of development and planning strategies for coastal tourism in Sardinia and of the related debate was mainly based on local and national literature. Since 2004 the analysis has been focused on electoral campaign documents, the main official documents (see Table 11.1), newspapers, books, images, web, and the main actors’ interventions in the debate until the start of the last electoral campaign in 2014.

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Period

Strategy

1999 - 2003

Regional Plans rejected by Administrative Courts

Nov. 2004

Regional law “for the coast safeguard”

Mar. 2005

Institution of the “Coastal Conservation Authority”

May 2005

Regional Plan for Territory and Landscape

Jun. 2006

New taxes on holiday homes, yachts and private aircrafts for foreign visitors and non-residents

May 2007

Regional Plan for Sustainable Tourism Development

Jan. 2008

Regional Agency for Integrated Promotion “Sardegna Promozione”

Oct. 2008

Referendum on the Regional law “for the coast safeguard”

Nov. 2008

General Regional Plan

Oct. 2009

Regional Law providing extraordinary economic support to construction industry

Jun. 2010

Participation process “Sardegna Nuove Idee”

Sep. 2011

Regional Law supporting golf sector development

From end 2011

Institutional communication campaign on local newspapers “Domande & Risposte”

Mar. 2013

Memorandum of Understanding Ministry of Heritage and Culture / Region of Sardinia to regulate the revision procedures of the General Regional Plan.

Table 11.1. The analysed laws, acts and events of the Regional Government

From the 1960s to 2004 During the 1960s Sardinia started to perceive tourism as an opportunity for large scale development, interestingly associated with heavy industry improvements. At the same time, it is still described as “out of history” by external observers. The idea of a discovery of the coastline by travellers (Pittalis, 1988; Denti, 2012) and tourist developers clearly emerges from the newspapers and literature analyses (Bandinu, 1990). Interestingly

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enough, regional politicians use the same framework of meaning to “drive Sardinia to the future.” The discursive construction of modernity is expressed by a diversified strategy of industrialization, basic infrastructure, and tourism development. In 1962 a consortium headed by the Prince and Imam Karim Aga Khan, John Duncan Miller (at that time the World Bank Secretary for Europe) and Patrick Guinness, head of the global Irish beer brand, created “Costa Smeralda”, and opened a new tourism development season in Sardinia (Bandinu, 1980). In this phase the public regulation of tourism development by means of planning tools was nearly absent and a tourismfirst approach (Burns, 2004) was the only model under debate. No distinction is observable in the 1960s’ public debate between property developers and tourism entrepreneurs. In the background, higher land values and competition for land in coastal areas started reversing traditional spatial hierarchies at a regional level. As a consequence, new social and spatial resources in the coastal areas gave rise to a new distribution of the population and of formal and informal economies. A new idea of landscape was imagined, dominated by the newly created Mediterranean style pastiche of the Costa Smeralda villas. Starting from the northeast coast the whole regional shore started to be involved in development projects headed up by foreign capital. But differently from Costa Smeralda, the majority of the new tourism centres grew according to a chaotic and spontaneous geography. The creation of new tourism spaces was the effect of an emulation process involving the Sardinian middle class. Tourism development leads to a reinvention of toponymy. In the reinvention process of historical regions (e.g. from Monti di Mola into Costa Smeralda) new territories and meanings were produced all over the island. The building sprawl configures a strong territorial fragmentation (Price, 1980) and creates a chaotic landscape of buildings expanded yearly. During the mid-1970s, the coastal development model was consolidated and Antonio Cederna (1975) talked about “The new Saracen invasion of Sardinia”, calling for a reaction of the public opinion against the coastal sprawl process, personified by Prince Aga Khan and his creature Costa Smeralda. The dominant discourse of modernization left no room for alternative frameworks of meaning in the general debate, even if some minority voices foresaw high risks and stakes in the emerging tourism phenomenon (Solinas, 1971). In 1976 a Regional law introduced the first coastal conservation measure, strictly banning new buildings within 150 m of the shoreline. Furthermore, the Regional law involved coastal municipalities in the planning process, even if far from suggesting alternative development

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models. For the first time municipalities participated in tourism development planning and elaborating strategic development studies for the coastline in order to take advantage of such a traditionally marginal resource. As a consequence, in the mid-1970s municipalities proposed new building plans for an impressive total of 10 million m3, completely ignoring tourism and environmental carrying capacities (Roggio, 1995). A coalition of interests between landowners, property developers, tourism entrepreneurs and municipalities characterized this development phase. Municipalities’ plans focused more on the localization of property developments, on the amount of building permits granted and on a contingent mediation between the different actor’s requirements rather than on adopting a coherent management strategy. Starting from the 1960s, local elites have been incapable of promoting a critical point of view and an alternative developmental discourse. Both conservatives and leftist parties supported a growth-first discourse based on the attraction of external investments and developers. On the other hand, all throughout the 1960s and 1970s, Unions and radical leftist movements like the Italian Communist Party were late in identifying environmental degradation as a main issue. The leftist approach to development and growth focused more on class struggle priorities and, more largely, on a defence of employment discourse. In a scenario of reduced economic growth, the choice to limit the expansion of the building sector was considered as not reasonable even by those Sardinian autonomist forces that were late in considering the territory as a strategic element of Sardinian national identity. At the beginning of the 1980s the growth vs. development and the backward vs. modernization debate came to the fore together with the theme of the national self-determination of Sardinia and of the antimilitarist campaigning. Interestingly enough, the criticalities of the coastal property development model emerged simultaneously, calling into question the newly planned heavy chemical industry projects. The Costa Smeralda consortium is still the most innovative actor in the regional tourism scenario. In fact, a coastal management plan – ostentatiously called Master Plan – defined new large-scale investments scheduled for the next 20 years. The plan conflicted with Arzachena municipality regulations, reducing by 40% the total amount of cubic metres granted to the consortium and radically supporting the hotels edification instead of villas (Roggio, 1995). In this phase the Regional authority and the Costa Smeralda consortium acted to exclude Sardinian municipalities from the decisional process over the coastline. In 1983 the Regional authority planned new developments of around 6 million m3 in Arzachena, putting up over 700 new hectares of residential area and inverting the strategic

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choice of the municipality to support the hotel sector. Only 15% of planned cubic metres were related to hotel creation, while more than 50% were related to holiday homes and villas (Roggio, 1995). The Arzachena municipality brought the case to court, disputing the expediency of the Regional authority decision and in 1988 the court decided for the municipality, preventing the realization of the Master Plan. Other coastal destinations in Sardinia experienced the same development dynamics. Olbia in the early 1980s was a small city (around 30,000 inhabitants) and the centre of interest of another consortium headed by Silvio Berlusconi planning to develop Olbia 2, a new settlement hosting over 20,000 beds. In 1983 the municipality adopted a regulation granting over 1.2 million m3 to developers. With regional planning strategies and tools still vague and voluntarily poor, the growth rate of the holiday homes sector in Sardinia exceeded 400% between 1970 and 1980 (Roggio, 1995). In the mid-1980s, estimates for new buildings planned by the 68 Sardinian municipalities in the coastline amounted to over 65 million m3. At this point a newly enlarged discourse about the preservation of resources, identity defence, and resistance to the dominance of external capital emerged (Bandinu, 1980). During the 1980s, debate on development started to show an interesting complexity of positions. Traditional leftist parties (Italian Communist Party, Socialist Party etc.) and the environmentalist movements competed to represent the voice of conservationist voters. The two main regional newspapers, L’Unione Sarda and La Nuova Sardegna, together with the regional TV channels orientated the debate. Furthermore, during the 1990s several suspects on trial for Mafia-related crimes confirmed the hypothesis of a strong interest from criminal organizations in financing property development in Sardinia. In the middle of the arena, the Regional Authority and the political class sustaining the Regional government produced different hypotheses of land use regulations. Modifications and discretional agreements on the local scale neutralized the attempt to introduce a coherent regulation on the regional scale. In 1987 the Regional Authority appointed nine technical groups to elaborate land use plans within the national conservation law Galasso, but without an effective coordination between the groups and a coherent political strategy. Inexorably, the results of the nine groups appeared completely different and ineffective to manage the coastal development phenomenon. Highly influential developers (like Silvio Berlusconi and the Italian partners of the Costa Smeralda consortium) used their position on the national stage to force the Sardinian Regional government to reconsider the plan. When in 1993 the Regional law passed, the main .

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coastal conservation tool introduced was the ban on any building within 300 m of the shoreline. No relevant innovations were introduced in the regulation during the 1990s and the start of 2000s. In 2003, after 16 years’ debate, the Regional Administrative Court and the National Administrative Court declared the illegitimacy of 13 out of 14 plans developed, and the attempt to adopt a new coastal regulation eventually failed.

A new discourse on tourism development In June 2004 Renato Soru (founder of the web services provider Tiscali) was elected with over 50% of the preferences as the President of the Regional Government. The first and the most radical change of perspective from the past Regional Governments was represented by the Regional law “for the coast safeguard” passed in November 2004. This temporary regulation stated the prohibition on any new building located within 2000 m of the shoreline, including any elevated areas and sandy dunes, everywhere except for smaller isles where the ban applied to any building within 500 m of the coastline. Even now, this is still the most radical conservation law in the Mediterranean area. For the first time in Italy such a strategy was introduced in a planning tool on a regional scale. In November 2004, the Regional Administrative court rejected a municipalities action against the Regional law “for the coast safeguard”. In December 2004 the National Government led by Silvio Berlusconi (indirectly involved in important property development plans in Sardinia) appealed to the Constitutional Court contesting the constitutional validity of the Regional law under National Government jurisdiction. The legal action was rejected in January 2006. The symbolic value of the act was enormous because it affirmed conservation priorities over building development, reimagining tourism in a co-evolutionary relation with the Sardinian territory. When Soru (2004a) stated, “Tourism development is not selling our land” or “We are not interested in value increase of our land. We are not in competition with international mass tourism flows” (Soru, 2005), the discontinuity with the past tourism development process was at its highest. The spatial concentration processes affecting Sardinian coastline was to be reversed: “We have built villages on the coastline that are ghost towns nine months a year, and to do it we are transforming our millenaries villages in ghost towns too. If we don’t stop this, Sardinia will be soon as like a doughnut with a hole in the middle” (Soru, 2006). On the one hand, no more coastal territories were available for future developments or interventions, safe for conservation and renewal of the existing built stock. On the other hand,

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the connection between tourism and development was challenged. Coastal municipalities have historically looked to foreign developers, trying to attract new investments by a legal framework designed to support tourism development, with no consideration of conservation priorities. Soru aimed to limit growth and upgrade tourism by supporting quality standards and the reuse of the coastal built environment. The idea was to create the conditions for the development of a network of small tourism enterprises, especially inland, where tourism flows are still poor and impacts still reduced (Soru, 2004). In June 2006 a new taxation on holiday homes, yachts and the private aircraft of foreign visitors and non-residents in Sardinia was introduced. The reaction of the glittering world of Costa Smeralda was strong and the visibility of the new political strategy reached its apex in national and EU newspapers. In February 2008 the Constitutional Court partially rejected the act, as far as second house taxation was concerned, but refused to pronounce on the other issues. The creation of a new General Regional Plan was started, and in the first phase the intervention of stakeholders from the entire region and 22 conferences focusing on collaborative planning practices were supported in 2005. In the second phase, some municipalities and the Regional Planning Authority started a confrontation over the provisions of the Plan. The decision-making model refused the traditional search for a continuous compromise and affirmed the primacy of the Regional Plan over the municipalities’ claims by introducing the mandatory adaptation of municipal plans to it. Private companies’ interests were supported only if compatible with public interest as Soru’s government defined it. This affirmation of value was converted in a planning strategy by the creation of new Identity Heritage Goods as a new geographical and identity category. Around a thousand sites were declared as strategic for the conservation of Sardinian identity (Garau, and Pavan, 2010). The new developmental receipt was based on the production of economic value by the development of such a heritage. The emerging resistance of regional and municipal offices toward the implementation of such new conceptual categories included planning documents. In more than one case, public officers were called to adopt and translate new categories into technical instruments, as in the case of Identity Heritage Goods. Municipalities – for the first time – were effectively limited in their opportunity to create value by means of building developments. The planning system banning new buildings everywhere except in those areas identified by the regional authority was one of the strongest tools to affirm the new public interest / conservationist discourse over local municipalities.

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Figure 11.1. Percentage of unoccupied houses on the total, coastal municipalities, 2001. Source: Corsale et al., 2007

From 2009 In the second half of 2008, the process of change initiated by Soru’s government was already weakened by an internal opposition and by the abandonment of some of the government’s key representatives. The government finally resigned in November 2008. The following campaign in 2009 was marked by harsh confrontation, and Soru faced a strong internal opposition, weakening his leadership. Throughout the election campaign Berlusconi spent weekends in Sardinia introducing the coalition candidate Ugo Cappellacci to the media and personally leading an aggressive campaign. All those elements contributed decisively to the political defeat of Soru’s reform project. As a

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consequence, from 2009 municipalities and departments (the Italian Province) negotiated their development projects with a new Regional government that was averse to the philosophy of the Plan. In this phase, according to Renato Soru (2011), the new Regional government headed by Ugo Cappellacci led municipalities to stop adapting urban plans to the General Regional Plan, while promising to abolish it. At the same time, the regional office in charge of the administration of the Plan was closed and economic and policy tools supporting the implementation of the Plan have been slowly reduced or cancelled. In parallel, during the last few years over 1,000 appeals have been presented to different administrative courts against the General Regional Plan, but its structure has been preserved. A harsh debate accompanied the process of revision of the Plan over the years from 2008 to 2012. One of the main criticisms directed at the planning mechanism imagined by Soru was the lack of effectiveness of the participation process. Both municipalities and construction representatives reported that the dominant role of the Regional Authority was the main barrier to participation. Cappellacci’s government in 2009 promoted a participated assessment process of the Plan. In one and a half months (May – June 2009) the process included a first phase in which municipalities and departments (Province) met to define agenda priorities and topics to be debated together with the Regional Government. In a second phase, regional-based conferences grouped representatives of municipalities, departments, professionals associations, economic bodies and unions. The inclusion of local actors into the participatory exercise resulted in the setting of a semi-autonomous, semi-independent participation arena. This framework targeted mainly local elites to declare the integration process of a new vision in the strategy of the regional administration and to build a consensus on it. Finally, during one-day thematic round tables, local stakeholders debated the issues that emerged during the regional conferences. Not surprisingly the attention was mainly devoted to coastal and tourism based development. The results of such a participation process have been presented to the public in a one-day event in June 2009. The introduction of Regional Law n. 4, 2009 provided extraordinary economic support to the construction industry. In the second part of the law, the Regional Government introduced a first reform of the General Regional Plan introducing the idea that periodical revisions on a two-year basis are needed to update the Plan. Individuals and environmental associations against this Regional Law have presented hundreds of appeals to the Constitutional Court and the European Commission, at the moment with no significant results. A constant effort was made to reverse the trend

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in the building sector of the region. The results presented from a sample of 71 Municipalities (RAS, 2013) define a frame of interventions clearly localized in the core areas of the real estate speculations over the past decades. The same areas are late in the adoption of the General Regional Plan regulations. Since mid-2010 the Regional Government has tried to institutionalize the revision process by a programme called Sardegna Nuove Idee (Sardinia New Ideas). The Sardegna Nuove Idee process was presented as a decision-making process marked by clear rules, transparent communication, clearly defining stakeholders’ roles but at the same time avoiding the distance between technical knowledge and local decisionmakers. During the second half of 2010 and until February 2011, local stakeholders debated emerging issues during thematic tables and defined a reduced number of the themes to be integrated in the revision process of the General Regional Plan. During the Sardegna Nuove Idee process the debate on the revision process did not reach the general public. On the contrary, a successful movement of protest emerged in opposition to Regional Law n. 19, 2011, supporting golf sector development, indicated by the defenders of the General Regional Plan as a pretext to allow developers to build holiday homes along the Sardinian coasts. In the second half of 2011, the Italian Government blocked the Regional Law as unconstitutional and conflicting with the General Regional Plan indications. In the same period, the Regional Government waged a campaign in the local newspapers aimed at supporting the revision process, named “Domande & Risposte” (Questions & Answers). The advisability of the initiative was strongly contested, both in terms of costs and for the message contained, defined as biased. In April 2012, Qatar Holding (see www.qatarholding.qa), led by the Emir of Qatar, acquired the Smeralda Holding. The group owns four luxury hotel resorts, a marina with related dockyards, a golf course and controls around 2,300 hectares of undeveloped land on the Costa Smeralda in Sardinia. A development plan estimated at around 550,000 m3 was strongly supported by the Sardinian governor Ugo Cappellacci. Four fiveto seven-star hotels will be built in Costa Smeralda. Furthermore, around 120 luxury villas, a water park, a go-kart track, a conference centre and a training school for tourism managers will be built on three green areas on 2,200 hectares. President Cappellacci described the future Costa Smeralda Parks as an “emotional synthesis between landscape, culture and identity” and it will represent an environmental and landscape upgrade of the whole area. The General Regional Plan provisions will not allow the Qatar

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funded developments, forbidding any new building on untouched areas like Monte Zoppu in Arzachena and some of the other areas involved. Revision of the Plan and the consensus of the Italian Government will be necessary to go further with the new Costa Smeralda project. In the same days as the development plan was announced, the main Italian environmental associations (Italia Nostra, WWF, LIPU and FAI) expressed to the Regional Authorities and to the Ministry of Cultural Heritage their opposition to the new Costa Smeralda plan for not complying with the General Regional Plan and with Article 9 of the Italian Constitution. In this somewhat chaotic context the substantial failure of the strategies developed by Cappellacci to modify the General Regional Plan during the last years pushed the Regional Government to sign a Memorandum of Understanding with the Ministry of Heritage and Culture in March 2013, to regulate the modes of revision of the General Regional Plan. On such a basis, in March 2013 the Regional Government announced the beginning of the revision process of the General Regional Plan to be concluded within the following 7 months, for the part concerning coastal areas, and within nearly a year and a half for the inland areas section. The end of the legislature interrupted the revision process.

Conclusions Sardinia has achieved international success with one of the emerging tourism planning best practices and as a powerful advancement in tourism sustainability implementation. On the other hand, in Sardinia, a heterogeneous opposition to conservation plans grouped tourism entrepreneurs, real estate sector representatives and small municipalities’ mayors. In particular, Soru’s government attempted to shape institutional actions according to a new idea of Sardinian development and a new orientation in coastal tourism development strategies. As far as the conservationist approach supported by the General Regional Plan is concerned, it has animated an interesting scientific debate. Some authors stressed that a more effective cooperative planning process between Regional Authority and municipalities would eventually reduce the level of conflict between the actors (Zoppi and Lai, 2010). On the other hand, many Sardinian municipalities have not reviewed their plans according to the General Regional Plan regulations and the Strategic Environmental Assessment procedure (De Montis et al., 2014). Furthermore, while facing the contemporary economic crisis (Rossi, 2012), the incomplete application of the General Regional Plan’s development philosophy, for political reasons, would have exerted a depressing effect on the levels of

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investment in coastal municipalities(Zoppi and Lai, 2013). At present, the General Regional Plan regulations are still sustaining a harsh debate representing a relevant case study in tourism planning advancement.

References Bandinu, Bachisio. Costa Smeralda. Milan: Rizzoli, 1980. —. “Recenti trasformazioni dell’identità Sarda.”, in L’età contemporanea: Dal governo Piemontese agli anni sessanta del nostro secolo, edited by Massimo Guidetti, 511–531, Milan: Jaca Book, 1990. Burns, Peter M. “Tourism planning: a third way?” Annals of Tourism Research, 31,1, pp. 24-43, 2004. Cederna, Antonio. La distruzione della natura in Italia. Turin: Einaudi, 1975. Corsale, Andrea, Stefano Renoldi, Giovanni Sistu. “Da Monti di Mola a Costa Smeralda. Fatti e luoghi del turismo in Sardegna”. In Vagamondo. Turismo e turisti in Sardegna, edited by Giovanni Sistu, pp. 15-68. Cagliari: CUEC, 2007. De Montis, Andrea, Antonio Ledda, Simone Caschili, Amedeo Ganciu and Mario Barra. “SEA effectiveness for landscape and master planning: an investigation in Sardinia.” Environmental Impact Assessment Review, 47, pp. 1-13, 2014. Denti, Olga. “The Island of Sardinia from Travel Books to Travel Guides.” Textus. English Studies in Italy, 25, 1, pp. 37-49, 2012, accessed April 28th, 2015. www.rivisteweb.it/doi/10.7370/71233. Garau, Chiara and Valentina Pavan. “Regional cultural heritage: new vision for preservation in Sardinia (Italy).” Journal of Landscape Studies, 3, pp. 127-138, 2010. Pittalis, Paola. “Uno sguardo straniero.”, in La Sardegna, vol. 3, edited by Brigaglia, Manlio, Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1988. Price, Richard L. A geography of Tourism Settlement and Landscape on the Sardinian Littoral, PhD. Thesis, University of Oregon, USA. RAS. “Report Sul Monitoraggio Del Piano Casa.” Autonomous Region of Sardinia, 2013, accessed April 28th, 2015. www.sardegnaterritorio.it/documenti/6_476_20131106100413.pdf. Roggio, Sandro. Le ultime spiagge. Florence: Alinea, 1995. —. C’è di mezzo il mare: le coste sarde, merci o beni comuni?. Cagliari: CUEC, 2007. Rossi, Ugo. “There’s no hope: The global economic crisis and the politics of resistance in Southern Europe.” Belgeo, 1-2, 2012, accessed April 28, 2015. http://belgeo.revues.org/7071.

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Solinas, Gian Adolfo. Appunti e osservazioni sul turismo in Sardegna: spunti per una discussione. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1971. Soru, Renato. Electoral campaign speech held in Iglesias, Sardinia, 31st January 2004, 2004. —. Speech to the coastal municipalities mayors held in Alghero, Sardinia, 6th September 2004, 2004a. —. Introductive speech to the first meeting of the Scientific Committee in charge for the definition of the Regional Plan for Territory and Landscape, Cagliari, Sardinia, 27th April 2005, 2005. —. Interview, l’Unità (newspaper), Rome, 11th December 2006, 2006. —. Interview, Gazzetta ambiente, Rivista sull’ambiente e il territorio, 6, pp. 52-54, 2011. Zoppi, Corrado and Sabrina, Lai. “Assessment of the Regional Landscape Plan of Sardinia (Italy): A participatory-action-research case study type.” Land Use Policy, 27, 3, pp. 690-705, 2010. —. “Differentials in the regional operational program expenditure for public services and infrastructure in the coastal cities of Sardinia (Italy) analyzed in the ruling context of the Regional Landscape Plan.” Land Use Policy, 30, pp. 286- 304, 2013.

CHAPTER TWELVE URBAN AREAS: CITIES DO (NOT) EXIST IN SARDINIA MAURIZIO MEMOLI

A (non) urban history “La storia della Sardegna antica non è storia di città” [“The history of ancient Sardinia is not a history of cities”] (Tore, 1982 p. 225). Sardinian settlements represented a clear vocation for the coast in ancient times: Cagliari, Nora, Chia, Sulci, Enosis, Tharros, Cornus were primeval harbours which took on a more significant role in trade during the Carthaginian age, and which, during the Roman age, would push settlement towards the inner areas of the territory. In fact, in a few centuries (between the 6th and the 10th century), some of those towns would be abandoned (Cornus, Tharros, Nora, Bithia, Feronia), while others were established far from the coastline (Oristano, Iglesias, Sassari) (ibid., p. 226). These last ones, together with Cagliari and Oristano, established the very first territorial order, defining the dominant political, military and economic nodes in the countryside, and a first “pacification” between pastures lands and agricultural lands, which were lately codified in the “Codice de logu”. The arrival of Pisans and Genoese built on such framework. Between the 12th and the 14th century, they divided up the island and strengthened the privileges of the cities under their domination, performing a true urbanization phase. Cagliari, Oristano, Sassari, Iglesias and Castelgenovese were embellished with mature urban works (churches, castles, public buildings). Those years also saw the rise of the phenomenon of communes, which reached Sardinian cities, though not all of them, at a much later stage, either despite or thanks to the “foreign” domination (Italian and Iberian). During the “giudicale” (judicatory) age, indeed, Cagliari, Sassari, Iglesias

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and Castelgenovese (and only these, in fact) were provided with municipal self-government systems (Ortu, 1999, p. 11) that had been adopted since they had been annexed by Genoa and Pisa. It was a stage which outlined “il primo telaio urbano dell’isola e segna per sempre il primo impianto urbanistico di Cagliari, Sassari, Iglesias, Bosa, Castelgenovese come indubitabilmente italiano e nell’ordine morale e politico del municipio e nell’ordine mentale ed estetico del romanico” [“the first urban frame of the island and marked as undoubtedly Italian the first urban layer of Cagliari, Sassari, Iglesias, Bosa, Castelgenovese, according to the moral and political order of the municipium and to the mental and aesthetic order of the Romanesque”] (ibid.). But in the remaining territory, behind these four centres, a widespread parcelling of the land persisted, with small proto-urban nodes, mostly rural centres gathered by the seigniorial domain of landed property and agricultural production. The identity and municipal matrix of such a system lasted during the so-called judicatory age, and later during the Spanish (Aragonese and Catalan) age, giving the Sardinian (territorial, political, economic, symbolic, and public) system its competitive, emulative, and parochial nature. High-rank functions were conferred primarily on Sassari and Cagliari, then to all the other towns mentioned above, to which Alghero and Oristano are to be added. It is a matter of a carefully devised “competition”, which led not only to a process of urban and architectural maturity for these cities, but also to the creation of a (exclusive) middle class (or non-aristocratic class), which was fierce and proud, anchored to its city. A parochial localism that favoured devotion to place and root, and which lasted for centuries, recalling a commune-like form of urban belonging, with its political and spatial consequences. Despite these signs of urban belonging, Sardinian cities were closely linked to the productive capacity of the countryside in their immediate outskirts, and, during the Spanish and Piedmontese ages, they did not seem destined for that leap towards “high culture” (cf. le città, p. 21) which could replace the “blind rural practice” giving substance to its existence. To the occupying Piedmontese, Sardinian cities looked “mal costruite, sporche, poco o affatto infrastrutturate, misere e incolte, nel senso di non avvezze alla pratica diffusa di una urbanità matura” [“badly built, dirty, with very little or no infrastructure, poor and uncultivated, in the sense of not-used to a common practice of mature urban practice”] (Piedmontese Anonymous, 1985, quoted in Ortu 1999, p. 18). “Per immemorial tradizione il popolo delle campagne (…) prende tutt’ora il nome della sua città sino al confine d’altro popolo che prende il

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nome d’altra città. In molte provincie è quella solo la patria che il volgo conosce e sente. (…) Questa adesione del contado alla città (…) costituisce una persona politica, uno stato elementare (suo il corsivo), permanente e indissolubile.” [“Due to a long-time tradition, country people (...) are still named after the name of their town as far as the border with another people, who takes the name after the other town. In many provinces, that name is the only homeland that the populace knows and hears. (...) This adhering of country folks to the town (...) creates a political person, and elementary state (in the writer’s italics) which is permanent and indissoluble”]. When Carlo Cattaneo (1972, p. 11) wrote these words, Italy was not united yet. Nonetheless, his description still seems deeply grounded and definitive nowadays, and it corroborates the thesis that at the bottom of the republican nation territorial organization – as well as in the previous kingdom – belonging to a city, to a metropolitan space, represents the pivot around which the inalienable logic, dynamics, and spatial stasis of our geography revolve. This is true both in the stages of a greater urban supremacy over all the other forms of structuring administrative power cuts, and in the stages when the debate pushes towards new political and economic organizations (either infra-, intra-, super-, or hyper-regional). The absence of a manifest practice of modern urbanity – and not only in Sardinia – is supported by the choice made by the Savoy Crown to foster agrarian re-bundling, which drives the cities – even the largest ones – to integrate rural spaces and arboreous cultivation in their proximity within their boundaries, so as to reinstate the domination of urban centres over the near outskirts, within an agricultural context supporting the traditional power of a few urban families over the countryside. In 19th century Sardinia the urban political control stood out against a poor agropastoral inland, isolated and scattered in small and tiny countries connected to capital cities by a slow and complicated network, made of small roads covered by the power of minimal local intermediaries. As the cities grew nearer, vegetable gardens became richer and more opulent, just like the factories that were placed in the first belts, which were financed by capital from Liguria, Lombardy, France, and by a few families who were pushing – in the newly unified Italy – towards transformation, in cities that were still untouched by industrial events (Boggio, 1987 and 1999; Sechi, 1999; Della Marmora, 1926).

An urban geography In modern times, the polarity of Sassari and Cagliari marked territorial balances and imbalances through a functional, gravitational, political,

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symbolic division innervating the regional space. Such “territorial equity” between north and south coincides with the distribution of functions between the two cities, with the cultural and political history between the 19th and the 20th century, of both its settlement and the territorial policies adopted mostly during the Savoy age and later on during the republican age. Until the second post-war period, indeed, a widespread “urban effect” was not detected, rather it could be reduced to the simple duplication of directional and economic functions connected to the most crucial sectors (as the designer of the Royal Road “Carlo Felice”, Giovanni Antonio Carbonazzi, remarked in his 1832 report: “Fra le due principali città, fra Cagliari e Sassari […] non havvi che corrispondenza personale e d’impieghi; niun traffico diretto si fa fra queste due città, che distano le cento miglia, perché l’una e l’altra […] sono ugualmente provviste del bisognevole. Le manifatture, le derrate coloniali vi vengono e nell’una e nell’altra direttamente da stranj paesi; dunque una comunicazione sola fra Cagliari e Sassari se non inutile, almeno è poco necessaria…” [“Between Cagliari and Sassari, the two main cities, [...] there is just a personal and work exchange; no direct trade is performed between these two cities, which are 100 miles distance from each other, because both are equally provided with the necessary. Manufactures and colonial produce come to both straight from other towns; therefore, one single way of communication between Cagliari and Sassari, if not useless at all, is indeed very little needed...”]) (Memoli, Boggio, Brundu, 2007). If not just in these terms, such remarks can be considered true until the 1970s, when the conditions for a substantial non-difference between the northern area of Sassari and the southern area of Cagliari arose (Figures 12.1 and 12.2). The duopoly between Sassari and Cagliari is manifest in the concentration of main functions as seen in the peaks in Figure 12.1, indicating administration, schools, trade, banks, hospitals, and level of attracted population, highlighting how Sardinia is split into two great functional areas, separated by the belt of non-difference as marked within Bosa, Macomer, Nuoro and Siniscola. This is confirmed by the population map (on the right), reporting the weight of the two cities and, above all, the weight of their outskirts (of Cagliari in particular), significantly gathering the movement of a regional population, which is moreover growing on a general basis (Figure 12.3). On the “borders” of Cagliari and Sassari, some urban realities of local significance emerge, placed at a more or less significant distance from each other, tying together trades between pastoral and agricultural or mining territories. Olbia, Nuoro, Oristano, Carbonia and Iglesias are nodes

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offering basic tertiary functions in more or less large and continuous areas, and are capable of gathering public offices, schools, hospitals, residential areas, trade, etc. (Figure 12.3). A third rank of small centres dot a difficult to access territory, thinly populated, with largely insufficient infrastructural and communication systems, such as Tempio Pausania, Ozieri, Guspini, Lanusei, Tortolì, etc. But then, in the 1950s and 1960s, Cagliari and Sassari marked – although in a disorganized and haphazard way – greater growth rates, which were even more accelerated if compared to the overall population. It was a phenomenon happening on a general basis in the south of Italy (the emptying of the bone towards the flesh, as in the fortunate and well-known definition provided by Manlio Rossi Doria), which characterized spaces with still immature urban functions, but that were attractive in terms of workplaces, housing, services, functions. Just like a great part of the south of Italy, which in those years was still prevailingly rural (Compagna, 1983), the cities of Sardinia, too, lack supra-regional political functions, and accumulation processes of economic and social capital, capable turnoff turning rural rents into industrial experiences or non-assisted non-endogenous modernization, or towards (speculative) land and building investments. Relative trends shown in Figure 12.3 clearly express the diversity of the various courses within the islands: of the four “historical” provincial main cities (Cagliari, Sassari, Nuoro, Oristano); of the total amount of municipalities above ten thousands inhabitants in 1951; and of that same amount as of single censuses. The gap is clear between regional population, growing little during the fifty year period, and its urban population, which experienced fast increase between 1951 and 1981, substantially mirroring the difference between the decline in agricultural workers (non-urban dwellers) and the increase in secondary and tertiary sector workers (in particular from the 1960s). Until 1981, political and administrative functions conditioned urban concentration at least as much as the basic tertiary sector did: Cagliari, Sassari and Nuoro attracted population thanks to labour demand and better life conditions (growth of credit, trade, granted public services, education, healthcare, etc.). In the capital city, which was significantly wounded by bombings, construction boomed, in connection with the reconstruction and expansion of a residential market, in itself driven by the institution of Regione Autonoma della Sardegna – the Sardinian Autonomous Government (1947) – and by industrial experiences.

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Figure 12.3. Sardinia. Evolution of the population. Index numbers (1951=100) Source: Memoli, Boggio, Brundu, 2007

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Small metropolitan centres In order to take a picture – albeit dynamic – of urban Sardinia, some territorial highlights can be spotted: the growth of the Cagliari area and the substantial stability of the growth of the Sassari area; the suffering of inland cities (Nuoro, Oristano, Iglesias, Carbonia); and the northeast coastal urbanization around Olbia, where, in the last 40 years, the highest growth peaks have been recorded (see Table 12.1). Census year Cagliari Sassari Quartu Sant’Elena Olbia Alghero Nuoro Oristano Carbonia Selargius Iglesias Assemini Porto Torres Monserrato Tempio Pausania Ozieri Bosa

1981 197,517 118,631 43,896 30,787 36,508 35,779 29,424 32,180 18,245 30,119 16,830 20,990 22,131 13,426 11,039 8,602

1991 183,659 122,339 61,636 41,095 39,026 37,527 30,990 32,887 23,237 30,134 20,491 21,264 20,578 13,899 11,830 8,518

2001 164,249 120,729 68,040 45,366 38,404 36,678 31,169 30,447 27,440 28,170 23,973 21,064 20,829 13,992 11,334 7,935

2011 149,883 123,782 69,296 53,307 40,641 36,674 31,155 28,882 28,684 27,674 26,620 22,391 20,449 13,946 10,881 8,026

Table 12.1. Population trends in Sardinian municipalities with population above 20,000 and in selected historical towns. Source: ISTAT census CAGLIARI - The regional capital city is experiencing counterurbanization, losing inhabitants at medium-high rate: from 190,000 of 1981 (all-time high), to 149.000 of 2011 (a loss only partly justified by some administrative splits that happened in the 1990s), to the benefit of its belts, which, in turn, showed a generalized growth in connection with the capital-city effect, taking population above 400,000 inhabitants, including

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a third belt with rural-urban features. The first years of the current century gathered in the Cagliari area a population representing one third of the total regional population (1,663,000), a prelude to structuring a mature and complex metropolitan area (see Table 12.2). Municipality

Population

Assemini

26,620

Capoterra

23,255

Cagliari

149,883

Decimomannu

7,831

Elmas

8,949

Maracalagonis

7,523

Monserrato

20,449

Pula

7,141

Quartu Sant’Elena

69,296

Quartucciu

12,825

Sarroch

5,198

Selargius

28,684

Sestu

19,893

Settimo San Pietro

6,532

Sinnai

16,730

Villa San Pietro

2,009

Total population

412,818

Table 12.2. Population in the municipalities of Cagliari area (2011). Source: ISTAT census This has been the main territorial highlight since the 1950s-1970s, and an inevitable imbalance is implied by such an expansion inside the regional urban framework. The building continuum unfolds according to the main arterial roads of such a radial pattern: eastward, in particular towards Quartu Sant’Elena, in seamless continuity with the city of Cagliari and its huge dormitory suburb (Boggio, 2002a); from the east to the west in the closer belt - Quartucciu, Selargius, Monserrato, Elmas, autonomous municipalities, or hamlets turned into municipalities. A second belt is

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located across the junctions of the main national roads (SS130 and SS131), where a dense built-up area is reported, with the industrial, craft, and residential structural character of the municipalities of Sestu, Decimomannu, Uta, Assemini, and, slightly more remote, Capoterra. A little further, Maracalagonis, Sinnai, and Settimo San Pietro, on the hilly borders of the low-eastern Campidano, and, along the western branch of the gulf, Sarroch, Pula, and Villa San Pietro, and their weird contradictory mixture of tourism and oil industry, are located. In its entirety, the agglomerate grew from a total amount of 191,000 inhabitants in 1951, to 410,000 inhabitants in 2011, with a volume of residents representing around the 25% of the total amount of island residents (around 15% in 1951). SASSARI – At the other end of the region, the gravitational area of Sassari has experienced a notable steadiness of residential, economic, and political weight. We consider the municipalities of the first outer belt of the city (Sorso, Sennori, Ossi, Tissi, Muros, Cargeghe, Osilo, Usini), for a total amount of 167,000 inhabitants, and the urban areas of Alghero (43,400 in 2013, up from 38,000 in 2001), Porto Torres (22,400, up from 21,000 in 2001) in the west, and Ozieri (11,000) in the east. Tourism municipalities of the province of Sassari are growing: Alghero, Sorso, Castelsardo, Sennori, and Stintino. The Sassari area is gradually evolving towards a model of “multipolar” attraction, and ends up soldering the triangle connecting it to Porto Torres and Alghero. The three cities are growing at resolutely steady rates, from a total amount of 100,000 inhabitants in 1951, to 193,000 in 2013, thus condensing in the northwest cusp 11.6% of island population (up from 7.8% in 1951). The causes for this scenario are connected with territorial specialization, attracting people thanks to the basic tertiary functions in Sassari (public administration, trade, public services, etc.), while in Alghero tourism activities and the related sectors are growing (construction, transportation, etc.), which tentatively appear to slow down the crisis of the industrial activities in Porto Torres. On the one hand, this port city aims, though experiencing difficulties, to trade with the north of the Mediterranean Sea; on the other hand, Alghero has proven itself in its role of a true tourism pole. NUORO – The capital city of the homonymous province shows overall stability, with 37,000 inhabitants, and an opposite movement, if compared to the whole territory of the province. Apparently, in their connection to an urban status which has strong cultural and identity roots, the functions of the main city seem to be still able to sustain the attraction exercised by the

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tourism coastal territory, which is polarized in the area of Olbia. The function of the sub-regional market of Nuoro, placed at the crossroads of the main central-eastern Sardinian natural and trade routes, acts as a stimulus for the concentration into the city from the nearby agropastoral centres (Boggio, 2003). The urban features of a “recent” city (it was raised to the urban status in 1836, with a decree by King Carlo Alberto) were confirmed when it became the capital city of the province in 1927 (when fascism tended to control the restless disobedience of the subregion by providing it with political and administrative functions and endowing it with clear rationalist architectural features), and by a thriving cultural production, both cultivated and grass-roots. OLBIA – In the sixty years between 1951 and 2011, northeast Sardinia was marked by an unprecedented transformation within its boundaries, which elevated the city of Olbia as a node of the re-territorialisation of the coastal space in the Gallura area. The town grew from 14,745 residents in 1951 to 30,787 in 1981, then to 53,300 in 2011, within a long-standing phenomenon, in connection with tourist dynamics of the area, accounting for the growth of other small municipalities north of the city (Golfo Aranci, Arzachena, Palau, Santa Teresa Gallura: from 9,500 in 1951, to more than 15,900 in 1981, to 22,500 in 2011) and south of the city (Budoni, San Teodoro, Loiri Porto San Paolo, Posada, Siniscola, which overall grew from 11,800 inhabitants in 1951 to 17,700 in 1981, and to 28,600 in 2011), on average exceeding 113,000 inhabitants, distributed in a linear city of 100 km on the coast, including the 11,000 inhabitants of La Maddalena. The vitality of the Olbia-Golfo Aranci airport system, around which all the northeast of the island is increasingly moving, displays the sense of a true boom of tourism and of its connected services, despite their seasonal nature and the connected temporary residences, proving the transformation of a new urban territoriality in terms of functions, practices, costs, and usage of space and landscapes. ORISTANO – A limited rhythm marked the second half of the 20th century for Oristano. A market town, just like Nuoro, for its vast countryside it experienced years of growth in connection with the maturity of its agriculture, passing from 16,300 inhabitants in 1951 to 29,500 in 1981, to 31,000 in 2011. Thanks to its strengthened administrative functions, due to its becoming capital city of the province in 1974, the city showed size, growth, and functions mirroring minor and outer territories, also concerning territorial relations involving pastoral farming and

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agriculture. The city experienced urban growth in correlation with the overall emptying of its related areas of influence, where municipalities placed on the border, and in outer belts more or less close to urban areas, lost their inhabitants in favour of the bigger centre (Boggio, 2002d). IGLESIAS – The southwest quadrant of the island is genetically tied to its history as a great mining district, and it witnessed the development of its two cities, Iglesias and Carbonia, both of them mining cities, albeit different from each other. In the Middle Ages, the ancient Villa di Chiesa was a royal town enjoying the advantages and the autonomy deriving from its status. The city of silver is the node of a rich territory, which over the centuries marked its development and complex transformations, even partly encouraged from outside the island, and connected to the mining of ore deposits (Boggio, 2002b). While erasing the fortunes of deposit mining, which directed its civil and structural development, starting from the second post-war period, the crisis of the ore market caused the stagnation of its related functions, and the inevitable decline of the role of the city, which has lived in a prolonged stage of economic and political crisis marked by the loss of its inhabitants (from 26,000 in 1951, to 30,000 in 1981, to 27,000 in 2011). CARBONIA – Carbonia, if compared to Fertilia and Arborea, is the most significant episode in the epic fascist deeds of urban foundation in Sardinia. It was built in a few years by 1938 during autarky (established after the sanctions inflicted on Mussolinian Italy by the League of Nations in view of having attacked Ethiopia) at the heart of the Sulcis coalfield, and it developed during the war economy. Inevitably, it was not long before it started to suffer from the end of its single mining function in the years immediately after, thus showing a progressive loss of functions, centrality, and inhabitants, who were more than 45,000 in 1951, then 32,000 in 1981, and 28,800 in 2011. Carbonia shows the limits of pompous grandeur of regime urbanisms, and its existence conditioned by the connection with the native “vocation” that had been imposed on it. However, it represents the injection of a rank of urbanism pushed towards modernity from rationalist styles, and their counterbalancing monumental bleakness.

One hundred cities, one city Just like peninsular Italy, and despite the many differences, the model of the “one hundred cities” (Dematteis, 1987) seems capable of decoding

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the Sardinian interior space, too, which in stages was caged in a debate marked by the parochialism of notable small and local power. This sank first into the various episodes of provincialism during the Mussolinian era of fascism and corporations, then it sank in front of the regionalist needs of the accelerated development of the post-war boom, until the new fanciful macro autonomies of the republic, always contemplated but still unachieved. The urban skeleton of Sardinia is structured around some polarities supplying a widespread, seamless, and small-sized fabric. It is an urban framework atoning for the processes of high fragmentation and dysfunctionality, starting from the relations with the main cities and their closer gravitational centres, marginal areas, peri-urban “middle-earth” subjected to a high usage of space. Starting from the first post-war decade, Sardinian cities (just like many Italian cities) experienced a period of accelerated expansion, though altogether irregular and chaotic. The urban laissez-faire dominating the Italian peninsula was met with the same success in the island, accompanied by the economic stimulus of an industrialization which was increasingly considered inevitable, and with related urbanization rates. On the one hand, the concentration of industries and of the tertiary sector in urban and coastal areas is encouraged; on the other hand, nothing is being done to prevent the abandonment of inland rural and pastoral areas. It is a process that accounts for the lack of an effective urban regulation, and the logical consequence of the absence of a global vision in the organization of the territory for a country (and a region) dedicated to an almost religious belief in the growth boost of the economic boom. Since the 1950s, however, an agreement between public and parapublic bodies (politicians, functionaries, authorities, banks, institutions) and the great capital (public and private) has emerged: an alliance aiming to become the drivers of economic development and of the social evolution of the country. “Alcune affermazioni ideologiche sono grandiose” [“some ideological assertions are grand”], but their result on a territorial, social, and urban ground is strikingly poorer, if not disastrous: “le speculazioni e lo sviluppo della proprietà immobiliare (produrre una rendita fondiaria attraverso l’edificazione lucrativa rapida e a bassi costi) erano le dinamiche principali dell’industria edilizia, uno dei settori più importanti dell’accumulazione del capitale” [“speculation and the development of real estate (producing non-market land rent through quick and low-cost lucrative building) were the main dynamics of construction, one of the most important sectors as far as accumulation of capital was concerned”] (Harvey, 1993, p. 94).

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A double movement took shape, whereby, beyond the disproportionate construction in the outskirts (both urban and tourism), a waste of space is produced, which indelibly marked both the peninsular and the insular territory, and, moreover, inner urban centres are emptied, e.g. the degradation of historical centres in Cagliari and, particularly, in Sassari. Those were the years when the foundation of the Sardinian and Italian urban landscape was laid: oversized outskirts in relation to economic and demographic growth, which were disproportionate from the point of view of the territorial balance, and poor as far as infrastructural, urban, and socio-economic services were concerned; ugly outskirts on an architectural level; and problem areas on a social level (Is Mirrionis, Sant’Elia, Cep, but also middle-class ones, just to mention Cagliari alone), which accounts for the state of neglect in which the ancient urban monumental and nonmonumental heritage was left (the old Castello, Stampace, Marina and Villanova districts in Cagliari, the historical centres in Sassari, Iglesias, and Nuoro) (Memoli, 2006, p. 51). Paradoxically, the model of economic development (industrial and tourism) of post-war Sardinia seemed almost premonitory of the aggressive localist logic of the 1980s and 1990s, which privileged (albeit from a perspective which is no longer functionalist, rather delocalizing and flexible) the many-sided and diverse nature of local situations. It was a process that led wide political and cultural sectors to converge on the idea that the same regional identity is rooted in the privilege of municipal civilizations (of both small and big cities), and that represents the richness of the original connective tissue. The identity of a regional space rooted in episodes of extreme industrialization (Cagliari-Sarroch-Assemini, Sassari-Porto Torres, Carbonia, Ottana, Tortolì, etc.) found its equivalent at the end of the previous century in the logic of micro-space, of the campanile, i.e. of localism, which represented the matrix of rebirth, also thanks to the rearrangement of local institutions, i.e. the multiplication of the number of provinces established in 2001 and operational since 2005 (Conti S., 1987, p. 336; Bellino et alii, in print., Cattedra, Memoli, Puttilli, 2013). Actually, by critically observing the last twenty years, it is clear that the local debate was not linear, so that, after a lengthy development, it confirms its crisis of legitimacy, if not even a resolute downsizing on a regional and insular scale. It is a matter of a “trajectory of the local”, which is coherent with the idea that geographical scales do not represent fixed a-priori levels, rather they are the outcome of more or less intentional and explicit processes of social construction imposed from above and/or built from below. The relevance and effectiveness of the

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local for political, economic, and administrative action turn out to be subject both to existing processes, and to the discourse related to it and to its representations. “Entrato nel territorio che ha Eutropia per capitale, il viaggiatore vede non una città ma molte, di eguale grandezza e non dissimili tra loro, sparse per un vasto e ondulato altopiano. Eutropia è non una ma tutte queste città insieme”. [“Once entered the territory that has Eutropia as its capital city, the traveller does not see one city, but many, of the same size and not diverse from each other, scattered onto a vast and undulated plateau. Eutropia is not one, but all these cities together”]. Invisible cities, by Calvino, is frequently quoted in many texts of urban geography, but the description of Eutropia is pertinent to the mind of those who look at urban Sardinia and describe its structure, wanting to discover some meaning, or to single out its most important features. As in other areas of the Italian territory, urban Sardinia highlights the need to rule and design territories crossing over the administrative boundaries of local authorities (however, they are under elimination), and to face the regulation of the effects of a post-Fordist metropolization and the spontaneous character of the conception, maintenance, and management of environmental services and of the networks, of the material and immaterial infrastructures, of a management which has been opportunistic and myopic, and let to free enterprise of single, minimal territorial contexts. The cities of Sardinia are many; they are small and big, diffuse and hidden; there are big non-cities, nodes of small and intense urbanization (rural, agricultural, industrial, trade, episcopal, tourist, social, popular, cultural, festive, intimate and collective, maritime and mountainous, etc.). They offer themselves as beautiful and not beautiful, cheerful and abused, entertained and loved, in a vast territory, which still holds its balance.

References Anonimo Piemontese. Descrizione dell’isola di Sardegna, edited by Francesco Manconi, Comune di Cagliari, 1985. Baldacci, Osvaldo. I nomi regionali della Sardegna, Pubblicazioni dell’Istituto di Geografia dell’Università di Firenze, Florence, 1945. Bellino, Luigi, Raffaele Cattedra, Maurizio Memoli, Matteo Puttilli. “Les enjeux de la gouvernance urbaine en Italie: les Città Metropolitane en question”, in Gouvernances des territoires urbains: Enjeux, acteurs, échelles. Regards croisés, edited by Claude De Miras, in press, 2015. Brigaglia, Manlio (Ed.). La Sardegna. Enciclopedia, vol. I. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1982. In particularly: “Demografia e assetto del

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territorio”, di M.L. Sini; “Cagliari” di F. Artizzu; “Sassari” di S. Tola; “Nuoro” di R. Turtas; “Oristano” F. C. Casula; “Alghero” di A. Trova; “Bosa” di A. Mastinu; “Carbonia” M. G. Pinna; “Iglesias” G. Mossa; “Olbia” E. Tognotti; “Porto Torres” F. Villedieu. Boggio, Francesco. “La Sardegna, ovvero la modernizzazione difficile”, edited by Lida Viganoni, Percorsi a Sud. Geografie e attori nelle strategie regionali del Mezzogiorno. Turin: Fondazione Giovanni Agnelli, 1999. —. “Cagliari: la cerniera si è rotta”, L’Universo, LXXXII, n. 2, pp. 148162, 2002a. —. “Iglesias, orfana dell’Iglesiente”, L’Universo, LXXXII, n. 3, pp. 292308, 2002b. —. “Le città sarde: un passato che pesa, un futuro incerto”, L’Universo, LXXXII, n. 1, pp. 4-20, 2002c. —. “Oristano. Campagna, fiume, mare”, L’Universo, LXXXII, n. 5, pp. 580-597, 2002d. —. “Núoro. Il secolo lungo, il secolo breve”, L’Universo, LXXXIII, n. 5, pp. 596-618, 2003. Boggio, Francesco, Roberto Pracchi, Angela Asole Terrosu. Atlante economico della Sardegna. Milan: Jaka Book, 1987. Cattaneo, Carlo. La città come principio, edited by Manlio Brusanti, Polis, Venice: Marsilio Editore, 1972 (1858). Cattedra, Raffaele, Maurizio Memoli, Matteo Puttilli. “L’ascesa e la crisi del locale: dalla riscoperta degli anni Novanta alla politica dell’austerità”, Politiche per il territorio (guardando all’Europa), edited by Ugo Rossi, Carlo Salone. Rome: Rapporto annuale della Società Geografica Italiana, pp. 37-50, 2013. Compagna, Francesco. Appunti di Geografia Urbana, Quaderni della Facoltà di Scienze Politiche, Università di Napoli. Naples: Giannini Editore, 1983. Costa, Mario, Carlo Da Pozzo. “Aree di attrazione dei centri maggiori”, edited by Roberto Pracchi, Angela Terrosu Asole, Atlante della Sardegna, fasc. II. Rome: Kappa, pp. 180-181, 1980. Conti, Sergio, Fabio Sforzi. “Il sistema produttivo italiano” in Geografia politica delle regioni italiane, edited by Pasquale Coppola. Turin: Einaudi, 1987. Della Marmora, Alberto. Viaggio in Sardegna, Fondazione il Nuraghe, Cagliari, 1926. Dematteis, Giuseppe. “Il tessuto delle cento città” in Geografia politica delle regioni italiane, edited by Pasquale Coppola. Turin: Einaudi, 1987.

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Gentileschi, Maria Luisa. “Bilancio migratorio”, in Atlante della Sardegna, edited by Roberto Pracchi Angela Terrosu Asole, fasc. II. Rome: Kappa, pp. 207-215, 1980. Harvey, David. La crisi della modernità. Milan: Il Saggiatore; (orig. ed. The Condition of Postmodernity, Blackwell, Oxford 1990), 1993. Memoli, Maurizio. “Volonté, spéculation et occasions dans la rehabilitation des centres-villes en Italie”, in Le Pari urbain en Amérique latine. Vivre dans le centre des villes, edited by Maurizio Memoli and Helène Rivière d’Arc. Paris: Armand Colin, 2006. Memoli, Maurizio, Francesco Boggio, Bruna Brundu. “Le città della Sardegna: dal bipolarismo alla rete della multifocalità”, In Il Mezzogiorno delle città. Tra Europa e Mediterraneo, edited by Lida Viganoni. Milan: FrancoAngeli, pp. 307-339, 2007. Memoli, Maurizio, Francesco Boggio, Ugo Rossi. “Attori locali e strategie di sviluppo urbano a Cagliari. La contesa sulla portualità”, in Il Mezzogiorno delle città. Dinamiche, politiche e attori edited by Rosario Sommella. Milan: FrancoAngeli, pp. 141-156, 2009. —. “L’ineguale distribuzione territoriale dei servizi”, in: Gli svantaggi dei comuni sardi, AA.VV. Trento: Tangram Edizioni Scientifiche, pp. 5363, 2011. Memoli, Maurizio, Raffaele Cattedra. “Un « contre-lieu » d’urbanité marginale. L’exemple du quartier de Sant’Elia (Cagliari)”, in Marges urbaines et néolibéralisme en Méditérranée, editied by Nora Semmoud, Bénédicte Florin, Olivier, Legros Florence Troin. Tours: PUFR/Presses Universitaires François Rabelais, pp. 125-144, 2014. Memoli, Maurizio, Matteo Puttilli. “Prove di neoliberismo. Progetti urbanistici e micro-pratiche urbane a Cagliari, Les Cahiers de CoST, in press, 2015. Mura, Gianni, Antonello Sanna (Eds.). Paesi e città della Sardegna vol. II - LE CITTÀ, in particular: “Le identità storiche. Città e Campagna” by G. G. Ortu; “Architettura e città” by A. Sanna; “Il ceto politico”, by Manlio Brigaglia; “Reti di città e processi di modernizazione” by S. Tagliagambe; “Città e Industria” by S. Sechi; “Cagliari” by E. Corti; “Sassari” by E. Cenami; “Alghero” by G. Peghin e E. Zoagli; “Oristano” by R. Sanna; “Iglesias” by Marco Cadinu; “Nuoro” by S. L. Arru and N. Pigozzi; “Olbia” by M. D. Pippia; and “La vicenda fondativa in epoca fascista” by A. Lino. Cagliari: CUEC, 1999. Rudas, Nereide. L’emigrazione sarda. Rome: Centro studi emigrazione, 1974. Senn, Lanfranco, Flavio Boscacci (Eds.). Luoghi urbani. Nodi e reti per l’innovazione e la sostenibilità. Florence: Editore SEAT, 1997.

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Tore Gianfranco, “Città e territorio”, in La Sardegna. Enciclopedia, edited by Manlio Brigaglia, vol. I. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1982.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ECONOMIC OUTLOOK: A “MISSED OPPORTUNITY” MARCO SIDERI AND STEFANO USAI

A short analytical note Recent contributions to the theoretical and empirical literature on economic growth have investigated why cross-country and cross-region differences in per capita GDP have increased over time rather than converged to zero as predicted by Neo-Classical models (Solow, 1954). The main rationale for this unfulfilled prediction is that technological change is not a public good available to all countries and regions and, thus, its production and diffusion is not a costless and smooth process. The endogenous growth models of Romer (1990), Grossman and Helpman (1991), Aghion and Howitt (1992) have therefore assumed that growth is mainly due to a society’s capacity for creating and introducing appropriate new ideas while voluntarily promoting technological progress. The analytical paradigm is radically altered: tangible factors for growth, such as land, capital and labour, are now less crucial than intangible factors, such as human capital, knowledge and ideas. Factors and phenomena are characterized by externalities and increasing returns, in contrast to decreasing returns typical of Neo-Classical models. These factors help to explain part of the divergence across countries, but they are not able to offer a compelling rationale for the absence of factor accumulation or technology adoption even when these are feasible. According to Acemoglu et al. (2004), this may happen because of the barriers to adoption caused by institutional framework, made of laws and cultural habits, which model the economic incentives investing in physical and human capital and most importantly in technologies. Differences between institutions and increasing returns are the basic roots of some processes of cumulative causation, which can lead either to

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virtuous or vicious cycles (Myrdal, 1957). Being in the former or in the latter is not independent from the places of consumption and production, since technological externalities, culture and institutions have a strong geographical component. According to the New Economic Geography (Baldwin and Martin, 2004), this implies that regions investing in research and innovation in a favourable social and institutional context become more and more attractive and dynamic thanks to knowledge accumulation. The opposite applies to regions where social and cultural institutions do not offer the right incentives for investment in intangible factors. The world becomes polarized with a vital and creative centre and a periphery sentenced to chase it. This analytical setting shapes the scenario within which we have to appraise the case of the Sardinian economy, its endogenous capacity to innovate and its ability to absorb external knowledge within an institutional and social landscape, which has been shaped by its remote as well as its more recent history.

A medium-long run perspective Immediately after the Second World War Sardinia was a very poor region with a large rural economy, associated with a relatively sizable industrial sector based mainly on mining. A large number of the population (one out of five people) was still illiterate, poverty was widespread and basic infrastructures, such as roads, schools and hospitals, were either completely missing or very modest. The economic and social landscape has changed dramatically since then, and Sardinia, together with the whole Italian economy, has managed to improve its welfare and its productivity significantly. Nonetheless, this progress has been relatively modest in terms of convergence: the process of Sardinia (and Southern Italy, or Mezzogiorno) catching up in comparison with the centre-north was shortlived and limited to the period from 1960 to 1975. Starting from the mid1970s, inequalities across the Italian regions increased again and the Sardinian economic pace first slowed down, and later stopped altogether (see Paci and Saba, 1998). According to Sapelli (2014), the Sardinian experience can be defined as a “missed opportunity”, due to its incomplete and ineffective industrial development. If we look at more recent statistics, Sardinian growth compared to the rest of Italy and, most importantly, to Europe, has been negligible: Sardinian income per capita was around 80% of the European average in the eighties and it is still around 80% thirty five years later, though in an enlarged Europe.

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To answer the obvious question – why has Sardinia not succeeded in improving its relative position during the last twenty five years? – we can resort to a quasi-experiment. In other words, we can juxtapose the case of Sardinia with that of the southern and eastern region of Ireland, which had almost the same income per capita of Sardinia at the end of the eighties, whilst nowadays it has roughly two-thirds more.49 What were the differences between Sardinian and Irish fundamentals back in the eighties? And how have such fundamentals been influenced and shaped by the strategies of the two regions? Obviously, the basic difference between the two regions rests on the fact that while Sardinia is a peripheral economy (the destiny of which is mainly shaped by the Italian government), southern and eastern Ireland is the main region, out of two, in the country, which hosts the capital and all the main political and economic resources. However, there are other important differences, which, in the light of the concepts outlined above, may have determined such a profound divergence in the development paths of the two regions. One of the most striking ones relates to the availability of a primary production factor in the two regions: human capital. In Sardinia, thirty years ago there were only 6 graduates for every 100 people in the workforce, whilst in Ireland there were more than double that: 14. During those years Ireland has become the so-called “Celtic Tiger”, mainly thanks to the presence of a large pool of young educated and proficient university graduates. This was certainly one of the two crucial pillars within a strategy of “industrialization by invitation”, which aimed at selectively targeting foreign investment in high-technology growth industries, initially in computer production, but later expanding to include software and services. The other pillar was based on a favourable environment in terms of grants and taxes coupled with an institutional and cultural context which made investment in the country relatively easy and safe. Finally, the large concentration of internationally oriented firms provided the usual advantages of “clustering” in similar or related activities within a region. This helped to produce a demonstration effect that created important cumulative effects as well. Sardinia, on the contrary, experienced a process of “induced industrialization” as a result of the implementation of the “Piano di Rinascita”, based on the big plants of the petrochemical sector and other heavy industries, which have not favoured an endogenous process of diffused growth. Most importantly, this process has created a system dependent on the public sector and on a decision-making process severely

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manipulated by political parties and their short sighted need to create and maintain their consensus, rather than a vision oriented to long term growth (Scroccu, 2014). As a result, Sardinia has not managed to develop an economic system truly rooted in its territory and its comparative advantages, a system able to overcome its historical fragilities. Instead there is a fragmented agricultural world and an industrial system mainly based on the mining sector, technologically advanced but outward oriented, and therefore unable to have any real and robust impact on the local manufacturing firms. Moreover, the Sardinian manufacturing sector has always been based on many, probably too many, small enterprises incapable of exploiting any minimal economies of scale, either internal or external, due to the low density of population which characterizes the whole territory of Sardinia (Paci, 1997). These structural historical conditions come together with a low endowment of human capital, not only in terms of graduates (as seen above) but also with respect to many other indicators. In Sardinia, for example, the number of pupils who leave school without achieving the upper secondary level has long been (and still is) well above the Italian average and one of the worst ones even among southern regions. At the same time, political authorities have not managed to express a clear vision to overcome the model of “induced industrialization” and to act selectively towards specific activities and sectors for a sustainable development. According to Pigliaru (2009), this feature is common to the whole Mezzogiorno, where the disappointing absence of sustained convergence of southern with respect to northern regions is due more to the quality of public intervention, rather than to the quantity of the resources involved, which have been similar to other contexts. As a matter of fact, it is clear that the politically determined industrial investment helped a process of relative convergence (experienced in Sardinia as much as in the rest of Mezzogiorno) but also that this had already vanished by the end of the seventies. Most importantly, Mauro and Pigliaru (2012) argue that the real persistent inheritance of that strategy, together with institutional changes, for the labour market and for the regional governance system has been a cumulative process going from historical features to institutions and culture, which has created a vicious cycle that is still ongoing.50 Nonetheless, we have to remember that Sardinia can be compared to Ireland, not only for their similar performance back in the eighties, but also because they were able to exploit the opportunity created by the ICT revolution, albeit with different final results. Ireland’s economic performance in the 1990s, according to Burnham (2003), can be summed

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up in the aphorism “fortune favours those who are well prepared”, because they were able to exploit the exogenous factor brought about by the ICT change of the technological paradigm, which included plummeting costs in telecommunication services. Actually, Sardinia proved “well prepared” too at that time thanks to a farsighted regional law (no. 21/1985) which established in 1990 the CRS4 (Center for Advanced Studies, Research and Development in Sardinia), with the aim of promoting interdisciplinary studies, development and the application of innovative solutions for priority thematic fields, including the information society. The presence of CRS4 was decisive in the future entrepreneurial experiences of Video on Line (which became the first internet provider in Europe in the Nineties before its premature end in 1996) and Tiscali (a web-based company, which was the first operator to launch free internet access in Italy following the liberalization of the telecoms market in 1998). Although Tiscali is still alive and kicking as an independent telecommunication operator mainly focused on the Italian market, its success has not grown into a larger regional ICT district capable of driving regional development.

Current economic outlook According to the last edition of the annual Report on Sardinian Economy in 2014 (CRENoS, 2014), Sardinia is not in good economic health: its capacity to produce wealth ranks 190 out of 272 European regions. Its GDP per capita is equal to 77% of the total European GDP average and it has been slowly but surely decreasing in the years since the crisis: it was 80.3% in 2009 and 78.3% in 2010. According to the latest available statistics, in 2012 its GDP per capita at current prices was 19,722 Euros, higher than the average of southern Italian regions (17,353) but much lower than the Italian average (25,728.6 Euros). Total Sardinian GDP in 2012 was around 31,300 million Euros and accounts for about 2% of Italian GDP. This value consists mainly of consumption expenditure in the regional territory (about 75%), while the fraction invested in fixed capital formation is only 17% (a quota which has been worryingly decreasing in recent years). The fraction of this total income that goes to wages and salaries makes up almost half (46%) of compensations for public administration services and only 18% for manufacturing production. Interestingly, the corresponding quota for Italy is 33% and 28% respectively. As far as the supplying side of the Sardinian economy is concerned, the economic system is made up of 146,525 active enterprises, a number which has been constantly decreasing in the last few years (there are

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almost 5,000 missing firms since 2008). According to ISTAT, in 2012 the average size of Sardinian firms is 2.9 workers per firm (almost 95% of them has less than 10 employees), compared to the Italian average of 3.9 workers per firm; among the Italian regions, only Sicily, Molise and Calabria have an average firm size lower than Sardinia. The modest dimension of firms is mirrored also in the financial data, since the average Sardinian local unit has a turnover of 330,000 Euros, less than half of the average plant in Piedmont, which has a turnover of 712,000 Euros. From a structural point of view, in 2012 the agricultural and rural sector was still quite relevant: 5.6% of workers belonged to the primary sector, while at the national level that amount was 3.7%. However, agricultural firms were able to create a mere 3.2% of Sardinian added value. 82.9% of added value generated by the service sector (while the national level was 73.8%). The two sectors able to generate most of the value added were both underdeveloped if compared to the national average: industry was, in fact, represented by 8% of Sardinian firms (10% at national level), while service sectors connected to activities of real estates, professionals and services for people, comprised 15% of active firms in Sardinia (22% at national level). These data demonstrate that the great amount of value added (and workers) belonging to the service sector was due to public administrations, which seems to be huge, especially compared to the number of Sardinian inhabitants. When we analyse the labour market, we find that Sardinia had, in 2013, an unemployment rate of 17.5% (versus 12.2% at national level), with an increase of 2 percentage points compared to 2012, equating to 117,000 unemployed workers. The most dramatic aspect of this problem is due to youth unemployment: in 2012, 47.3% of young people, aged between 15 and 24 years old, were unemployed, more than double the European Union average (22.9%). Even the non-participation rate was quite problematic: in 2013, 35.4% for women and 26.9% for men. This problem affects mainly people with a low degree of education: people with a secondary school degree show, in fact, 21.5% of the unemployment rate. People with at least a bachelor’s degree had an unemployment rate much lower, equal to 9.7%. Industry was again the sector with the greatest difficulties: compared to 2007, it showed a decline of 4.5%. In addition, 130,000 (in 2004 they were 88,000) workers were out of the job market, and they can be defined as discouraged workers.

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Considering gender differences, in Sardinia the unemployment rate is quite similar: in 2013, it was 17% for men and 17.9% for women. If we consider poverty, in 2012, 12.7% of Italian families were classified as “poor”, while in Sardinia the figure was 20.7% of total families. Thus, the Sardinian average of poor families was above the national average but under the average in the Mezzogiorno, which was 26.2%. In a nutshell, Sardinia is a stagnant economy, with a plethora of small firms and unbearably high unemployment, especially among young people and females. Moreover, its economic structure is clearly biased towards the rural and the service sector, with an abnormal size of public administration. Its ability to grow in the last few years has been severely hindered by an investment capacity that has been rather modest. If we now turn to the main factors which may affect the long run development path of Sardinia in the future by influencing its competitiveness, the picture does not get any better. For a remote and peripheral island, infrastructures are an essential component to get out of an underdevelopment path. Unfortunately, according to the data and indicators provided by Tagliacarne (2012), Sardinia had an infrastructure endowment index equal to 52.9% in 2012 compared to the national average (the whole Mezzogiorno registered an index of 79.8%). In particular, the Sardinian gap seems dramatic considering routes (the index is equal to 43.9% in Sardinia and 88.2% for the whole Mezzogiorno) and railways (17.4% in Sardinia while it is 76.3% considering the whole southern part of Italy). A global description of the Sardinian economy cannot exclude some considerations about its competitiveness at a European level. An interesting point of view that of the European Commission, which published the EU Regional Competitiveness Report 2013, considering regional competitiveness according to four pillars: institutions, infrastructures, education and innovation. Reading the global index, Sardinia is classified at the 222nd position over 262 European regions and it is 16th considering only Italian regions (Sardinia “wins” only against Sicily, Calabria, Puglia and Basilicata). Although it can be considered an exceptionally insufficient result, our region registers a small improvement with respect to the same index from 2010 (in that case Sardinia was 228th in Europe and second to last in Italy). Sardinia shows a good pattern only considering some variables related to innovation. R&D expenditure gives Sardinia the 189th position in Europe and 13th in Italy, the number of scientific publications per 1,000 inhabitants places the region 152nd in Europe and, considering broad band network development, Sardinia is in

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the same condition as the majority of European Union members and shows an average higher than the Italian national one. This acceptable situation regarding innovation and research is probably due to the active policy applied by the Regional Government (mainly through regional law L.7/2007 “Promotion of scientific and technology research in Sardinia”), able to give important financial aids to the research sector. Considering the other three pillars, the Italian condition is far from the other Western countries of the European Union, and for most of these indicators Italy is more similar to Eastern countries, especially for institutional variables (Table 13.1). Of 259 European regions, Sardinia is never above the 219th position (even if very often above the remaining southern Italian regions), showing a dramatic lack of public transparency and public services efficiency. The infrastructure index places Sardinia in the 231st position of 259 regions, again confirming the great difficulties of Sardinian transport, especially regarding routes and railways, in line with Tagliacarne’s (2012) data. Some positive aspects are offered by airport services. Given the central role played by policies to support learning and increase knowledge, youth education and training are subject to monitoring also in the new 2014-2020 European planning cycle. Italian regions exhibit fairly heterogeneous values and trends, but in some regions, among them Sardinia, the rate of 30-34-year-old people with a tertiary education is particularly low, below 17% (the lowest level in Italy and one of the lowest in Europe). Data on lifelong learning have a better pattern and rank Sardinia 164th out of 269 regions with an index equal to 7.6%. We will now conclude with some brief remarks about the Sardinian competitiveness in the external markets. According to ISTAT, in 2013 oil products were the most important for both Sardinian exports and imports: this phenomenon is mainly due to the presence of the Saras Spa, a huge refinery located near Cagliari but with headquarters in Milan. For this reason, oil products are about 83% of total Sardinian sales abroad and chemical products amount to 6% of exports. As a result, although the economic structure of the Sardinian system would suggest a relative specialization in primary products and their transformation, these represent a mere 3% of the total exports. Evidently, Sardinia still has a lot of potential to express in the exploitation of its traditional comparative advantages. This is especially because they can be strictly related to tourism, another sector that over the years has become more and more important (up to around 8% of regional GDP), despite the absence of a

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comprehensive strategy to take full advantage of its forward and backward linkages (Cannari and Chiti, 2000; Paci and Usai, 2000). Territory

Perceived corruption

Quality and fairness of local police

Piedmont

195

209

Quality and fairness of local schools and health offices 185

Fairness of elections and quality of mass media 138

Aosta Valley

151

156

116

133

Lombardy

215

235

211

188

Trento

165

192

135

61

Bolzano

141

159

93

101

Veneto

201

221

218

177

Friuli-Ven. G.

177

193

165

132

Liguria

217

207

219

179

Em.-Romagna

198

215

191

199

Tuscany

218

218

208

197

Umbria

196

200

198

141

Marche

206

224

220

143

Lazio

253

251

247

237

Abruzzo

235

232

240

198

Molise

243

253

251

224

Campania

268

264

264

260

Apulia

262

257

262

246

Basilicata

254

245

248

229

Calabria

267

254

267

261

Sicily

265

260

260

245

Sardinia

224

219

238

240

Table 13.1. Italian regions ranking for institutional indicators of the EU Regional Competitiveness Index, 2009. Source: CRENoS elaboration on “EU Regional Competitiveness Index 2013” data

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Some concluding remarks In conclusion, the Sardinian economic system is based on too many small and isolated companies unable to benefit from economies of scale and therefore, on average, unfit for exporting and investing in research and innovation. Furthermore, the costs of starting and developing a business are too high in Sardinia, as well as in Italy as a whole, because of the burden of bureaucracy and an unfavourable institutional context. Our human resources, especially the young ones, represent a largely idle potential, with levels of education and skills relatively modest in the European context. According to the Regional Plan for Development approved by the regional government at the end of 2014 (Regione Autonoma della Sardegna, 2014), these critical weaknesses of the Sardinian economy are well known, as much as it is clear that they have not shown any positive trend in the near past. The lesson of Ireland seems to resound in the language of this document, which emphasises the intention to invest in people’s ability to create sustainable employment opportunities in an inclusive society, within an economic system based on Sardinian historical environmental assets and comparative advantages. To fulfil these promises, the government needs to focus on innovation, efficient infrastructures and institutional quality, first to halt the current negative trend, and eventually inaugurate a new trend to allow Sardinia to move towards the wealthiest regions in Italy and in Europe.

References Acemoglu, Daron, Simon Johnson, and James A., Robinson. “Institutions as a Fundamental Cause of Long-Run Growth”. Handbook of Economic Growth. Amsterdam: Elsevier, pp. 385-472, 2005. Aghion, Philippe and Peter Howitt. “A Model of Growth through Creative Destruction”. Econometrica, 60(2), pp. 323-51, 1992. Annoni Paola and Lewis Dijkstra, “EU Regional Compeitiveness Index”. European Commission, 2013. Baldwin, Richard E. and Philippe Martin. “Agglomeration and regional growth”. Handbook of Regional and Urban Economics, 4(60). Amsterdam: Elsevier, pp. 2671-2711, 2004. Burnham, James B. “Why Ireland Boomed”. The Independent Review, v. VII, n.4, pp. 537-556, 2003.

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Cannari, Luigi and Salvatore Chiri. “Il turismo in Sardegna: un’opportunità sfruttata?”. In Lo sviluppo economico della Sardegna. Bologna: Il Mulino, pp. 89-104, 2000. CRENoS. Economia della Sardegna, 21° Rapporto. Cagliari: CUEC, 2014. Eurostat. Regional Statistics. 2013. Grossman, Gene M. and Elhanan Helpman. Innovation and Growth in the Global Economy. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1991 ISTAT. Noi Italia 2014 – 100 statistiche per capire il Paese in cui viviamo. Rome: ISTAT, 2014. —. Statistiche del Commercio Estero, Coeweb. Rome: ISTAT, 2013. —. Conti Economici Regionali. Rome: ISTAT, 2012 Istituto G. Tagliacarne. Atlante della competitività delle province e delle regioni. 2012. Mauro, Luciano and Francesco Pigliaru. Social Capital, Institutions and Growth: Further Lessons from the Italian Regional Divide. Cagliari: CRENoS, 2011. Myrdal, Gunnar. Economic theory and under-developed regions. London: Duckworth, 1975. Paci, Raffaele. Crescita economica e sistemi produttivi locali in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 1997. Paci, Raffaele and Andrea Saba. “The empirics of regional economic growth in Italy. 1951-1993”. Rivista Internazionale di Scienze Economiche e Commerciali, 45, pp. 515-542, 1998. Paci, Raffaele and Stefano Usai (Eds). L’ultima Spiaggia, Turismo, sostenibilità ambientale e crescita in Sardegna. Cagliari: CUEC, 2002. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna. Programma Regionale di Sviluppo, XV Legislatura 2014 – 2019. 2014. Romer, Paul M. “Endogenous technical change”. Journal of Political Economy, 98, pp. 71-102, 1990. Ruiu, Sandro. “Società, economia, politica dal secondo dopoguerra a oggi (1944-98)”. In La Sardegna, edited by Luigi Berlinguer and Antonello Mattone Antonello. Turin: Einaudi, 1998. Sapelli, Giulio. L’occasione mancata. Lo sviluppo incompiuto della industrializzazione sarda. Cagliari: CUEC, 2014 Scroccu, Gianluca, “Introduzione”. In L’occasione mancata. Lo sviluppo incompiuto della industrializzazione sarda, edited by Giulio Sapelli. Cagliari: CUEC, 2014 Solow, Robert M., “A contribution to the theory of economic growth”. Quarterly Journal of Economics, 70, pp. 65-94, 1956.

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Tallon Paul P. and Kenneth L. Kraemer. “The Impact of Technology on Ireland’s Economic Growth and Development: Lessons for Developing Countries”. In Proceedings of the 32nd Annual Hawaii International Conference on System Sciences, 1999.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN MOBILITY ITALO MELONI

Foreword The issue of transport and mobility in Sardinia, an insular region, needs to be addressed considering two aspects: external accessibility that concerns the services provided for connections between the island and its neighbouring countries (mainland Italy, Europe, the Mediterranean countries), and internal accessibility regarding those conditions and relations that facilitate the intra-island movement of goods and people. On the one hand, owing to the geographical discontinuity, links with the mainland and the rest of Europe can only be ensured through the provision of services at certain gateways, i.e. ports and airports. On the other, the island, which covers an area of some 24,000 square kilometres, has low population density. Thus the difficulty lies in ensuring the right to mobility not only in the urban agglomerations but also among the smaller and rural communities and the towns and cities. Generally speaking, the system of external transportation has seen significant development over the last few years, especially air transportation. The same cannot be said, however, of the internal transport network which continues to create inconvenience as it suffers from deficient infrastructures (especially railways), poor management and poor organization (low inter-modality) (Figure 14.1). This not only results in a poor quality of the service; above all it also constrains economic growth and development, especially in the island’s interior. In light of these brief considerations, clearly the transport and mobility system plays a vital and strategic role in Sardinia for the implementation of economic, social and environmental policy for the island as a whole. This includes in particular: the internationalization of Sardinia, overcoming and exploiting insularity, defeating the isolation of its interior, a widespread accessibility and the promotion of a sustainable mobility in urban agglomerations and major tourist destinations.

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External accessibility The services provided by ports and airports form the backbone of the infrastructure that links Sardinia to the main national and international transport networks and based on which transport services can be planned so as to ensure essential territorial continuity for the economic and social development of the island.

The airport system Sardinia’s airport system comprises three major airports: CagliariElmas, Olbia Costa Smeralda and Alghero-Fertilia, which operate both domestic and international flights. There are also two much smaller airports, Fenosu in Oristano and Tortolì/Arbatax, currently closed to commercial traffic. The last ten years have seen a major development of the airport system, seizing the opportunities offered by the liberalization of short-haul routes within the European Community and the resulting advent of lowcost carriers (1997/2002), by the enforcement of community rules on public service obligations (the so-called territorial continuity 2002/03), by the enactment of timely promotion policy and actions of the island’s airports (late 2004), as well as by the overhaul of all three major airports in Sardinia (funded by the National Operational Programme PON). Analysis of data indicates a growth in both domestic and international traffic that can be attributed to concomitant factors: reduced travel times offered by the new point-to-point connections between several Italian and European cities, high standards of comfort and lower air fares as a result of territorial continuity law enforcement (since 2002 on flights to Rome Fiumicino and Milan Linate, between 2007 and 2012 on other domestic routes and since 2012 again only on flights to Rome Fiumicino and Milan Linate), and the arrival of low-cost airlines (firstly at Alghero-Fertilia, followed by Cagliari-Elmas and Olbia). These factors have made it possible to partially overcome the problems of insularity and to overturn the very concept of insularity and isolation, transforming it into an asset for development. The positive effects of defeating isolation and of internationalization have manifested themselves primarily in the tourism industry, but also in higher education and in the cultural and social sectors. It is widely recognized that improvements in the air transportation system have had a positive impact on tourism development in Sardinia in recent years (island specificity, local resources, unspoilt landscapes, areas of natural beauty, cultural richness). This has

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resulted in the de-seasonalization of tourist flows, increasing the demand in the shoulder season (September- November and April-June). In 2013, the total number of passengers carried in the three airports amounted to 7,095,277 (55% of which between June and September), compared to 4,368,941 in 2002 (+62%). The busiest airport was Cagliari-Elmas (3,581,584 pax, 50.5% of total passengers carried in the three airports), followed by Olbia Costa Smeralda (1,950,673 pax, 27.5% of the total) and Alghero-Fertilia (1,563,020 pax, 22% of the total). The arrival of low-cost airlines has resulted in a more balanced distribution of passengers throughout the year, with an increase in arrivals and departures in winter. Of the three airports, Olbia Costa Smeralda, where only one low-cost carrier operates, is the most affected by seasonality, 70% of passengers handled being concentrated into the months from June to September, (against 51% at Alghero-Fertilia and 48% at Cagliari-Elmas). Increase in passenger traffic was also lower than the other two airports: +41% in 2013 over 2002, compared to +64% of Cagliari and + 175% of Alghero.

The port system The role of the regional port system is to satisfy the demand for freight (especially road freight) and passenger transport (chiefly travelling by car), ensuring connections between Sardinia and the main national and European road networks. The sea links offered by the regional ports actually constitute “motorways of the sea”, in other words the continuation of maritime transport on land, from Sardinia to the main national and international communication routes. Thus the ports play a strategic role, forming the main gateways to the national and international networks. The port system in Sardinia consists of 6 main subsystems, comprising one or more ports having different characteristics as well as a number of separate marinas (that are omitted from the analysis of external accessibility). These are Cagliari, North Sardinia, Northeast Sardinia, Sulcis-Iglesiente, Arbatax-Tortolì, Oristano-Santa Giusta. 1. Cagliari - The commercial port in Cagliari (passenger/car ferries, Ro-Ro and mixed freight, short-sea shipping and cruise ships) with combined daily or weekly passenger/freight services to Civitavecchia (231 nm), Naples (265 nm), Trapani (176 nm) and Palermo (217 nm) and all freight ships to Genoa;

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- Porto Canale (hub for container traffic, bulk cargo and Ro-Ro), providing transoceanic and feeder services;

- Porto Foxi (oil terminal); 2. North Sardinia - Olbia (passenger/car ferries, Ro-Ro and mixed freight, short-sea shipping and cruise ships), with combined daily or weekly passenger/freight services to Civitavecchia (125 nm), Leghorn (165 nm) and Genoa (217 nm) and cargo ships to Piombino (130 nm); - Golfo Aranci (passenger/car ferries), with seasonal services to Leghorn (160 nm); - Porto Torres commercial port (passenger/car ferries, Ro-Ro and mixed freight), with daily and weekly crossings to Genoa (214 nm) and Civitavecchia (179 nm), and the industrial port (dry and liquid bulk cargo); 3. Northeastern Sardinia - Palau (passenger/car ferries), with combined passenger-freight services to La Maddalena (3 nm); - La Maddalena (passenger/car ferries), with combined passengerfreight services to Palau; - Santa Teresa di Gallura (passenger/car ferries), with combined passenger-freight services to Bonifacio (9 nm) (Corsica); 4. Sulcis-Iglesiente - Portovesme (passenger/car ferries), with combined passengerfreight services to Carloforte (6 nm) and the industrial terminal (bulk cargo ships); - Calasetta (passenger/car ferries), with combined passenger-freight services to Carloforte (4.5 nm); - Sant’Antioco (bulk cargo ships); - Carloforte (passenger/car ferries), bulk cargo ships to Portovesme and Calasetta; 5. Arbatax-Tortolì commercial port (passenger/car ferries), with combined passenger-freight services to Civitavecchia (173 nm) and Genoa (278 nm) and an industrial terminal; 6. Oristano-Santa Giusta - Industrial port (bulk cargo ships). Thus, the Sardinian port system ensures passenger and freight transport to and from the island and mainland Italy. During the summer, 125 ferry services operate per week (95 combined passenger/Ro-Ro and 30 Ro-Ro

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ferries). Around 90 of these call at the Olbia/Golfo Aranci port, which is the busiest one, also owing to the fact that it is closest to the mainland. Maritime transport is strongly affected by seasonal variations in demand. During the off-peak tourist season (October-May) weekly services are reduced by roughly half, with 65 crossing from the different ports (36 combined passenger/freight ferries and 29 all-freight) of which 44 call at Olbia/Golfo Aranci. Unlike air transportation, ridership on domestic sea crossings has declined significantly over the last few years, as a result of the increase in fares following privatization of the major state-owned operator (Tirrenia), which ran the main services between Sardinia and mainland Italy at affordable and controlled prices, and of the rise in fuel prices. Specifically, examining trends in traffic over the period 2009-2013, the number of passengers plummeted from 6,219,444 in 2009 (the absolute peak) to 3,797,414 in 2013 (-38.9%) (a concession agreement with Tirrenia terminated in December 2008 but fares remained fairly stable up until 2010), a deadweight loss of around 2,400,000 passengers. On the other hand, interestingly Cagliari and Olbia ports have seen a growth in cruise ship traffic. A major reality in freight shipping is Cagliari’s industrial port (Porto Canale), managed by the terminal operator CICT (Cagliari International Container Terminal), that is directly and regularly connected with over 120 ports worldwide. In 2013 the terminal handled around 700,000 TEUs.

Internal accessibility Internal transport in Sardinia, which provides connectivity between communities and between communities and the interchange nodes (ports and airports), is ensured by an extensive road network (49,000 km of state, provincial and municipal roads) but a far less extensive railway network, covering just 1,100 km (2.7% of the national total), which is the smallest in Italy.

Road network Sardinia’s road network plays a vital role in providing connectivity and facilitating economic and social relationships, if only because the majority of daily inter-municipal travel is done by road (car or using public transport), which in morning peak hours accounts for almost 95% of the total. The main road network consists of national roads, which extend over some 3,000 km (6% of the total). These are divided into state roads of

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national interest (1,250 Km - 42%) - that includes the broad national and European network, connecting the capitals of the provinces with the interchange nodes - and state roads of regional interest (1,750 km - 58%), providing connections between the provinces and their urban agglomerations, as well as between the provinces themselves and the main interchange nodes. Provincial roads, covering over 5,540 km (11% of the total) plus municipal roads, which are the most extensive ones, exceeding some 40,000 km in length (83% of the total), complete the road network. The major national road in Sardinia is the S.S. 131 Carlo Felice (229 km) that runs north to south connecting Porto Torres to Sassari, Oristano and Cagliari. This road is important not only because of the volume of traffic it carries, but above all because it connects the main urban and productive settlements, services and interchange nodes (ports and airports). The road is a dual carriageway with central barrier and is undergoing a major overhaul to eliminate grade-level crossings and to widen the lanes. Another major road link is the S.S. 131 DCN (144.5 km) that from Abbasanta (slip road S.S. 131 after Oristano in a south-north direction) connects Cagliari and Oristano with Nuoro and Olbia. This infrastructure completes the core network linking Cagliari and Oristano with Nuoro and the Olbia - Golfo Aranci port. The last stretch (Siniscola-Olbia) serves the tourist destinations that continue to flourish along the coast. This route provides access to the northeast coast of Sardinia where most well-known tourist destinations are situated (Porto Rotondo, Costa Smeralda with Porto Cervo, the Maddalena archipelago). The national road network also comprises the S.S. 291 (37.2 km) that links Sassari to Fertilia airport and to Alghero, a holiday hot spot; the S.S. 597 (61 Km) and S.S. 199 (24.15 km) that from the SS 131 connects Sassari with Oschiri, Monti and Olbia; the S.S. 125 and 125 dir. (139.8 km and 4.3 km respectively) that link Cagliari with Tortolì - Arbatax. This route joins the Cagliari conurbation to the southeast coast, which has undergone extensive residential and tourist development (Quartu Sant’Elena and Villasimius), and to seaside resorts on the east coast (Villaputzu-Muravera-Castiadas). The S.S. 198 and S.S. 389 connect Nuoro with Mamoiada - Lanusei - Tortolì - Arbatax and this route provides connectivity with the Ogliastra and Nuorese regions. In south Sardinia the S.S.195 connects Cagliari with the petrochemical plants of the refinery in Sarroch, and the tourist settlements along the southwest coast (Nora, Santa Margherita, Chia and Teulada).

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The rail network The rail network in Sardinia, though branched, is heterogeneous - both as far as railway operators and infrastructure features are concerned. There are two operators: Ferrovia dello Stato (FS SPA with Trenitalia operating the service, and RFI Rete Ferroviaria Italiana that is responsible for the infrastructure) and ARST (Sardinian Regional Transport Agency). ARST controls the infrastructure and services of the former state-owned railway (formerly Ferrovie della Sardegna). The entire network covers around 1,100 km, and is not electrified. The network managed by RFI (Rete Ferroviaria Italiana, part of the FS SPA Group) comprises some 430 km of single-track standard gauge railway (1.435 m = 4’8 1/2”), except for the stretch Cagliari – Decimomannu (16.6 km), and Decimomannu – San Gavino (34 km), which is double-track and accommodates trains operated by Trenitalia. The network layout, which for the most part dates back to 1881, is simple: a 300 km long trunk line that links Cagliari with San Gavino, Oristano, Macomer and Golfo Aranci (in the northeast). A 66 km long branch line departs northwestwards from Chilivani in central-north Sardinia to Sassari-Porto Torres and in the south of the island from Decimomannu westwards to Iglesias (38 km). This then branches off at Villamassargia for the town of Carbonia, a 22 km long stretch that went into service in 1956. The rail network only provides partial coverage, as it does not serve either the tourist destinations in the coastal areas or the entire eastern part of the island. Railway density, an indicator of accessibility, expressed as the ratio of track length (430 km) to land area (24,090 km2), is just 17.8m/km2, compared to the national average of 55m/km2, in other words barely one third. Other handicaps are that many railway stations are situated at some distance from the towns and services connecting them are inadequate. The provision of services in this rail infrastructure is disadvantaged by the geographical conformation of the network, especially in the stretch north of Oristano, that adversely affects the performance of passenger train services, particularly on long journeys (Cagliari - Sassari and Cagliari Olbia), where the commercial speed is well below design speed, averaging just 70 km/h. The journey from Cagliari to Sassari (254 km by rail and 215 km by road along the S.S. 131) takes around 3 hours by the fastest express train (commercial speed of 84 km/h), 25% longer than the trip by road in a medium sized car. The slower trains take from 3h37min to 4h02min. The journey from Cagliari to Olbia (§278 km by both rail and road) takes the fastest train lasts around 3 h 30 mins, with a commercial speed of about 79

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km/h, while journey times on the slower trains are much longer (4 h – 4 h 20 mins). On the other hand, the services connecting Cagliari with San Gavino and Oristano and Cagliari with Iglesias and Carbonia are higher performing routes. The “intercity” stretch from Cagliari to Oristano (94 km), which has the highest ridership, runs through flat grounds, and is well served by 20 trains a day. The fastest journey time is 57min, achieving a commercial speed of around 100 km/h. However, this is an isolated case, with the other trains taking on average 1h15min, travelling at a commercial speed of 75 km/h. The Cagliari-Iglesias line (54.3 km), which links the capital with the Iglesiente region (Iglesias, population of 29,075), runs parallel to the state S.S. 130 road along a track with favourable gradients and curves. Around 14 trains a day operate on this route, the fastest covering the journey in 51min at a commercial speed of 64km/h; the slower trains take around 1h. Summing up, generally speaking train journey times within the capital’s catchment area (around 60 km) compare favourably with travel times by public road transport or by private car, as confirmed by rail ridership statistics. However, one sore point is the rolling stock that is now technologically and operationally obsolete. With the current track layout, long distance train travel cannot compete in terms of journey times and comfort with long distance road trips. Sardinia’s narrow gauge rail network (0.95 m), formerly operated by the state owned railway FdS, now by ARST, the regional transport agency, was extended to some 1,000 km between 1888 (when the Cagliari-Isili and Monti-Tempio lines went into service) and the Second World War. However, this network has continued to decline slowly, both because it has lost its original purpose and because of technological obsolescence. As a result, from 1956 onwards passenger traffic gradually declined, leading eventually to the closure of numerous sections, with rail transport being replaced by bus services. The narrow gauge rail network is single track and diesel operated. ARST provides two types of service: local public transport (TPL, rail + road) that does not usually operate on Sundays and public holidays; and a tourist train (Trenino Verde della Sardegna – the Little Green Train), a service that only operates on dates to be agreed between customers and ARST or fixed by the agency itself. Five lines are still operating to provide local public transport and they cover a distance of 221 km travelling at a commercial speed of 47 km/h. These lines serve the two main urban areas of Cagliari (Cagliari-Isili, length 81.1 km, average journey time 1 h 54 mins) and Sassari (Sassari-Alghero, 33.5 km, about 34 mins; Sassari/Sorso, 11.1 km, 14 minutes; Sassari-Nulvi, 34.7

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km, about 48 mins) and connect Nuoro to Macomer (61.4 km, 1 h 15 mins) for interconnection with the RFI network. The tourist railway operates between Mandas and Arbatax (160 km, journey time 4 h 50 mins), Macomer and Bosa Marina (48.1 km, 1 h 47 mins), Tempio and Palau (56.5 km, 1 h 30 mins) and Isili and Sorgono (83.1 km, 3 h 30 mins). The conversion of some stretches, which provide the visitor the opportunity to enjoy enchanting landscapes and marvel at the engineering feat required to build the railway, has avoided, on the one hand, the closure of unprofitable railway lines and, on the other, it has created a valuable tool to promote tourism and revitalize territorially and economically marginal areas. The tourist railway certainly needs to be further developed and revamped in order to pursue far-reaching objectives that can be achieved owing to these facts:

- Tourists, as well as the local population, are increasingly attracted to the island’s interior

- A new kind of cultural tourism is gaining ground in Sardinia that attracts nature enthusiasts

- The train service is environmentally friendly, respecting the -

extremely delicate environmental equilibrium that exists in certain inland areas The tourist season can be extended into the shoulder months.

Public transport by road and urban mobility Public non-urban and regional bus services are operated in Sardinia largely by the state-owned transport agency ARST, which runs regional services as well as services within a catchment area, and also by a number of private operators in local catchment areas. The network covers some 7,800 km of roads and comprises around 500 routes. As far as local public transport is concerned, ARST has the lion’s share, covering a total network length of around 13,645 km (intended as route kilometres). ARST’s bus fleet comprises around 720 vehicles of various types. These Euro 5 diesel buses (that reduce particulate emissions by 72% and nitrous oxide by 93%), provide connections to 328 municipalities. ARST only provides non-urban bus services on inter-provincial (that connects towns or villages in different provinces) and intra-provincial routes (origin and destination in the same province).

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The two main providers of urban transport services in Sardinia operate in the major cities, Cagliari and Sassari. CTM (Consorzio Trasporti e Mobilità) runs services within the city of Cagliari and in the metropolitan area (serving a population of 370,000), linking the capital to the suburbs Quartu Sant’Elena, Quartucciu, Selargius, Monserrato, Elmas, Assemini and Decimomannu. The network covers around 480 route kilometres with 190 buses running in morning peak hours. CTM is a modern agency that in recent years has set up an avant-garde intelligent transport system (information displays at bus stops, centralised traffic signal control and priority for buses, fleet management, mobility website, etc.). The public transport agency ATP is a consortium comprising the municipalities of Sassari and Porto Torres and Sassari provincial authorities. It operates services in the towns of Sassari and Porto Torres on 22 bus routes in Sassari (11 urban and 11 suburban), and 3 in Porto Torres, with a recently renewed fleet of around 105 buses. Despite the improvements achieved by the two public agencies in the supply of transport and mobility services (they both also manage parking facilities) and the construction of a light railway line that recently began operation in the two cities (in Cagliari Repubblica-San Gottardo, 6.4 km, and in Sassari S.M. di Pisa - Emiciclo Garibaldi, 4.3 km), the two metropolitan areas continue to suffer from severe congestion. Commuters, who travel daily into the city centre for work, study or other purposes (especially health care), make up the bulk of vehicle traffic. Another major problem is parking, as the City of Cagliari has few car parks, the majority of parking spaces being situated at roadsides. This situation hinders the smooth flow of public transport and private vehicle traffic. However, over the last few years, public authorities have taken steps to improve sustainable urban mobility. The historic centre in Sassari has been largely closed to traffic and a number of squares within the city are now pedestrianized, thus prohibiting vehicle access and parking. The supply of public transport services has been increased and several car parks have been created close to the historic centre. The city of Cagliari has also implemented various measures aimed at improving sustainability, partially closing to traffic (at certain times and on certain days of the week) some of its historic districts (Marina, waterfront, Castello, Villanova) and introducing cycle lanes, bike-sharing (10 stations with 70 bicycles) and recently car-sharing. Other mobility problems arise in popular tourist destinations (Arzachena with Porto Cervo, Olbia with Porto Rotondo, Palau, Santa

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Teresa di Gallura, La Maddalena, Stintino, Alghero, Bosa, Carloforte, Pula, Villasimius, Cala Gonone, San Teodoro, etc.), especially during the summer as transport infrastructure and services have not been designed to handle the extra capacity. This results in traffic congestion, road accidents and local pollution (cars occupying space, noise, etc.), as well as more generally in deterioration in the quality of life in those places that should instead support healthy lifestyles. This situation calls for sustainable measures to improve mobility in coastal areas and in the most popular seaside resorts, also for the purpose of preserving them from unregulated vehicle access. Historically, Sardinia is renowned for its superior environmental quality in relation to both its geographic conformation and environmental and landscape heritage. Thus, limiting access to private vehicles could be a winning factor in preserving the unique features of this island.

References CRENoS. 18° Rapporto 2011. Economia della Sardegna. Il trasporto pubblico. Cagliari, CUEC. 2011. —. 19° Rapporto 2012. Economia della Sardegna. La mobilità sostenibile. Cagliari, CUEC. 2012. —. 22° Rapporto 2014. Economia della Sardegna. La continuità trasporto aereo. Cagliari, CUEC. 2014. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna (RAS). Aggiornamento Piano Regionale dei Trasporti, 2008.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN RURAL TERRITORIES AND AGRICULTURE FRANCESCO NUVOLI AND FABIO PARASCANDOLO

Part one: the modernization of rural Sardinia1 Premise Modernity appears as the continually updated result of a long series of winning innovations, introduced into the social body and land use organization, both changed by human actions over the centuries. It can be briefly defined as the aggregate of material and social conditions that characterize urban and industrial civilization. The habit of cyclically refuting its contingent attributes of renewing itself and evolving into a never satiated rush towards the future is one of its structural and physiological features. Nevertheless, the aspects of continuity and deeprooted coherence of the modernizing process are to be recognized. We shall thus define as modern (or palaeomodern when further into the past) all the technical, social and cultural manifestations that emerged in European urban civilization in its period of gradual transformation and expansion following the “dark ages” of the High Middle Ages. The first part of this work will describe the main steps in time and the social and spatial structures of the process of the agrarian and agricultural modernization of Sardinia.2 Within the confines of a schematic argument, we shall trace three basic typologies, that is, three historical and territorial situations characterized by different economic rationales: premodernity, palaeomodernity and development. 1

By Fabio Parascandolo. Further considerations are expressed more at length and with an ample bibliography in Parascandolo, 1995. Subjects and contents of the first part are largely taken from Parascandolo, 1998. 2

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Premodernity During the Aragonese and subsequent Spanish domination of Sardinia, the imposition of a feudal order by external sovereignty was characterized by high taxes on rural communities. This period saw the exportation of farm and livestock products (especially cereals and oxen) by the merchants and feudal aristocracy.3 But the poor demographic, social and ecological conditions created by the population crisis of the 14th century4 limited Sardinia’s inclusion in the Mediterranean trade routes; this led to the regression of the protomodernization introduced by the Pisans and Genoese towards the end of the Middle Ages. The island’s lack of commercial vigour was evidenced by the extreme precariousness of its road network. The high degree of insecurity in rural areas led to locally managed forms of community defence. The urban defences – weakly structured and almost exclusively coastal – had a modest capacity to penetrate into and transform the economic life of the areas farthest inland. With its peculiar mixture of feudalism, ecclesiastic power and village autonomy, the “stagnant and absent” political regime imposed by the Catalan-Aragonese domination hindered the island from beginning the processes of capital accumulation that were taking place in Western Europe. Thus the structural conditions causing the region’s socioeconomic “backwardness” were created.5 On examining literature related to the historical features of Sardinian rural communities (for bibliographic references, see Parascandolo, 1993a, 1993b), the ecological rooting of rural communities in their specific environments emerges clearly. We are dealing with very strong links, since the village inhabitants lived on local farm produce and natural products; their subsistence depended on the effectiveness of their systems of diversified gathering of what was available on their lands. In such localized economies, the respect for ecological limits on the use of resources was indispensable in order to avoid shortages of food and of other primary necessities. The models of collective responsibility in the management of resources thus assumed a regulatory function on individualistic tendencies present in the communities. Competition and the pursuing of private interests necessarily had to respect the need to

3

Anatra, 1989. For livestock products see Ortu, 1981. For an introduction to the history of the populating of Sardinia see Asole, 1980. 5 See Berger, 1986, pp. 135-145. It is in this historical period that the pre-modern or “traditional” norms and institutions of the community agricultural system came permanently to the fore: see Day, 1987, p.72, Le Lannou, 1976, pp. 113-136. 4

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cooperate for the common good of each community (considered on the local scale).6 Going into further detail and taking our inspiration from the substantivistic approaches formulated for economic history by scholars such as Polanyi (1983) and Georgescu-Roegen (1982), we shall indicate some of the essential aspects of the pre-modern economic system that gradually faded away and disappeared following the legal reforms and economic changes that took place during the 19th century. A typical rural community, especially one isolated from urban centres, was characterized by: 1) A community (and thus “participatory”) governance of the times, places and ways of harvesting crops, livestock grazing and processing environmental assets. A government based for the most part not on private access to the land (instead of private ownership, collective possession of natural and cultivated resources prevailed). Subsistence was assured primarily through the relationship to the land used by each local society by means of its specific agrarian system: obligatory crop rotation, sharing of pastures, common use of woodlands, etc.7 2) The local self-sufficiency concerning food and energy. However, this was reached only at the scale of the entire rural community and was based on the interdependence of families forming the community; taken singularly, they were never entirely autonomous. The circuits of kinship and neighbourly reciprocity (gifts of goods and services) and the infra-community productive specializations (but never as accentuated as modern ones) made collective selfsufficiency possible.8 3) The purchase (with the little money available to families) of what could not be obtained through forms of their own consumption and reciprocity within the local community. This took place especially at the time of special occasions, when different communities came together for festivals, feasts, markets and so on. Thus the exchange

6

In particular, for Sardinia’s pastoral world see Berger, 1986. In the entire European Mediterranean world, perhaps Sardinia and Corsica were the only agropastoral societies that in the 19th century were still organized on the basis of such a “closed” and self-concentrated use of land. Elsewhere, it had disappeared centuries before (see Berger, 1993, p. 4). 8 Polanyi emphasized the decisive importance of the principle of community reciprocity in the organization of pre-industrial societies, 1983. On the role played by this factor in Sardinian agropastoral society, see Pigliaru, 1959. 7

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of certain products (specialized local handicrafts) was advantageously channelled, together with any surpluses of local food.9

Palaeomodernity Approximately one century after the passage of the island to the House of Savoy (1720), rural Sardinia fully entered the orbit of modernization. Based on the declared “illness” of the island, the Savoy reformers devised and applied more and more legislative remedies to “heal” its legal, economic and territorial systems, bringing them as far as possible into line with the rules of a market economy. Both the “perfect fusion” with Piedmont (1847) and Italian unity (1861) accelerated the island’s modernization. But Sardinia remained a non-industrialized region, although its productive system was integrated into the sphere of the national and international capitalistic economy.10 The building in the second half of the century of road and railway networks to meet the needs of commercial transportation laid the foundations for the efficient exportation of ores and agricultural produce. Farming practices were changed as much as possible to favour an emerging middle-class of farmers, starting at the time of the enclosures edict of 1820. Although technically behind the times, the new economic order provided lasting opportunities for the enrichment of an autochthonous and privileged minority, often culturally isolated from the cities but nonetheless linked to urban power wielders, since the latter were those who protected their private interests (cf. Angioni, 1982; Berger, 1986, p. 264; Parascandolo, 1993b pp. 51-55). Overall, the entire post-unification period up to the advent of fascism was characterized by the intensification of farming entrepreneurship. Commercial products were increasing swiftly compared to previous centuries but, contrary to governmental intentions, the use of the land for extensive grazing made available to the capitalist market by the reform continued to prevail over intensive agriculture. With the arrival of the 20th century, the milling industry expanded, and the first industrial dairies were also set up to export their products. The hunger for land required by the 9

On the difference between these local markets - characterized by little or no marketing skills by sellers - and those more widespread (and self-regulated according to Polanyi’s expression) see Braudel, 1981. 10 Concerning the process of the capitalist takeover of rural regions on the Italian national scale, see Sereni, 1968. The progressive levying of taxes in money and no longer in kind was of the utmost importance in the penetration of the market economy into rural Sardinia.

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introduction of the monoculture of pecorino cheese – more profitable than that of cereal – led to the island’s sheep-raising specialization, which compromised the traditional complementariness of agriculture, forestry and animal husbandry on a local scale (cf. for all Berger, 1986, pp. 188-194). Undoubtedly, the most distinctive feature of the traditional precapitalistic society was that in it economic transactions were a part of social relations. On the contrary, during the 20th century, in the island’s countryside the process of rendering economic organizations autonomous became more and more accentuated; through the work of the legislators they were institutionally separated from the other aspects of the social organization. The formalistic sense of the market economy consists, in fact, of the separation between society and economy and in the primary importance assigned to the latter concerning decisions on policies of production and consumption of the “civil society” (cf. Polanyi, 1983, especially p. 75). It is on this social and cultural terrain that the radical opposition occurred between the world of su connottu (the ethnoscientific patrimony of communitarian mores) and that of the developing market economy. Differently from the residents of modern cities, Sardinian shepherds and peasants satisfied most of their needs by interacting among themselves and with the local ecosystem, and not by purchasing with money goods from many different sources offered on the market on the basis of changeable price balances. The survival of their self-sufficient way of life was based on the practice of territorial self-governance. The rendering autonomous of an economic sphere separated from social life and under the control of centralized institutions was not a part of their experience or concept of the world. They thus showed an irreducible otherness concerning the commercial and political “opening up” that characterized the mature urban and industrial civilization. Italian post-unification governments, oriented towards mercantile universalism, could not tolerate the survival of this unwelcome diversity and decreed its abolition rather than limiting themselves to exploiting it, as had been the case with the feudal systems of serfdom and taxation. The judicial abolition of the ancien régime was relatively quick, but the process of conversion to capitalism of the Sardinian rural economy revealed itself to be long and complex and had to overcome much inertia and resistance from the local populations.11 Up to the advent of “development”, a hybrid economy with two sectors continued to exist; the rural lands provided resources both for

11

Among other things, Sotgiu will discuss the dismantling of economic “archaisms”, 1984 and 1986. Pirastu, 1973, gives a brief account of the traumatic social effects of the Piedmont reforms following Italian unification.

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a personal use and for the market economy, in which the village communities became more and more involved.

Figure 15.1. Villamar (Province of Medio Campidano). Murale on land ownership changes in 19th century Sardinia. By the upper part, on the left, some famous verses attributed to Melchiorre Murenu (poet in Sardinian language, 1803 – 1854), written in red, can be read. They express popular anger about the privatization of common lands, concluding “If sky had been on earth, they would have closed it, too”. The picture was taken in 2007

Among the provisions that made common lands private, standing out for the seriousness of its economic impact was the cancelling of the ancient rights of use exercised by local communities on more than 470,000 hectares of state lands of the island. During the second half of the 19th century, governments alienated these lands in favour of private owners, for the most part through the mediation of the municipalities. Among other things, this led to the destruction of the ancient forests, which were taken away from common uses (ademprivili) to be exploited by Italian companies from the mainland. People were deprived of the rights to use such lands to reap certain benefits (firewood, pasture lands, cereals) and in exchange they received properties that produced little and on which they had to pay high taxes.

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Thus, many of these properties were expropriated because of unpaid taxes or were sold at low prices to the profit of the few who in such a way became the owners of vast estates, while many peasants became farm workers with low and uncertain wages (Mori, 1975, p. 368). The favour of the ruling classes regarding investments in production was first of all conditioned by the amount of profits they expected for the state treasury and the enterprises. The low cost of exploiting raw materials thus represented the decisive factor in a speculative assault on natural resources, with no thought to their often irreversible deterioration. This economic model fits into a rhetoric of labour that exalted human industry as the invaluable source of wealth and welfare for the national society, but only as a “productive factor”, and thus solely in the form of companies oriented towards the exchange of goods and the realization of the highest monetary profits. Far differently did the rural communities, as illustrated by this example, satisfy their needs. In the villages of the Trexenta region, peasants and shepherds used to consider comporai pani di endi, to buy bread in the shops, that is, bread on sale, and non tenni su trigu in domu, not to have wheat in the house with which to make bread at home all the year round, shameful and humiliating (Cabiddu, 1965, p. 460). Despite this, the habitual activities (agrarian and domestic) for local self-sustenance were looked upon with suspicion and annoyance by the elites of the time. Villagers were capable of producing and consuming independently of the markets since their work was not connected to a centrally organized production of surpluses. Their practices thus were an obstacle to the success of a commercial and profit-making economy. When we think “that all the women and often even the children of a family are engaged in doing nothing but making bread, it is to be hoped that the tax on flour will have, at least in Sardinia, the advantage of eliminating the false and fatal industry of mills in the home.” (Mantegazza, 1869, pp. 24-25, our italics) 12 While governments planned and gradually implemented the systematic reorganization of agricultural, pastoral and forest productions in line with the needs of commercial and financial efficiency (monetary, centralized and short-term), the village communities needed first of all the certainty of 12

This author probably meant that these women and children would be more productive as wage earning farm workers, or as factory workers or miners. The comparison between his words and the previous quotation clearly illustrates the clash of intentions and life strategies between the peasants and the ruling reformers, even more if we take into account the serious effects the tax on flour had on the rural population in Italy (and obviously also in Sardinia).

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having foodstuffs (organic and long-term) that could be obtained by means of farming activities. In accordance with their time-tested experience, only self-governed agrarian practices and non-destructive exploitation of local ecosystems would allow them to achieve this crucial objective.13 Instead, the inhabitants of Sardinia’s rural areas found themselves deprived of valid alternatives when faced with the serious socio-ecological imbalances caused by the imposition of a legal and economic regime that led to the privatization of natural commons and their traditional systems of use. The autonomy of shepherds was subordinated to the uncontrollable mechanisms of the market, which determined the value of land rents and dairy products. Even the peasants were subjected to a quite new phenomenon for an economy that in the past had been almost entirely self-sufficient: the high cost of living caused by the intensified industrialization of the means of production and farm products. It was certainly a period of rapid economic growth and a sustained increase in population, but also one of profound disquiet among the underprivileged rural populations that began to be expelled from the primary sector. Thus the abandonment of the countryside began, directly connected to the modern international waves of migrants. Sardinian migrants between 1876 and 1930, mostly towards France or overseas, were 129,100 (Merler, 1982, p. 173). Episodes of “rural crime” and banditry intensified compared to the past. The overall effect of government policies and the processes of economic change that took place between the first decades of the 19th century and 1945 was to transform Sardinia into a regional laboratory of underdevelopment, brought about mostly by three factors: 1) the corrosion of the traditional means of subsistence of rural populations; 2) the general impoverishment and reduction in status of the proletarians of the latter; 3) the intensification of conflicts for the use of common lands which were being eroded by the growing economic pressure brought to bear on them. Old and new degenerative social and environmental phenomena (the proverbial and devastating clashes between peasants and shepherds and the acceleration of the deterioration of natural ecosystems) were intensified or triggered.14 13 On the socio-ecological implications of rural traditionalism see GeorgescuRoegen, 1982; for Sardinia see Angioni, 1989. 14 See for an analogous interpretation Perna, 1994, an essay that offers valuable hints also for the understanding of the Sardinian question. See also Shiva, 1990, who holds that the passage to the so-called underdevelopment represents nothing more than the direct consequence of the subtraction from the autochthonous populations of natural resources, held in common in a given land in accordance

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The social rationales of the local populations came out of these processes profoundly transformed, so much so that although rural usages remained characterized by ecological customs, it must be said that these deep-seated customs were now weakened, and had become more passive than active, thus to be interpreted in terms of “backwardness” by the rural inhabitants themselves, always the losers with regards to what was offered by the urban centres as the driving force of modernity. Collective events with an enormous emotive and existential impact, such as conscription, the colonial and world wars and migration to the world’s industrial centres, were to cause a lasting change to the cultural horizons of society in Sardinia’s villages. Slowly but relentlessly, they witnessed the dissolution of their models of self-centred decision-making.

Development By “development” we mean the passage to a new phase in the overall historical process of Sardinia’s integration into the national and international economy, which began much earlier than the middle of the 20th century. From the 1950s, this process saw a decisive intensification, even reaching the point of a giant step forward. We refer to that set of cultural options, living conditions and socio-economic processes that go under the heading of development and which, starting from the second post-war period, involved Italy in its entirety. Despite the implementation of certain land and agrarian reforms (AA.VV. - various authors, 1985), in the years following the war the Italian ruling classes avoided any “ruralistic” solution to the social problems of farming areas. With the joining of the ECM (the European Common Market) at the end of the 1950s, the country entered a new historical period in which the old power structures based on fascist ruralism were changed once and for all.15 On the basis of the new political and commercial scenarios, Sardinia was no longer simply a region that exported foodstuffs (as it had been for with pre-modern economic strategies. On the deep historical roots of these processes of expropriation in Sardinia, see Day, 1990. 15 The second post-war period saw the formation of a new national power bloc. The privileged partners in the north were the industrialists, while in the south a caste of politicians and speculators held together by patronage took control over key sectors of the economy and sacrificed the re-launching of an autonomous agrarian economy in favour of the expansion of a powerful international capitalism (see Massullo, 1991, Varvaro, 1992). Thus, the old agrarian aristocracy came to an end, while radical technological and economic reorganizations were taking place in the sector of food production.

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centuries), but it also saw an increase in their importation. The offer on the regional market of cereals grown abroad with advanced agribusiness technologies and the impossibility of producing them at competitive prices in the context of traditional Sardinian farms caused the definitive economic collapse of the lower rural classes. With the modernization of the sector and its coming into line with the higher production standards, millions of small producers who resided in the more “backward” areas of the country, which is to say Southern Italy, Sardinia and Sicily, found themselves “in excess” in the emerging labour and market system. In order to improve their condition they had to change jobs and transfer their manpower to the industrialized regions of Italy and Europe. This led to an even more intense and de-structuring migration than in the past. It was no coincidence that this took place in the very years of the Italian “economic miracle”, that is of the adoption of a model for development based on the expansion of industrial capitalism. Overall, in the three decades after the 1950s, in Sardinia many and radical transformations occurred, which can be summarized as follows: – expulsion from the primary sector of “non-competitive” farms, the shocking decrease in farm employment, the dismantling of traditional crafts and the massive exodus from rural towns, especially those not susceptible to irrigation and farm mechanization; – the resumption of migration and its intensification compared to the past (with as many as 392,000 official emigrants between 1946 and 1976),16 as well as the move to urban areas along the coasts and on the plains, including the new centres of heavy industry; – the growth of a constellation of phenomena typical of “assisted capitalism” (parasitic expansion of the service industry, easy pensions, a new agricultural economy totally linked to public financing, patronage, unemployment and so on). It goes without saying that work in factories, and even more so the inflation of the service sector, offered the main income opportunities for the rural masses expelled from their former economic frameworks and who had not migrated to continental Europe. The specific weight of agriculture in the regional economy decreased drastically. If in the previous “palaeomodern” economic regime the rural communities had a 16

See Merler, 1982, p. 174. According to Rudas, 1974, p. 28, the numbers in the exodus were even larger, and between 1951 and 1971 it may have involved approximately one third of the island’s population.

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weaker and weaker hold on the objectives of their economic activities, nevertheless they still succeeded more or less in managing their means of production and reproduction, that is, the local cultural as well as ecological heritage: spontaneous architecture and village layouts, biodiversity of the agrarian genome, specific and widespread handicrafts and so on. Farmers still used their “backward” skills even though this led to harvests far scantier than those of farms in the agribusiness sector. Traditional skills were, however, unable to compete in the new political and economic context that was emerging in the second post-war period (see Parascandolo, 2013 with specific reference to food industry systems). So, their already precarious survival came to an end. From the end of the 1950s, the rural lands and communities of Sardinia underwent a sort of structural adjustment on the conditions imposed by the forces of the market, and came into line with the new socio-economic course of Italy’s peripheral regions. Thus a process of modernization of dependence and “underdevelopment” set in. A tumultuous technological and cultural transfer decomposed once and for all the residual selfregulating features of rural communities. These ceased almost completely to be autonomous decision-making systems. With the final “rejuvenation” of the agrarian structures, the fundamental decisions on territorial organization (including those concerning the transformation or possible conservation of environmental assets) were reserved for the all-enveloping political and economic system, that is state institutions and the free play of market forces. Global decision-making systems entirely replaced local ones and, with the liquidation of the economic autonomy of the communities, there was a corresponding irruption of a heteronomous urbanism as an all-absorbing model of reference for territorial planning in rural environments. In the course of this new economic and sociocultural season, epochal upheavals were taking place in the countryside. The lines of development laid down by the public administrations, agencies set up for land and agrarian reforms, reclamation consortia and so on, with the assistance of the Cassa per il Mezzogiorno (Development Fund for Southern Italy) then being organized, embarked on the construction of a large number of public works and factories. Together with the infrastructures, new urban and agribusiness uses of the soil redesigned from top to bottom the organizational models of rural areas. The relationship between production and consumption of foodstuffs that had lasted for thousands of years disappeared into new relational networks no longer based on contiguity and spatial vicinity. Only economic and organizational factors belonging

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to the invasive institutional systems determined the activation and distribution of productive flows (cf. Farinelli, 1989).17 The effects of specialization combined with an increased production led to an overall farmland contraction and simplification. Thus, new territorial structures began to appear in rural areas, compacted by market standardization but still segmented by a wide variety of farm situations. The traditional forms of family farming with single farms continued to exist - albeit on the threshold of disappearance owing to the difficulty in competing - but there also appeared a small number of farms characterized by advanced infrastructures and an abundant use of energy, chemicals and machinery that responded well to European Community orientations. The question was different for livestock breeders, who found ample margins of economic convenience even while maintaining traditional forms of work with low-intensity agricultural and capital inputs. They took advantage of the crisis in traditional vegetable production and the widespread abandonment of farming to expand the already conspicuous role of sheep breeding by extending their areas of production from the mountainous interior to the hills and plains. Their economic and territorial expansion took place mostly in the 1970s, when they could profit from the agropastoral reform implemented within the framework of regional planning measures. The intention of such policies was to introduce technology into traditional pastoral nomadism, transforming it into a sedentary zootechnical configuration based, as far as possible, on the use of modern agronomic systems: artificial pastures, sundry equipment and automation (cf. 2.2. in this chapter). The rationalization of production necessarily led to a reduction and concentration on specific lands of the most efficient sectors. The economic growth on some flat and hilly lands - those privileged in the processes of change since they facilitated work with the use of infrastructural and mechanical “prostheses” - corresponded to a subsidized suspension of farming (and sometimes a modest development of forestry) in vast, marginalized areas of the interior. And yet, despite the “sacrifice” of the less favourable farming areas, it certainly cannot be said that farms on the plains “flourished”. Despite their better economic integration and the outsourcing of their processing, packaging and marketing stages, there was still a lack of competitiveness compared to other farm districts of the European Community. With some isolated exceptions, produce rarely went beyond the boundaries of the regional market, while large amounts of the 17

For an introduction to the geography of Sardinia’s modernization, updated to the 1980s and accompanied by bibliographic references, see Zaccagnini, 1989 and Id. 1995. In particular, concerning Sardinian agriculture: Loi, Zaccagnini, 1996.

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same Mediterranean foodstuffs that from the time of the Second World War had provided the island with self-sufficiency in food, were being imported. The combinatorial policies activated on the basis of institutional systems of consultancy, regulations and subsidies induced those working in agriculture to undertake an integral conversion of traditional knowledge and practices. There was a multiplication of professional tasks in the service sector and it became more and more necessary to know how to orient oneself within the intricacies of administrative practices and opportunities for services to enterprise (use and maintenance of machinery, innovation in growing techniques, sale of produce and so on). All farmers found themselves in a condition of extroverted dependence brought about by industrial modernization. They were obliged to adopt techniques and orient their production as dictated by the food marketing chain responding to the economic whims of strong national and international financial interests. One emblematic fact illustrates the overall condition of subservience of farm owners: at the end of the 1980s, debt in the Sardinian agricultural sector exceeded the gross value of saleable production (RAS, 1991, p. 27). Starting from the 1980s, agricultural practices were strongly conditioned by the political interplay of financial measures and the irruption of a globalizing agribusiness. The centrally managed technological and institutional networks that were set up around them brought to bear great pressure to use common natural assets (air, water, soil, biodiversity) in their production and implemented processes that deteriorated local ecosystems. The optimization of production was thus pursued at the expense of long-term environmental sustainability, the exact opposite of what took place in the remote past, when local “farms” produced first of all for their own food consumption, and in any case with traditional techniques (cf. Parascandolo, 1993b with special reference to livestock breeding, and Id., 2006, for an overall description of Italian territorial change). The increase in agricultural production corresponded to a very low energy efficiency, to an excessive consumption of non-renewable resources (fossil energy), to the contractual and economic impoverishment of small- and medium-sized farms, and the increased dependence of producers and final consumers on an oligopolistic management of the agrarian industry. Starting from the 1980s, and even more strongly in the 1990s, the European Community became aware of certain controversial aspects of conventional agricultural measures and activated a policy of returning to the extension of crops into marginal areas. However, a “post-industrial”

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evolution in Sardinian farmlands came about only minimally. A merely quantitative concept of economic development is now dominant among those who deal with agriculture, and this certainly does not favour a transformation of this kind.

Part two. Evolutionary processes and the future of agriculture18 Premise Sardinia’s agrarian economy, from the earliest historical times, has been characterized by two sectors: sheep breeding and cereal growing. The lands, with their paedoclimatic conditions and in particular the landholding regime, with an absolute prevalence of common possessions, undoubtedly contributed to this productive system, as well as historical vicissitudes (conquests, wars, feudalism and so on) that exerted their influence on the economic and social future of the region. Extensiveness thus represented the peculiar feature of agriculture and animal husbandry in Sardinia. Among the reasons for this reality there is the above quoted collective use of the land, which hindered the possibility of investments in land and agriculture and the changeover to a more intensive land use. The affirmation of the so-called “perfect proprietorship” did not lead to substantial variations as concerns intensive farming practices following the “Editto delle chiudende” (the Enclosure Edict) of 1820, even though it was not strongly enforced.

Agriculture in the 20th century: economic and regulatory features The Agrarian Land Register, drawn up in Italy in 1929, showed for Sardinia an agrarian and forest surface area of 2,203,000 and 121,000 hectares respectively on an overall area of 2,324,000 hectares. After sixty years, the change is underscored by the following figures: 1,783,000 hectares of agrarian land and 440,000 of forestland for a total of 2,223,000 hectares. The analysis of these data points not only to the reduction in the overall agrarian land, but also the dynamics of the single sectors: a strong contraction in cereal growing and an increase in horticultural and woody plant production, forage growing and forestry. The changes in crops that took place at the individual farm level together with the changes that took 18

By Francesco Nuvoli.

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place in the sector during this period are the results of investments promoted by the public sector, among other factors. The first incisive action on the land came about with the passing of the law on integral reclamation of 1st March 1924 and the subsequent Consolidation Act no. 215 of 1933. In the ten years from 1926 to 1935, the island saw the setting up of a consistent number of reclamation consortia and the consequent appearance of their intense activity. As concerns the nature of the soil and the orography of the regional territory, the activities of the consortia took place mostly in areas where there was a concrete possibility of using the reclaimed lands. At the beginning, reclamation removed the conditions that hindered the agricultural use of the land. The later stages aimed to increase the productivity of the land with the construction of the first hydraulic systems for soil protection and the laying of roads and collective irrigation systems. In 1990, the irrigable area amounted to 130,000 hectares, while the overall area of the consortia extended over 1,165,000 hectares. Considering the size of their lands and the works performed, the reclamation consortia undoubtedly played an important role in the region’s agricultural development. Reclamation activities received further impulse with the passing of Article 498 of the Royal Decree of 1946, which promoted the setting up of the Ente Autonomo del Flumendosa (E.A.F.) (Autonomous Agency for the Flumendosa) and Law no. 841 of 1950 (the so-called Legge stralcio Excerpt Law), the application of which led to the foundation of the Ente di Riforma Fondiaria ed Agraria della Sardegna (E.T.F.A.S.) (Agency for Land and Agrarian Reform in Sardinia). The works performed by ETFAS on the expropriated lands initially focused on reclamation and subsequent sowing. Later, the work concentrated on the transformation of single production units. The implementation of works concerning farms and the consequent planting of new and intensive crops undoubtedly represented progress, since it allowed cultural and professional advancement of farm entrepreneurs. In Sardinia, the area involved in the agrarian reform was 100,574 hectares, of which 96,114 were in the hands of E.T.F.A.S. and 4,560 were entrusted to the Ente Autonomo del Flumendosa. The passage to the analysis of the Sardinian legislator in the field of agriculture leads us to propose certain considerations for two of the most significant provisions enacted up to the present: cooperation in agriculture and agropastoral reform. With Law no. 46, passed in 1950, the regional government provided incentives for the setting up of cooperative processing plants. Cooperative activities mostly involved the grape and wine sector (with 39 cooperatives), the dairy sector (with 47 cooperatives), the fruit and vegetable sector (with 4 cooperatives), olive and olive oil

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production (with 22 oil mills) and citrus fruit (with 3 cooperatives). The wineries played a propulsive role in Sardinian wine production up to the 1980s. After that time, regional vineyards underwent a reduction caused by a massive recourse to the European Union incentives to uproot vineyards. This led to the destruction of half their area and the ceasing of the activities of several cooperative wineries. The dairy cooperatives were created mostly in opposition to private ewe’s milk processing companies in the sector that operated on the market in an oligopolistic regime. Generally speaking, private industrial enterprises have a wider area of influence and a more dynamic capacity for technological upgrading of plants compared to cooperative ventures. The action promoted by the dairy cooperatives, with the introduction of a competitive regime on the market, contributed to the growth of the entire sector. Cooperation in the fruit and vegetable sector did not have an important impact in consideration of the fact that only two of the four set up became operational. Finally, a certain impact was produced on the market by cooperatives in the citrus fruit and olive sectors. As concerns the second regional legislative provision, the agropastoral reform, which we shall now briefly examine, was triggered by the result of investigating the phenomenon of criminality in Sardinia (1972). The investigating committee recommended giving priority to the development of areas in the interior of the island, to be activated through the change in the land use and the organization of sheep breeding, with the passage from nomadism to a system with an adequate and stable base on the land. The conclusions of the committee were incorporated into Law no. 268 of 1974 by the national legislator and then by the regional council with Regional Law no. 44 of 1976. One of the provisions for its coming into force was the identification and delimitation of areas for agropastoral development. One hundred and thirteen areas, covering a total of 624,000 hectares, were identified for development. The funds set aside for this were used to create infrastructures (roads, rural electrification and so on) and for the transformation of lands in fifty of these areas. Assessment of the agropastoral reform, which has not been concluded in its executive stages, can be made on the basis of a cost-benefit analysis that takes into proper consideration not only the primary and secondary ones, but also the intangible costs and benefits. The latter, difficult to determine, are in any case of noteworthy importance especially if we consider the socioeconomic situation of the areas in the interior. During the last twenty years, in the Sardinian agricultural sector there has been a diffusion of important innovations of a structural nature, such as mechanization and irrigation. The adoption of these innovations is associated with the variation in cultivating techniques, which have become

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more intensive. But despite this important step forward, productivity in regional agriculture is lower than national and southern Italian levels. In the period under examination, besides the reduction of the farmland exploited, the number of farms, those working in the sector and the value of agricultural produce compared to the overall added value, there was a change in the individual segments of the sector: a reduction in cereal growing, in industrial and ornamental crops, wood crops and family vegetable gardens. At the same time, there was an increase in vegetable growing, as well as rotated forage crops and permanent pasturelands.

Sardinian agriculture: the present condition and prospects Productive base of Sardinian agriculture The productive base of Sardinian agriculture, considering the data of the latest general census of 2010, consists of 60,812 farms with a surface area of 1,153,691 hectares under cultivation (the total agricultural area is 1,470,562 hectares). The number of those employed in the sector was 29,000 in 2010, while in 2011 it increased by 3,000 to a total of 32,000 (INEA, Annuario dell’Agricoltura italiana 2011, 2012). The agricultural sector represents 3.3% of the overall total of added value of the regional economic system.19 From data on the economic contribution of the different sectors, Sardinian agriculture appears variably divided; beside sectors such as flower and plant raising and vegetable growing, where consistent amounts of capital have been invested and a high professional level of those employed has been reached, there are others in which the prevalent extensive organization of farm areas represents a limitation on investments and employment. There are also cases in which we can see only cattle-breeders, especially in the interior, where grazing is on municipal lands. In the light of this reality, which as we have said is rather varied, proposing a detailed analysis of the single segments may not be meaningful, since it is outside the territorial and social context in which production takes place. However, we feel that it is preferable to proceed to a reflection from a systematic viewpoint, in consideration of renewed interest in the sector.

19

The gross state product (GSP) of the sector, amounting to 1,627,384,000 euros, is divided into three large aggregations: crops, livestock and services connected with agriculture representing 41, 43 and 16 per cent respectively. Animal husbandry is prevalent, and this is a peculiarity of the sector in Sardinia.

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For agricultural produce and food production in general, especially in recent times, there is a demand that favours local and distinctive products on the one hand and standardized ones on the other. There is a tendency to prefer local products since their qualitative aspect connected with the intrinsic factors and technologies they incorporate is recognized and appreciated. Sardinia has a fairly ample range of typical agricultural produce and foodstuffs that have received recognition and thus come under regulatory protection. We can mention here the products bearing the DOP (Protected Designation of Origin - PDO) label: pecorino romano, pecorino sardo and fiore sardo cheese, saffron, olive oil and spiny artichokes. There is also one bearing an IGP (Protected Geographical Indication - PGI): Sardinian lamb. In oenology, 35 wines have received the following marks: 1 DOCG (Controlled and Guaranteed Denomination of Origin), 19 DOC (Controlled Denomination of Origin) and 15 IGT (Typical Geographical Indication) wines. To this list as many as 178 traditional kinds of foodstuff can also be added, classified as such on the basis of Law no. 350 of 1999, and belonging to different categories, such as beverages, meat, cheese, bakery products, sweets and so on.

Figure 15.2. Sheep on pastures. Piras-Mazzette farm, Ploaghe (Province of Sassari)

The exploitation of such goods can favour the development of their areas of production, which are mostly rural, often underdeveloped and

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marginal. As regards exploitation of local resources, the European Union has addressed this issue through implementation of rural development measures. Among the initiatives promoted, we can mention the Leader Programme. Evaluation of this initiative, besides indicators of a strictly economic nature, must take into account the peculiar social fabric of the areas in which it is implemented. The reason is that the socio-economic context to be found in different areas of Sardinia is one of an insufficient amount of capital. Bottom-to-top planning, through direct involvement of those interested in the proposal and activation of business plans, can lead, if not to interrupting, at least to limiting the depopulation of rural areas in the interior. It is known that in order to exploit local resources, national legislation, with Article 13 of Decree Law no. 228 of 2001 “Orientation and Modernization of the Agricultural Sector”, provides for the setting up of “quality rural and food production districts”.20 Let us now examine, after considering the present state of the so-called distinctive products whose economic location is for the most part in the interior areas, the situation of the more advanced farm areas where we find the products indicated as standardized. In these areas, equipped with collective irrigation systems and where it is possible, given their favourable paedoclimatic environment, to differentiate what they produce to a certain extent, we find a limited range of crops instead. In fact, business choices favour crops that can benefit from comparative advantages and can easily and surely be placed on the market. Here we can mention vegetables, artichokes, tomatoes (industrial and salad ones), rice, citrus fruits, peaches and grapes. In dry areas durum wheat, minor cereals (barley and oats), olives and almonds prevail. Concerning these crops, at the place of production there is the presence of organizations for the aggregation of the offer and the common processing and marketing. Twelve Organizations of Producers (OP) have been set up in the fruit and vegetable sector and just over twenty in the others, among which there is a prevalence of dairy products, while others involve producers of rice, durum wheat, poultry, grapes and wine, honey and organic products. The functions performed by the OPs are the concentration of the offer and the marketing of members’ products. For their activities, the OPs benefit from 20

As far as this is concerned, it is to be observed that Plans for Local Action (PAL) drawn up by the 13 Groups for Local Action (GAL) of the Sardinian Regional Administration, activated for the 2007-2013 planning period, consider rural districts the proper instrument leading to an endogenous territorial development. Thus, measures for territorial development and for that of local resources involve not only agricultural produce and foodstuffs.

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funds provided by the laws in force (Legislative Decree no. 102 of 2005 and Regional Law no. 3 of 2008), the positive effects of which appear in the profitability of members’ businesses. Concentration is thus stimulated by a purely economic consideration, but in any case it also has consequences in the social sphere since it contributes to the creation and intensification of a state of participation in the initiatives of the OPs and thus of creating greater cohesion in the society.21 Among the innovations in Sardinian agriculture, we can mention the activities of those who produce the so-called ready-to-eat vegetables. The supplying of raw materials is entrusted to local producers who sign growing contracts with the entrepreneurs managing the processing plant. Substantially, through this dichotomous analysis of Sardinian agriculture we arrive, in the final stage, at a univocal proposition that emphasises the opportunity of providing incentives for forms of concentration. The benefits that may derive from these are not only economic, but also social, with the strengthening of social cohesion among those participating in it. As for the important advantages that may improve agriculture and rural Sardinia in general, we believe it useful to make some points on the new agricultural policies of the European Union. Opportunities for a re-evaluation The opportunities for a re-evaluation, together with the agricultural sector, of the socio-economic context of rural territories as well, may come from the application of executive plans for development promoted by the Community Agricultural Policy (CAP) for the period from 2014 to 2020. The new plan to be implemented in this period derives from the agreement reached by three bodies: the European Parliament, Council and Commission. It introduces, as concerns measures of the so-called first pillar (that deal with price and market policies) and those of the second pillar (that apply to measures for rural development), important innovations whose implementation may produce strong effects in the sector. Speaking of first pillar policies, among the innovations introduced we shall deal with the question of aids to young farmers. The agreement 21

From this point of view we can mention the setting up of networks of enterprises that already work in certain sectors as an innovation in the Sardinian agricultural context. The networks of companies set up pursuant to Law no. 33 of 2009 include all those involved in the entire process, from farmers to processors up to the final product, with their participation in the operative margins and the distribution of the added value within the chain itself.

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calls for each state to set aside funds for young farmers who, however, cannot exceed 2% of the national cap. This is an important initiative reserved for farm owners below the age of 40, who for five years are granted a sum corresponding to the re-evaluation of 25% of the titles (that is, of the amount of aid) they possess. This decision is to be considered certainly useful, especially in regions like Sardinia where the average age of workers in the primary sector is rather high. Therefore, besides favouring a generation turnover, this initiative may contribute to calling young people back to farming in the light of the signals coming from the precarious employment situation in other economic sectors.

Figure 15.3. Milking stable. Piras-Mazzette farm, Ploaghe (Province of Sassari)

The agreement reached by the three European bodies has also introduced innovation in the second pillar measures. A first consideration regards the real structure of the new rural development programmes (RDP) which will no longer be divided on an axes basis but will have six thematic priorities as their constitutive elements, each of them including focuses amounting to eighteen on the whole. Among the thematic priorities, the sixth reads, “Promoting social inclusion, poverty reduction and economic development in rural areas”, which, with reference to the regional situation, is certainly worthy of special attention. It is in line with the objectives proposed in Europe for the harmonization of policies and, in this case, the measures for rural development and those for cohesion. In

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Sardinia’s rural areas, and even more so in the so-called interior areas, aspects of associational life appear to be characterized by a modest, and in certain cases a lack of trust among the people and between the people and the institutions. These are environments where the strengthening of the amount of social capital can certainly favour the development of a coherent social fabric for the concrete sharing of proposals for territorial development. Among other things, in several municipal environments with a predominance of communal lands in the internal areas, such lands are not used rationally and can thus be exploited, while conserving traditional common uses at the same time, pursuant to the provisions of Regional Law no. 12 of 1994. The new policy for rural development also offers other opportunities through the innovative inclusion of possible initiatives for cooperation and the creation of networks of companies that, as we have seen, are useful instruments in improving the competitiveness of the sector. Finally, we can point out that the agricultural sector and rural lands are going through a delicate period in their evolution in the socio-economic sphere. And the choice that the public decision-maker is called upon to implement so as to trigger the development process by means of the new planning policy will have to keep the role they intend to assign to agriculture in the regional economic context strongly in mind.

References AA.VV. “Le lotte per la terra in Sardegna. 1944-1950”. In Archivio sardo del movimento operaio contadino e autonomistico, Cagliari, 1985. Anatra, Bruno. “Economia sarda e commercio mediterraneo nel basso medioevo e nell’età moderna”. In Storia dei Sardi e della Sardegna, edited by Massimo Guidetti. Milan: Jaca Book, vol. 3, pp. 109-216, 1989. Angioni, Giulio. “Parare fronte”. In I pascoli erranti. Antropologia del pastore in Sardegna. Naples: Liguori, pp. 249-257, 1989. —. Rapporti di produzione e cultura subalterna. Contadini in Sardegna. Cagliari: EDES, 1982. Asole, Angela. “La nascita di abitati in Sardegna dall’Alto Medioevo ai giorni nostri”, In Atlante della Sardegna, edited by Roberto Pracchi. Cagliari-Rome: Kappa, 1980 (suppl. to number II). Barca, Fabrizio. Italia frenata. Paradossi e lezioni della politica per lo sviluppo. Rome: Donzelli Editore, 2006.

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Berger, Allen H. Cooperation, Conflict and Production Environment in Highland Sardinia: a Study of the Associational Life of Transhumant Shepherds. P.h.D. thesis, Columbia University, 1986. Betza, Tommaso. La nuova PAC per la Sardegna. Report at the congress promoted by the Association of Agrarian Students, Sassari, 2013. Braudel, Fernand. La dinamica del capitalismo. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1981, Italian translation. Cabiddu, Gino. Usi costumi riti e tradizioni popolari della Trexenta. Cagliari: Fossataro, 1965. Commissione Europea. Europa 2020 - Una strategia per una crescita intelligente, sostenibile e inclusiva. Brussels: COM (2010) 2020. Day, John. “La Sardegna come laboratorio di storia coloniale”. In Quaderni bolotanesi, Bolotana (NU), pp. 143-148, 1990. —. Uomini e terre nella Sardegna coloniale. Turin: CELID, 1987. Farinelli, Franco. “Lo spazio rurale nell’Italia d’oggi”. In Storia dell’agricoltura italiana, edited by Piero Bevilacqua. Venice: Marsilio, vol. 1, pp. 229-247, 1989. Frascarelli, Angelo. Il nuovo sistema di pagamenti diretti. Rome: Workshop, 2013. Georgescu-Roegen, Nicholas. “Gli aspetti istituzionali delle comunità contadine”. In Energia e miti economici, edited by Nicholas Georgescu-Roegen. Turin: Einaudi, 1982, chap. 5, Italian translation. INEA. Annuario dell’agricoltura italiana. Rome, 2011, 2012. —. Rapporto sullo stato dell’agricoltura 2013. Rome: CSR, 2013. ISTAT. Annuario statistico (Various years), Censimento generale dell’Agricoltura, 2010. Le Lannou, Maurice. Pastori e contadini di Sardegna. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1976 (original edition: Tours, 1939). Loi, Antonio, Margherita Zaccagnini. Geografia dei sistemi agricoli italiani. La Sardegna, Rome: REDA, 1996. Mantegazza, Paolo. Profili e paesaggi della Sardegna. Milan, 1869. Massullo, Gino. “La riforma agraria”. In Storia dell’agricoltura italiana, edited by Piero Bevilacqua. Venice: Marsilio, vol. 3, pp. 508-542, 1991. Merler, Alberto. “L’emigrazione”. In La Sardegna, edited by Manlio Brigaglia. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, vol. 1, pp. 171-175, 1982. Mori, Alberto. La Sardegna. Turin: UTET, 1975. NOMISMA. La politica agricola europea nell’Ue allargata. Rome: A.G.R.A., 2005.

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Ortu, Gian Giacomo. L’economia pastorale nella Sardegna moderna. Saggio di antropologia storica sulla “soccida”. Cagliari: Edizioni della Torre, 1981. Parascandolo, Fabio. “Il pastoralismo tra cultura e ambiente di produzione”. In La città nuova. Naples, pp. 53-58, 1993(a). —. Un centro rurale nella Sardegna contemporanea. Territorio e modernizzazione: il caso di Teulada. Cagliari: CUEC, 1993(b). —. “I caratteri territoriali della modernità nelle campagne sarde: un’interpretazione”. In Annali della Facoltà di Magistero dell’Università di Cagliari. Cagliari, pp. 139-186, 1995. —. Sardegna rurale e modernità. In I valori dell’agricoltura nel tempo e nello spazio. Atti del Convegno Geografico Internazionale, edited by Maria Gemma Grillotti Di Giacomo and Lidia Moretti. Rome: Brigati, vol. II, pp. 695-713, 1998. —. “Ruralità e sviluppo del territorio in Italia: è tempo di bilanci”. In Agricultura. Terra Lavoro Ecosistemi, edited by R. Bocci and G. Ricoveri. CNS – Ecologia Politica, Quaderno n. 2. Bologna: EMI, pp. 45-56, 2006. —. “Fra terra e cibo. Sistemi agroalimentari nel mondo attuale (e in Italia)”. In Scienze del territorio, no. 1, pp. 287-296, 2013. Perna, Tonino. Lo sviluppo insostenibile. La crisi del capitalismo nelle aree periferiche: il caso del Mezzogiorno. Naples: Liguori, 1994. Pigliaru, Antonio. La vendetta barbaricina come ordinamento giuridico. Milan: Giuffrè, 1959. Pirastu, Ignazio. Il banditismo in Sardegna. Rome: Editori Riuniti, 1973. Polanyi, Karl. La sussistenza dell’uomo. Il ruolo dell’economia nelle società antiche, Italian translation. Turin: Einaudi, 1983. Pupo D’andrea, Maria Rosaria. Finestra sulla PAC. INEA. Agriregionieuropa, 2013. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna (RAS). “Quale agricoltura per gli anni ‘90?”. In Atti della Conferenza Regionale dell’Agricoltura, Cagliari, 68 marzo 1991. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna (RAS), Deliberazione n. 37/5 del 12/09/2013. Rudas, Nereide. L’emigrazione sarda. Rome: Centro Studi Emigrazione, 1974. Sereni, Emilio. Il capitalismo nelle campagne (1860-1900). Turin: Einaudi, 1968. Shiva, Vandana. Sopravvivere allo sviluppo. Turin: ISEDI, 1990, Italian translation. Sotgiu, Gerolamo. Storia della Sardegna dopo l’Unità. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1986.

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—. Storia della Sardegna sabauda. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1984. Varvaro, Paolo. “Storia dell’agricoltura e questione meridionale”. In Linea d’ombra, 72. Milan, pp. 15-17, 1992. Zaccagnini, Margherita. “Le molte Sardegne. Geografia umana di un’isola fra tradizione e modernità”. In Archivio Storico Sardo. Cagliari, pp. 150-238, 1995. —. Sardegna. “Trasformazioni recenti e nuove configurazioni subregionali”. In Memorie della Società Geografica Italiana. Rome, pp. 540-556, 1989.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN TOURISM IN SARDINIA: A POTENTIAL YET TO BE ACHIEVED MONICA IORIO

Introduction Sardinia is considered a jewel in the Mediterranean Sea and its reputation as a dreamlike tourist destination is internationally acknowledged. Its waters have recently been ranked amongst the 15 clearest waters in the world to swim in before you die (Albano, 2014). However, tourism development in Sardinia occurred later than in other Mediterranean islands, like Corsica or Sicily, for example (Price, 1983). This is mainly due to historical and socio-economic conditions. Despite being on an island, Sardinians were not used to spending much of their lives on the coasts since these were often occupied by invaders and infected by malaria; instead they built towns and villages and worked in the inner parts of the island where they developed a pastoral and agriculture based economy (Le Lannou, 1941). Tourism as an economic activity began in 1948 when the island experienced its first investments in the sector and the formulation of its first development plans whilst, at the same time, achieving the status of an autonomous region and the definitive eradication of malaria from the coastal areas. The first marketing initiatives and infrastructural developments were spearheaded by the regional organization ESIT (Ente Sardo Industrie Turistiche – Sardinian Tourism Authority) that promoted, as well as financed, the construction of some of the hotel developments. The first breakthrough in this sector occurred between 1950 and 1960 and mainly in the municipality of Alghero and its Riviera del Corallo. Tourist days stayed in 1955 stood at 357,000, a figure which by 1961 doubled to around 760,000 (Poddighe, 2001; Solinas, 1997). However, the main boost in this sector came during the early sixties when the Ishmaelite Prince

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Shah Karim Al Hussaini Aga Khan (IV) developed the Costa Smeralda with Porto Cervo, in the municipality of Arzachena, as its centre of excellence, thus becoming the symbol of the island’s tourism (Bandinu, 1980; Roggio, 2002). Whilst the Costa Smeralda gained popularity with the international jet set, new tourism facilities were rapidly being developed in many of the coastal municipalities around the island (Solinas, 1997). Other localities followed suit, developing many other facilities which offered a similar type of tourism experience, namely Baja Sardinia and Liscia di Vacca, just to mention a few in the vicinity. Moreover, other parts of Sardinia also experienced an exponential development of this sector, thus becoming one of the principle economic activities on the island. Tourist days stayed kept on increasing consistently, doubling during every decade - from less than a million in 1960 to approximately 2 million in the seventies, increasing to over 4 million in the eighties and almost 7 million in the nineties (Leccis, 1999), and reaching 10 million during the early years of the 21st century. Nonetheless, since the seventies, due to the lack of spatial/territorial planning policies and environmental protection measures, many of the coastal areas on the island have experienced intensive construction primarily resulting from the development of second homes. Since the nineties various regional administrations have tried to formulate policies with the aim of protecting the coastal areas, culminating in the approval of the Regional Territorial Plan (Piano Paesistico Regionale), the first one in Italy, which introduced a series of policies aimed at drastically decreasing the development of potential opportunities that would have transformed entire stretches of the coast (RAS, 2006). However, this plan has been withdrawn and is currently being revised. Whilst awaiting the coming into force of the new plan, the current law related to the improvement of buildings has established that only improvements to existing coastal structures will be permitted. The additional volume created (which must not exceed 25% of what is legally built) should result in the development of additional facilities that would improve the accommodation offer rather than the creation of new bed spaces (Regional Regulation No. 39/2 of 10.10.2014). In recent years the tourism product has changed and has been increasingly diversified: in addition to the sun, sea and sand product, elements like archaeology, culture, nature, sport and events have become an important backbone to the development of tourism. Yet the success or otherwise of these new attractions is still to be determined in the long term.

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Faced with increasing competition from other Mediterranean tourist destinations and international economic instability, the challenges for Sardinia as a tourist destination certainly rely on the strengthening of the quality of its tourism product, strongly dependent on its unique and singular elements that characterize its territory. In addition to this, an updating of the tourism regional policy aimed at a more systemic and coordinated management of the sector is a matter of immediate urgency. The following sections will give an analytical look at those elements that have characterized the model of tourism development in Sardinia, examining the recent tourist flows and outlining critical issues that tourism in the island will have to face to remain competitive in the entire Mediterranean scenario.

Locational and temporal aspects of tourism: The predominance of seaside tourism The main strength of the region’s tourism system is without doubt its maritime and seaside characteristics. The natural resources Sardinia is endowed with along its approximately 1,800 km of coast have determined, throughout the years, the creation of the region’s image as an ‘ideal’ destination, especially with the Italian market segment seeking a summer holiday by the sea. There are, however, other sectors that have a major relevance in the development of an image of excellence with which to promote Sardinia as a tourist destination. The regional administration, on its official web site, dedicates a section specifically to ‘Sardegna Turismo’ (Sardinia Tourism) where the promotion of the tourism product in the island identifies various special-interest sectors, which include sporting activities, taste of Sardinia, culture, traditions, villages, the sea, nature and wellbeing (http://www. sardegnaturismo.it/en/Holidays). According to the latest available statistics, licensed tourist accommodation in Sardinia consists of 4,104 establishments with a total of 204,571 beds. Hotels form the major share of this type of tourist facility (77.8%). Within this accommodation sector, 3-star establishments predominate (45%), whilst higher-class accommodations (4-star and higher) constitute about 30%. In the other accommodation categories, bed and breakfast establishments predominate (62.7%), whilst agro-tourism establishments account for only 20% (Table 16.1).

Tourism in Sardinia: A Potential Yet to be Achieved

5-star hotels

25

% of total accommodation 2.7

4-star hotels

248

27.2

3-star hotels

412

45.1

2-star hotels

97

10.6

1-star hotels

46

5.0

Type of accommodation

Number of units

Aparthotels and complexes

85

9.3

TOTAL

913

100

Campsites and holiday villages

90

2.8

Holiday apartments/homes

426

13.4

Agrotourism

639

20.0

Youth hostels

12

0.4

Social tourism accommodation

18

0.6

Other tourist accommodation

4

0.1

Bed and breakfast

2,002

62.7

TOTAL

3,191

100

223

Table 16.1. Tourism accommodation by category for 2012. Source: RAS, 2014 With regard to spatial distribution, the province with the greatest number of beds is Olbia-Tempio, accounting for over a third of the island’s total with approximately 80,000 tourist beds (Table 16.2). This province also has the highest number of quality hotels, accounting for 42% of the total bed capacity in this category (4-star and higher), followed by the provinces of Cagliari and Sassari. These are the areas where Sardinia’s tourism industry had its beginnings, thanks to the presence of the island’s three airports (Olbia-Costa Smeralda, Cagliari-Elmas, Alghero-Fertilia) and popular locations of international fame - Costa Smeralda, Riviera del Corallo, Villasimius and Pula. The predominance of the maritime-seaside aspect of Sardinia’s tourism heavily conditioned the distribution of accommodation facilities amongst coastal and internal localities. In fact, the majority of tourist establishments are located in the coastal municipalities, with a mosaic distribution that reflects the tourism polarity of the northeast, northwest, southeast and southwest coastal stretches (Figure 16.1), which are the entry points to the island both by sea and by air.

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Province

Hotels Units

Beds

Other accommodation Units Beds

TOTAL Units

Beds

Sassari

117

15,110

790

14,975

907

30,085

Nuoro

102

10,089

337

9,139

439

19,228

Cagliari

186

24,838

602

15,637

788

40,475

Oristano OlbiaTempio Ogliastra Medio Campidano CarboniaIglesias TOTAL

61

3,845

460

9,130

521

12,975

290

43,248

511

35,639

801

78,887

65

5,870

142

8,099

207

13,969

32

1,215

115

1,413

147

2,628

60

3,049

234

3,275

294

6,324

913

107,264

3,191

97,307

4,104

204,571

Table 16.2. Tourism accommodation in hotels and other types of accommodation by Province for 2012. Source: RAS, 2014

Figure 16.1. Distribution of accommodation establishments by municipality (2011). Source: CRENoS, 2013

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With regard to tourist flows, in 2012, approximately 2.12 million tourist arrivals were recorded, accounting for 10.8 million days stayed and an average length of stay of approximately 5 days (Table 16.3). With reference to the spatial distribution of the accommodation establishments, tourist flows are also concentrated in the provinces of Olbia-Tempio, Cagliari and Sassari (Appendix A). On examining the composition of tourist flows, Sardinia seems to attract primarily domestic tourists (59% of all days stayed compared to the national average of 53%), rather than international tourists (Table 16.3). Nonetheless, the trend in the last decade has shown an increase in international tourist days stayed which, in 2003, accounted for approximately only 27% of total days stayed (CRENoS, 2014). The entry of low cost airlines linking the main airports of Cagliari, Olbia and Alghero with other major European cities was a determining factor in this growth. Origin Hotels

Arrivals Days stayed Other Other Total Hotels Total accomm. accomm. 268,700 1,247,003 4,470,659 1,971,869 6,442,528

Italians 978,303 Non649,442 222,673 Italians TOTAL 1,627,745 491,373

872,115

3,213,241 1,187,408

4,400,649

2,119,118 7,683,900 3,159,277 10,843,177

Table 16.3. Tourist arrivals and days stayed by origin and type of accommodation for 2012. Source: RAS, 2014 With regard to the nationality of tourists, the Germans, French and Swiss account for over half of the total international tourist arrivals. These are followed by the British who, together with the Austrians, Spanish, Dutch and Russians, account for an additional 25% of international tourist arrivals. Worth noting is the growth in the Spanish and Russian markets (CRENoS, 2014). Approximately 83% of total tourist days stayed in Sardinia concentrate in the months of June to September, with a peak in August (28%). On analysing the percentage of days stayed by country of origin in detail, some differences significantly emerge between domestic and international tourists (Figure 16.2). Domestic tourists prefer the month of August, whilst the international market peaks in July. Whereas for international tourists the summer season starts in May rather than June, with the Italian market the season ends in October rather than in September. When adding together days stayed in the shoulder months

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(May and October), international tourists account for almost 16% of total annual days stayed against 6% of Italian tourists for these same two months. However, in the last decade an overall trend in the reduction of the seasonality factor can be noticed (CRENoS, 2014).

The critical issues: the spatial-temporal concentration of tourism and the second homes phenomenon The predominance in consumption of maritime-seaside tourism is at the origin of major concerns. Firstly, the concentration of tourism activity in spatial (the coast) and temporal (summer) dimensions has already been observed. Amongst the various causes of this spatial-temporal concentration is the consistent and functional inability of the hospitality establishments to attract tourists outside the summer season - most of these establishments are predominantly seasonal and not adequately equipped to offer, or even attract, forms of alternative tourism other than the maritime-seaside type. This results in significant environmental impacts on the primary resources/attractions (the coastal stretch) and a low economic integration with the hinterland, together with an under-utilization of the existing hospitality infrastructure, which only operates for a few months of the year. In fact, the average occupancy levels of the accommodation establishments range from a minimum 2.7% in January to a maximum 64.2% in August, with an annual average at 23.6%, undeniably much lower than the national average of 31.5% (CRENoS, 2014). As a result of this situation, the tourism industry suffers from a few inefficiencies both within the labour market as well as with suppliers, in that the high seasonal fluctuations in demand hinder the hospitality sector in consolidating the island’s attractions in terms of its assets, services and other elements of the industry (RAS, 2007). Moreover, tourism in Sardinia is characterized by the strong phenomenon of holiday houses that consistently contributes to the increasing negative impacts of the spatial-temporal concentration problem, both from an environmental perspective as well as from an economic one. Holiday houses, by avoiding regulation and other forms of control, hinder a correct structuring of a locality’s services, resulting in negative environmental effects on several fronts. These include the degradation of the landscape and of the tourist product offer, the pressure on the water supply and treatment facilities as well as the transport infrastructure, the increased production of waste and conflicts with residents (Corsale et al., 2007; Usai & Vannini, 2007).

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From an economic point of view, classified accommodation has experienced a shift in demand, resulting from the fact that it is competing in a situation of unfavourable market conditions with respect to unlicensed accommodation. Unlicensed holiday houses, in fact, do not incur the costs which are imposed on licensed accommodation, account for a higher percentage of total demand, primarily during the high season and are the cause of a lower utilization of accommodation stock during the low season. These arguments are confirmed by estimates made at a regional level (RAS, 2007). Another critical issue of the Sardinian tourism system is the poor integration between the tourism sector, in its narrow sense (accommodation and catering), and other regional productive sectors, for example the agrobusiness and craft industry. Such a critical situation is mainly the result of two related causes. The first concerns the production system: the traditional sectors suffer a relative weakness in guaranteeing a consistent quantitative and qualitative standard to meet demand by the accommodation and catering sectors, which in turn seek outside sources to obtain the necessary raw materials and professionals to meet their own productive requirements. The second concerns their lack of ability to attract a higher number of foreign tourists, who generally have a stronger spending power than Italians and are more inclined to buy local products. This leads to a low level of tourist expenditure in the local economy compared to that in other more evolved tourist localities, in the sense that part of that spending leaks out of the economy in the form of imports.

Beyond seaside tourism. Agrotourism Agrotourism has the potential to offer a diversified product, extend the tourism season and encourage local community development in the Sardinian interior areas. The agrotourism sector demonstrates long-term growth, characterized by the progressive increase in the number of establishments (57 in 1987, 346 in 1997, 681 in 2007, 827 in 2013) and an increasing territorial distribution with 247 municipalities out of 377 having at least one operating establishment (RAS, 2014). The territorial distribution of agrotourism activities as on 31st December 2013 is as follows: - 169 in the province of Olbia - Tempio (20.43% of total) - 151 in the province of Sassari (18.26%) - 151 in the province of Nuoro (18.26%)

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- 123 in the province of Cagliari (14.87%) - 120 in the province of Oristano (14.51%) - 44 in the province of Carbonia-Iglesias (5.32%) - 39 in the province of Medio Campidano (4.72%) - 30 in the province of Ogliastra (3.63%). Such activity is clearly predominant in the northern provinces (OlbiaTempio, Nuoro and Sassari), whereas the south-central area still falls behind, as is clear in the provinces of Ogliastra, Carbonia-Iglesias and Medio Campidano, which together account for only 13.67% of the region’s total offer in this sector. Locational factors – primarily the proximity to the traditional tourist attractions (mainly seaside localities) – are a determining factor, first, since the agrotourism businesses can capitalize on the nearby main tourist flows, and secondly, depending on their location, the agrotourism establishments can, more or less, enjoy various services they can make use of (DEISS, 2003). Overall, the distribution of the 827 Sardinian agrotourism establishments demonstrates a balance between the coastal (51%) and interior (49%) municipalities, evidently showing the actual and existing potential to promote local development in the interior localities of Sardinia. The distribution in the province of Nuoro (95 establishments in internal municipalities compared to 56 in coastal municipalities) is particularly interesting, boasting some of the most successful establishments in the Sardinian region. Around 60% of all establishments in Sardinia offer both accommodation and restaurant/catering facilities, whilst 22% offer restaurant facilities and 15% accommodation only. In addition, 11 establishments (1.3%) offer agro-camping facilities and 15 establishments (1.8%) offer trekking and horse-riding activities and the sale of local products, services highly appreciated by tourists that seek such establishments for their rural holiday experience. Out of the total establishments, 92 (11.1%) offer other services (i.e. camping and/or trekking and horse riding activities) together with accommodation and restaurant facilities. The current territorial distribution of such establishments shows a clear concentration of activity in localities with an altitude lower than 300 - 400 metres, with a distance from the coast allowing daily movements with minimal discomfort (DEISS, 2003). The structure of the Sardinian agrotourism sector has already achieved the potential of getting to a level of success equal to the one of the seaside offer, with the possibility of triggering a spiral effect able to create several advantages for both sectors (Masu, 2002). Moreover, it is possible to strengthen an image of Sardinia

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not solely linked to its maritime-seaside attractions. This can be achieved through the definition of ‘homogeneous zones’ of strong agrotourist activity, the promotion of an entrepreneurial culture, the certification of the quality of the establishments, the appreciation of the agro-business, the creation of gastronomic, cultural and eco itineraries and the setting up of a databank on the web listing local resources (Corsale et al., 2007).

Cultural tourism Cultural heritage is a key resource in offering a wider tourism product in spatial and temporal terms, strongly linked to the distinctiveness of the territory, and therefore unique and unequalled. Tourists interested in experiencing and improving their knowledge of the identities of the destinations they visit represent a trend that is increasing internationally. From this point of view, Sardinia certainly offers visitors vast tangible and intangible heritage. The island prides itself on four entries in the World Heritage List, the nuragic complex at Barumini in the cultural heritage list, the Sardinian pastoral songs known as Canto a Tenore and the Descent of shoulder-borne Candlesticks in Sassari, both part of the oral intangible heritage list, and the Geological and Mining Park of Sardinia within the Global Geoparks Network. Archaeological remains of immense value are still being unearthed, like the recent discoveries of the giants of Mont’e Prama (Hooper, 2014). Varied and immense is the heritage linked to religious festivities, folklore and the mining-industrial heritage, which is greatly undervalued as yet. The following section gives an analysis of this segment of the tourism product with reference to museums and archaeological sites, a sector which has noticeably grown in the last 15 years, at least in terms of the number of visitors to museums (Aru & Piscedda, 2007; Iorio, 2007). In 2011 the total number of active cultural heritage establishments in Sardinia amounted to 225 units, equivalent to 5% of the national total or 20% of those located in the south of Italy and sufficient to put the region in eighth place in the national ranking and first amongst the southern regions (Renoldi & Sistu, 2015). Ethnographic, anthropological and archaeological museums predominate, followed at a lower percentage by those with a science-nature based theme or relating to contemporary and sacred art. With respect to archaeology, archaeological areas prevail over archaeological parks, whilst with respect to monuments it is the religious buildings, fortifications or military architecture, archaeological remains and industrial archaeology sites that prevail (Table 16.4).

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In terms of territorial distribution, the provinces of Cagliari and Sassari lead in this regard, even though emerging attractions are widely distributed throughout the rest of the territory. Specifically, there is a prevalent trend for cultural attractions to locate in non-coastal locations, which account for 60% of total establishments. At the same time, the limited extent of the offer is apparent by the presence of at least one such active establishment in only 32% of the Sardinian municipalities (Iorio, 2007; Renoldi & Sistu, 2015). Museums Art (Medieval to 1800) Modern and contemporary art (1900 onwards) Sacred art Archaeology History Natural history and Science Science and technology Ethnography and anthropology Specialized museums Industrial / entrepreneurial museums Archaeological areas and parks Archaeological areas Archaeological parks Others Monuments and heritage buildings Churches or other religious buildings Villas or palaces of historic/artistic value Parks or gardens of historic/artistic value Military architecture and fortifications Buildings of historic/artistic architectural value Archaeological remains Industrial archaeology sites Ethnography and anthropology Specialized museums Industrial / entrepreneurial museums

Table 16.4. Cultural Heritage establishments by type in 2011. Source: Renoldi & Sistu, 2015.

% of total 3.9 9.7 10.4 20.8 5.2 11.7 5.8 25.3 4.5 2.6 % of total 70.2 27.7 2.1 % of total 33.3 0 0 29.2 4.2 20.8 12.5 25.3 4.5 2.6

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On examining the achievements of cultural heritage, the number of visitors recorded is approximately 1.6 million visitors. This is concentrated mainly in non-government establishments (about 70%), and primarily related to museums (about 57%). On further examination, on the one hand it is evident that 58% of the total visitors are concentrated in coastal municipalities (as against the 40% share of total establishments) whilst just 10 municipalities out of 177, representing a share of 24% of total establishments, account for 59% of total visitors. Mapping this scenario allows a better opportunity to examine its geography (Figure 16.3). Visitor flows tend to concentrate in the main tourist coastal municipalities, amongst which are Alghero, Castelsardo, La Maddalena, Arzachena, Dorgali, Pula, Sant’Antioco and Cabras. This indicates that a visit to the archaeological sites is part of the seaside holiday experience and essentially takes the form of an excursion. The majority of flows, moreover, seem to spread along the main transport network of the island. In this sense, one notes the low level of visitors in those areas where the road network is deficient and hence accessibility for visitors is rather difficult. Clearly, the demand for Sardinian culture is closely dependent on seaside tourism (Iorio, 2007). This dependence can, however, be seen as an opportunity and a strength, if success is achieved in intercepting tourism flows towards the coastal localities through initiatives aimed at raising the quality of museums. One of the main problems regarding museums on the island is the fragmentation of the offer. Rather than increasing growth in small museums, there is actually a dispersion of initiatives, which considerably limits their effectiveness. Undoubtedly, the high amount of museums is indicative of pride in one’s identity, which the community have all the right to manifest. Nonetheless, it is equally true that this leads to a repetition in the offer (for example the numerous ethnographic museums, the majority of which are ‘home museums’ representing pastoral and agricultural life which propose a similar experience without great variations) and a noticeable distribution of such structures with visitor levels not sufficiently high to sustain their viability. In fact, there has been an over-valuation of the economic profitability of cultural heritage, which, more often than not, led local administrations to perceive museums as solely social compensations, without having an effective plan regarding their running and operation, underestimating their management requirements. The system of managing museums and archaeological sites presents a number of critical issues. A lack of properly trained personnel, moreover

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below demand levels, as well as a lack of knowledge of the visitors’ characteristics and requirements, a limited drive and originality both in the services offered (which are more often than not standardized - guided tours and didactic educational activities) and in the promotion of events are all factors that contribute to the persisting low levels of visitors (Iorio, 2007). It is also true that those managing these establishments are gearing up to develop additional facilities and services, namely bookshops, merchandising and catering services (Renoldi & Sistu, 2015). In addition, with regard to heritage and museum management, there are a number of ‘best practices’ offering various tools that may be applied with success to the specific requirements of the establishment (Iorio & Wall, 2012). The current approach to the role of culture and cultural tourism in promoting the introduction of innovative management measures, capable of initiating synergies between the several territorial players and the economic sectors, becomes vitally important, taking into account the horizontal and vertical interrelations between cultural heritage, the environment, the economic reality and civil society.

The recent trends in tourist flows: loss of competitivity? Within the scenario of the negative economic situation existing at national and international levels, since 2008 the island has seen stagnation at first and subsequently a decline in the total days stayed (Figure 16.4). These figures are clearly in opposition to the trend that is occurring internationally, in the Mediterranean region and at a national level. In fact, at an international level, 2013 recorded an annual growth of 5% in international tourist arrivals, and at a Mediterranean level Sardinia’s close competitors have registered a noticeable increase in international tourist arrivals (Greece + 15%; Turkey +10%; Malta +9%; Portugal +8.1%; Croatia +5.6%) (UNWTO, 2014). These figures are to be read within the scenario of the significant changes that have occurred with regard to the accessibility of the island, resulting in a progressive decrease in the total passengers arriving by sea and, on the other hand, an increase in those arriving by air, which since 2010 has exceeded the former (Renoldi, 2014). The negative trend in days stayed has worried both the hotel accommodation sector as well as that including the other types of accommodation, with the former facing market concerns since 2008.

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At the same time, the island has seen an increase in the number of available licensed beds, primarily along the coastal stretch and in a significant degree within the hotel sector itself (between 2007 and 2012, approximately 10,000 new bed places were recorded). Consequently, hotels experienced a reduction in their occupancy rate. This reduction in flows is, above all, a result of the progressive decrease in Italian tourists, who are more sensitive to the adverse economic situation and traditionally have been the main client of the Sardinian hospitality industry. This decrease is only partially compensated for by the arrivals from international foreign markets (Figure 16.4). Upmarket tourism, on the other hand, has been stable - the higher-class establishments are the only ones not to be adversely affected by the economic situation and the changing tourist consumption behavior both at national and international levels (Figure 16.5).

Figure 16.5. Average annual % change in days stayed by type of accommodation (2007 – 2012). Source: Istat, 2014

It is important to state that these statistics refer only to licensed accommodation establishments and are therefore an underestimation of the level of tourist flows. The black economy phenomenon is also present on the island both in terms of licensed establishments which under-declare registered movements, as well as in terms of establishments which are not officially registered and therefore evade any form of control (in primis, the renting of unlicensed holiday houses). According to recent studies, even the data provided by hotel establishments is partial, since not all establishments submit the required statistics, particularly in the provinces of Olbia-Tempio, Sassari and Nuoro (Renoldi, 2012a). It is estimated that the level of this black economy is

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approximately 76% (CRENoS, 2014), and for every tourist officially registered, three are not (Usai & Vannini, 2007). Interpreting that with figures, it means that the actual number of tourist days stayed is no less than 40 million. According to the figures provided by Sired (the system for data collection and analysis of the office for tourism, crafts and commerce), Sardinia is experiencing a recovery in terms of tourist flows. It is estimated that in the first eight months of 2014, compared to the same period in 2013, the island has seen an increase in the rate of arrivals equivalent to 3.2% (RAS-SIRED, 2014). These figures are encouraging, but should not be overrated, considering that they are based on a sample of only 500 establishments. However, the recent figures regarding passenger flows through the island’s three main airports are encouraging. In September 2014, arrivals and departures amounted to approximately 6 million passengers, 188,000 more than over the same period in 2013 (+3.2%). The total international passengers through the three airports was approximately 2 million, an increase of 4.8% over 2013. Domestic passenger traffic accounted for 4 million passengers (+2.8% over the 2013 level) (La Nuova Sardegna, 2014).

Conclusions In recent years, tourism to Sardinia has experienced a period of stagnation which, however, according to recent estimates regarding the tourism season, seems to be moving towards a recovery stage. Statistics aside, and putting aside the negative economic situation that the island is still going through, there is no doubt that the Sardinian tourism system is still burdened with critical issues that threaten the competitiveness of the destination. Among these issues are the strong and persisting spatial (the coast) and temporal (summer) concentrations as well as the type of tourism (seaside) and the holiday houses issue that, moreover, have a remarkable environmental impact too. Within an international context, where the competitiveness of a destination strongly depends on the quality of its natural and cultural environments (Mihalic, 2000), even taking account of the endogenous and sustainable growth of its economy (Brau et al., 2007; Cerina, 2012), Sardinia needs to raise its standards in terms of the quality of the products being offered. Furthermore, this is the political strategy being encouraged by the European Union with regard to tourism (European Commission, 2010).

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A restructuring of the tourism product offer is of the utmost urgency, considering that it is still strongly dependent on the coastal areas, notwithstanding various initiatives to locate tourism structures inland, and a strong tourism promotional campaign aimed at diversifying the seaside tourism product. Other forms of alternative tourism experiences, which can also complement seaside tourism, like the agrotourism and cultural tourism mentioned above, are still secondary to the seaside tourism, but nonetheless have a strong potential to play a major role in the future of Sardinian tourism. The weakness of the protected areas system poses an additional hindrance in the promotion of an alternative image of the island, given that the existing established and functioning parks are all located in coastal areas (national parks of the Arcipelago della Maddalena and the Isola dell’Asinara, regional parks of Porto Conte - Capo Caccia and Molentargius - Saline, Marine Protected Areas of Capo Carbonara, Tavolara - Punta Coda Cavallo, Isola dell’Asinara, Capo Caccia - Isola Piana and Penisola del Sinis - Isola di Mal di Ventre). The protected zones, whose establishment had been planned in the hinterland areas, are kept on hold as yet, and this has hindered progress towards the diversification of the Sardinian image. The promotional and information channels need to be encouraged as well, particularly through the use of the Internet. In this regard, and taking into account the changes in tourists’ purchasing behaviour, particularly the increase of individual travelling and self-packaged holidays without any intermediaries, most of the accommodation establishments lack the proper skills and services to meet these emerging tourist requirements. In fact, some of the small tourist accommodation establishments (not more than 24 beds), accounting for 50% of the region’s tourism offer, are not adequately prepared to promote their establishment online, hence their relative isolation from the potential tourist markets (Renoldi, 2014). In parallel with the renewal of contracts with airline operators (for example, Meridiana and Ryan Air are threatening to significantly cut routes to and from the island as a result of a revision of their commercial strategies), it is also necessary to further explore the origin of the tourist markets. This would induce a positive extension of the tourist season and the expansion of territories interested in tourism (the hinterland primarily), favouring improved competitiveness and reversing the negative tourism economic trends both at a local and at a regional level.

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. Elenco regionale degli operatori agrituristici della Sardegna 2014. Accessed October 25th, 2014. http://www.regione.sardegna.it/j/v/25?s=247706&v=2&c=1305&t=1. Regione Autonoma della Sardegna and Sistema informativo di raccolta ed elaborazione dati sul movimento turistico (RAS-SIRED). Movimento turistico della Sardegna October 2014. Accessed November 5th, 2014. http://www.regione.sardegna.it/documenti/1_50_20141016191548.pdf. Renoldi, Stefano. “Sardinia hotel industry between intermediation and online marketing.” Turistica 1, pp. 75-82, 2012°. ___ . “Fonti amministrative e statistiche ufficiali in ambito turistico. La Regione Sardegna tra seconde case e sommerso ufficiale.” Quaderni di lavoro CRENoS 2, 2012b. ___ . “La Destinazione Sardegna tra Maturità di Prodotto e Scenario Competitivo Internazionale.” Alma Tourism, Journal of Tourism, Culture and Territorial Development 1, pp. 82-92, 2014. Renoldi, Stefano and Giovanni Sistu. Il sistema di offerta museale della Sardegna. Analisi di contesto e programmazione regionalendicazioni di policy. CRENoS – Note Economiche della Sardegna. 03.2015. Roggio, Sandro. “Costa Smeralda: un luogo, un evento, un paradigma.” In Modelli di turismo in Sardegna. Tra sviluppo locale e processi di globalizzazione, edited by Antonietta Mazzette. Milan: FrancoAngeli, pp. 224-245, 2002. Solinas, Gian Adolfo. Un’isola di vacanze. Per una storia critica del turismo in Sardegna. Sassari: Edes Libri,1997. United Nations World Tourism Organization (UNWTO). Tourism highlight 2014 Edition. Accessed January 11th, 2015. http://mkt.unwto.org/publication/unwto-tourism-highlights-2014edition. Usai Stefano and Marco Vannini. “Sardegna e turismo: il momento delle scelte.” In L’estate al mare, edited by Lionello Franco Punzo and Stefano Usai. Milan: McGraw-Hill, pp. 89-94, 2007.

138,21 435,6

TOTAL

297,4

Non-Italians

Italians

88,498

37,05

75,262

31,921

43,341

35,293

15,366

19,927

70,613

43,479

27,134

Arrivals Other accomm.

510,9

170,1

340,7

123,8

52,42

71,38

357,1

162,7

194,3

Total

1,842,254

677,41

1,164,844

539,434

201,65

337,784

1,050,535

464,529

586,006

Hotels

457,109

151,164

305,945

218,082

70,714

147,368

393,776

217,745

176,031

Days stayed Other accomm.

2,299,363

828,574

1,470,789

757,516

272,364

485,152

1,444,311

682,274

762,037

Total

239

Table 16.5. Tourist arrivals and days stayed by origin, type of accommodation and province in 2012. Source: RAS, 2014 - Note: Data for the last four provinces are similar to 2011 due to the insufficient information submitted

Cagliari

TOTAL

Non-Italians

51,448

286,45

TOTAL

Italians

119,27

Non-Italians

Nuoro

167,18

Italians

Sassari

Hotels

Origin

Province

Appendix A

Tourism in Sardinia: A Potential Yet to be Achieved

36,894 28,333 65,227

Italians

Non-Italians

TOTAL

80,249

36,036

44,213

169,1

69,751

99,349

41,528

18,603

22,925

Arrivals Other accomm.

145,5

64,37

81,11

765,1

352,5

412,6

127,5

44,84

82,68

Total

343,187

162,39

180,797

3,392,361

1,562,392

1,829,969

239,368

75,442

163,926

Hotels

561,523

235,451

326,072

1,270,083

402,841

867,242

181,08

80,818

100,262

Days stayed Other accomm.

904,71

397,841

506,869

4,662,444

1,965,233

2,697,211

420,448

156,26

264,188

Total

Table 16.6. Tourist arrivals and days stayed by origin, type of accommodation and province in 2012. Source: RAS, 2014 - Note: Data for the last four provinces are similar to 2011 due to insufficient information submitted

Ogliastra

569

282,74

Non-Italians

TOTAL

313,26

85,996

TOTAL

Italians

26,237

Non-Italians

Olbia-Tempio

59,759

Italians

Oristano

Hotels

Origin

Chapter Sixteen

Province

240

48,79

13,533

Non-Italians

TOTAL

35,254

Italians

12,056

3,707

8,349

7,272

2,81

3,462

Arrivals Other accomm.

60,8

17,24

43,6

28,46

7,878

20,58

Total

193,219

58,641

134,578

83,542

10,787

72,755

Hotels

58,301

17,857

40,444

19,323

10,818

8,505

Days stayed Other accomm.

251,52

76,498

175,022

102,865

21,605

81,26

Total

241

Table 16.7. Tourist arrivals and days stayed by origin, type of accommodation and province in 2012. Source: RAS, 2014 - Note: Data for the last four provinces are similar to 2011 due to the insufficient information submitted

Carbonia-Iglesias

21,186

4,068

Non-Italians

TOTAL

17,118

Italians

Medio Campidano

Hotels

Origin

Province

Tourism in Sardinia: A Potential Yet to be Achieved

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN THE ENVIRONMENTAL POLICIES IN SARDINIA: SOME DESIRABLE SCENARIOS OF A COMPLEX DEVELOPMENT STRATEGY GIOVANNI SISTU AND VANIA STATZU

Introduction During the past few decades, Sardinia experienced significant transformation processes which led to a considerable improvement in living conditions. At the same time, different processes have resulted in a substantial growth of environmental pressures on the island. Among them, one of the most important threats is the progressive coastal settlement of the regional population, which has gone along with the growth of the industrial and tourism sectors. This phenomenon had an important consequence, the depopulation of the inland areas in the island. These pressures have significant negative impacts on the rich natural heritage of Sardinia. Indeed, in recent decades, very inefficient policies, such as a lack of planning and many contradictory measures, have been observed in many municipalities, even though it has been widely recognized that the precious environment of the island is one of the crucial elements for the future development policies to be built in Sardinia. The need to reduce pressures on natural resources is being currently recognized, in terms of protection of the coastline and of the countryside, of rehabilitation of the lands affected by heavy industry or of the areas where military sites are situated, and, finally, of promotion of a better awareness and activism countering the effects of soil erosion and climate change. Thus, to enhance efficiency, the local policy has to integrate logics and strategies different from the past, which means managing both environmental and the socio-economic resources in a sustainable way.

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The analysis of such a complex system can be done through an overview of some environmental issues that have great significance for the overall ecosystem balance.

Quality and fragility of the landscape Regional policies paid remarkable attention to landscape protection. The identity of Sardinia is based on the landscape, considered as a common good. Since ancient times, mankind has settled where natural resources were abundant and available: water, a soil of good quality that could be used for agricultural and breeding activities, the presence of mining resources, etc. These factors have led to the development of different human activities and different choices in the location of human settlements, which are spread over the territory according to a strategy based on the responsible use of natural resources. This strategy, like in the rest of Italy, has shown major weaknesses, particularly since the 1960s. In that period, people began to build everywhere, particularly in the areas less suitable for an agropastoral use, which, for this reason, were less expensive. In Sardinia, this strategy has gone hand in hand with the development of tourism through the building of holiday houses that, together with the increase of the population, have strongly influenced the development and the appearance of most coastal areas. For this reason, the application of the first regional urban framework law (Regional Law 45/1989) has met obstacles and different degrees of application. All these kinds of situations have gradually undermined the overall effectiveness (Roggio, 2007) of this law. Some changes took place only some years ago. The Regional Landscape Plan (the so-called “PPR”), approved in September 2006 at the end of a long process governed by RL 8/2004 (the so-called ‘Save the coasts’ law), introduced a major innovation in the field, in accordance with the guidelines of the European Landscape Convention. The PPR tried to distil into practical targets a series of principles such as the legal recognition of the landscape, the definition and the implementation of specific policies for its protection, the classification of the landscapes and their integration into sector policies. The entire coastal territory of Sardinia was divided into 27 areas, called “landscape areas”, which represent the space for a “voluntary geography of the area” where an active dynamic of the landscape is expected. Planning tools intervened to curb the processes of land use, characterized by different dynamics and outcomes in different urban areas of the island: in large and expanding urban centres and municipalities (Cagliari, Sassari, Oristano, Olbia and Alghero), the consumption of the

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soil was the outcome of urban sprawl and the process of construction of the infrastructure required for the production and service sectors; in the rest of the island, the consumption of the soil was concentrated along the coasts and the main roads. This process has already been discussed in several studies and reports (Bottazzi et al., 2006; Gentileschi, 1995) but it is no less significant nowadays. Today, it is recognized that the strong pressure on the coastal areas (especially in Gallura) are associated with the ongoing urban expansion of the sub-coastal municipalities, due to some strategic choices of the urban planning legislation introduced in 2012. This process is strongly affecting the social and economic condition of Sardinia: indeed, after a short period, in 2012, the next regional government promoted the procedure for the approval of the revision and updating of the PPR. This new plan made substantial changes to the previous one, aiming not only at improving the PPR but also at lightening the existing protection rules. The new legislation dropped some of the rules that protected the landscape from the building process (for example, the “matrix centres”, the traditional settlements bounded by the PPR) and strongly modified the norms for the coastal and agricultural areas, introducing specific rules to encourage the creation of new edification processes. In 2014, a new change in government led to the rejection of the latest interventions and to a new phase of procedure for the revision and updating of the PPR. The first draft of the latest PPR focused on the coastal areas and the matrix centres (the oldest areas and cores of the urban centres, within which the “town centres” are defined, i.e. the areas destined to receive special care and protection), while the rules on the internal and rural areas are yet to be determined. Moreover, the approval of a new regional planning law focused on the modernization of building constructions (in particular, green building practices) is expected, in order to respect sector planning and laws dealing with the geological risk; in addition, new parameters on authorization procedures, favouring a preconstruction self-certification system and a post-construction control system, are necessary. In order to make these systems effective, a significant raise in the level of sanctions for any violation is required.

Quality and fragility of the land The safeguard of the soil is closely related to the topic of landscape planning. In order to protect it, it is necessary to reach an agreement on the goals of a functional improvement of the hydrogeological settings, in order

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to strengthen controls on the process of soil instability, degradation and desertification. Different regional land management policies – and those of the related sectors – have not paid enough attention to these. Concrete actions have yet to lead to the implementation of fundamental documents, such as the map of hydrogeological risk, the Hydrogeological Plan (PAI), and the Transitional Plan for Fluvial Belts (PSFF), and to the introduction in the regional legislation of the National Government Bill principles (December 2013) about containing the loss of land and reusing the built soil. The Hydrogeological Plan (PAI) identifies risk areas for floods and landslides, according to the provisions of Law 267/98. In the spirit of a compatible use of the territory, all the administrations will have to use the given information as a starting point for a more detailed investigation to identify the most appropriate actions. In the Plan, the Regional Government has divided the island-wide Regional Drainage Basin into seven sub-basins. Each sub-basin is characterized by a general geomorphological, geographical, and hydrological homogeneity, but also by strong differences in territorial extension. In Sardinia, until 1998, 218 landslides were recorded in 180 sites and 816 floods in 243 sites; several repeated dramatic episodes have recently confirmed that the vulnerability of the region to floods and landslides has sharply increased, especially due to the intense development of roads and settlements, with increasing damages. The hydrographic network of Sardinia presents its most critical parts in: the valleys of the major river basins such as the system of the Flumendosa-Picocca and Corr’e Pruna, which caused frequent flooding in the coastal part of the region, called Sarrabus; the system of the MannuCixerri, which especially affects the southern area of the plain of Campidano; the Tirso-Mogoro in the plain of the Gulf of Oristano; the Temo in the town of Bosa; and finally the Cedrino-Posada in the terminal part of the Cedrino valley. Safeguarding measures are prescribed and provided by the law for the individual classes of areas at risk. In such areas, the existing set of rules will be strengthened by the implementation of possible mitigation actions in order to reduce the danger or the possible relocation of the threatened existing elements. As highlighted at a European level, experience has shown that the most effective approach to the definition of risk management programmes and the reduction of the impact of events on the territory aims to better develop prevention, protection, preparedness, emergency response, reconstruction and the acquisition of new information.

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From this point of view, it will be cared for by the Functional Centre of the Regional Civil Protection, recently established and expected to create effective synergies with the subjects acting on the deferred time (regional administration, local authorities, Reclamation Bodies). More generally, unprepared citizens participating in the crucial activities of civil protection have often contributed to the failure of many activities, especially with recurrent adverse events related to climate change and to age-old problems such as fires. The forests and forestry heritage of Sardinia is unique in the whole Mediterranean Sea. The number of cork oaks and the widespread presence of holm oaks and chestnut trees are peculiar features of the Sardinian landscape, albeit characterized by ongoing dramatic changes due to annual fires. The protection and development of forests has been mainly interpreted as reducing fire risks so far. According to the data from the national forest inventory IFNC (2007), Sardinia is the Italian region with the largest forested area, with a total of 1,213,250 million hectares, divided into 583,472 hectares of “forest” and 629,778 hectares of “other wooded lands”. However, it is complicated to estimate the rate of change in the total forest area due to the differences occurring over time in the definitions used in processing forest inventories and mapping. Mainly due to the strong reforestation carried out since the 1950s and constant public forest management, the forest area in Sardinia has grown significantly compared to the levels of the early 19th century. For the three decades before 1979, a yearly average tree planting of 1,500 hectares was registered. Later, between the second half of the 1970s and until the late 1980s, productive forestation interventions promoted by the programmes of the Cassa per il Mezzogiorno (Development Fund for Southern Italy) had significant impacts, with a new reforested area of more than 30,000 hectares. The reforestation policies of agricultural land through the interventions due to the regulations on the set-aside land and EU Regulation 2080/92 had an on-going significant impact in the 1990s, with an area of new forests estimated between 18,000 and 20,000 hectares. In more recent years, also because of the strong crisis in the sheep- and goat-breeding sector, there has been a push towards the natural recolonization of abandoned pastures, helping to raise the figures of the regional forest area. Forests could therefore represent a big economic potential in terms of productive forestry and nature tourism. Giving economic value to natural resources is the tool through which resident populations can be involved in a sustainable management of forests and in the prevention of fires.

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The problem of fires should become a priority for the regional environmental policy, with a strategy of both prevention and repression. As already mentioned, new policies need to move towards integrated governance based on the development of the economic value of wood, in order to adequately support the eco-management of the forest by local populations. Indeed, local communities, who are directly interested in the protection of their territories, have been progressively deprived of a key role in the management of the forest, while in the past a different and opposite strategy was set. In fact, local communities could have a central role in the prevention and control of the territory; they could have the main responsibility in early interventions, often the only way to stop the development of fires. Over the years, Sardinia has managed to reduce the extent of yearly burned areas. From 1995 onwards, policy enforcement and prevention actions started producing significant effects (Porcu and Puggioni, 2005). In Sardinia, climate is typically Mediterranean, characterized by a cool and rainy season (winter) and a hot and dry one (summer), with average maximum temperatures, in the warmest month, often higher than 30° Celsius. The dry season can last up to 135 days, particularly in the centralsouthern part of the island. Beyond the specific characteristics of elevation and climate, unpredictable meteorological conditions determine the variable seasonal evolution of the processes of ignition and spread of fires. A classification of fires by causes sees arson as the predominant one (Puxeddu and Sistu, 2005). The law prohibits constructing any buildings on burnt areas over a ten-year period after the fire, in order to prevent speculation, but the perimeter delimitation of these areas is often done superficially. While systematic statistical surveys have shown the absence of a direct correlation between demographic and settlement dynamics and the localization of fires (Porcu and Puggioni, 2005), the available data show a high frequency of fires in the main agricultural regions of the northern and southern lowland areas as well as in the central highlands, which are also the areas where the main railways and roads are. Another critical issue in Sardinia is the historically difficult enhancement of a regional system of protected areas. In particular, the risk of losing the island’s biodiversity heritage is strictly related to the lack of efficiency in the parks managing bodies. Such inefficiency is often due to

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a shortage of staff, skills and resources, which leads to an inadequate management of the protected areas.1 Conflicts between the protection of biodiversity and the development of the economy are widespread. In most cases local authorities have not been able to merge the two goals: the modest benefits generated by the conservation of nature have resulted in a reduced consensus in local communities, which often show open hostility against protected areas. This situation has produced the absence of a significant role of the protected areas in territorial policies and local planning, resulting in parks conceived as isolated sanctuaries, although often not even properly protected. The first regional framework law regarding protected areas dates to the end of the 1980s. Regional Law 31/1989 aims to create a regional network of parks. These areas are classified on the basis of designated uses based on their specific characteristics: Parks, Natural Reserves, Areas of Outstanding Natural Interest and Natural Monuments. Unfortunately, for many years the law has remained largely unimplemented. In the meantime, the Regional Government has adopted the Plans of Management of Sites of Community Interest (SCI) and Special Protection Areas (SPA), which prevail over municipal territorial planning. However, these plans have remained unrealized so far, due to the lack of definition of the managing bodies’ characteristics and roles. Only recently the lack of indications for management has been overcome with the approval of PAF (Prioritized Action Framework), a document that contains a framework of priority actions for the protection of biodiversity within the Nature 2000 Network. The Regional Parliament that took office at the beginning of 2014 resumed the creation of the planned but largely unachieved network of protected areas, activating the establishment of two new regional parks: the Forest Park of Gutturu Mannu (an area in south-western Sardinia, close to Cagliari, mainly situated between the municipalities of Capoterra and Assemini) and the Park of Tepilora (an area mainly located in the municipality of Bitti, in central-northern Sardinia). The Regional Body of Forests of Sardinia manages these two predominantly wooded areas. In the area of Gutturu Mannu an SPA and an SCI area are also located.

1

The total Nature 2000 area is nearly 23.8% of the regional territory, while the national value is nearly 21.8%; in addition, nearly 5% of the territory is included in another kind of protected areas (different from Nature 2000), but, due to the overlapping areas, the net value is unknown. Protected marine areas are equal to 502,524 hectares, which include the Marine Mammals Sanctuary.

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The network of SIC and SPA areas, made of 106 sites, suffers from several problems: first, the absence of management entities to ensure the implementation of conservation measures included in the existing or updated management plans and interventions to enhance the environmental quality of the territory; secondly, the absence in local entities of experts with appropriate skills required for the correct management and protection of biodiversity; third, the lack of integration with the traditional activities of the territories, especially agriculture and fisheries, as indicated by the European Strategy for Biodiversity 2020. Another issue is the lack of funds, often linked to the inadequacy of the financial resources allocated for environmental policies at a regional level, and the chronic inability to obtain direct EU funds or manage them properly, once obtained. It is therefore necessary to promote good practices for the identification of financial resources through mechanisms of reward and priority in the allocation and use of available resources; to encourage the use of project financing; and to promote innovative strategies for the development of productive activities and the marketing of products made in the protected areas. An example of this is the Environmental Quality Brand of the Network of the Parks of Sardinia and Corsica: the management bodies of park areas may award it to services and products that enhance the territory and satisfy the quality requirements set by the regulations. Particularly important is the necessity to promote specific policies for an active and sustainable economy in the areas included in the Regional Ecological Network. In order to achieve it, it is fundamental to set incentives for sustainable practices in the use of resources and land, focusing on the promotion of sustainable practices for agriculture/forestry and on ecotourism, which could maintain a high level of environmental quality in rural areas, creating economic benefits and contrasting depopulation. In this sense, the current Regional Government has given a strong signal by adopting the Prioritized Action Framework (PAF) as one of the first actions of government. Such valuable heritage is the subject of further differentiated actions. Although the value of biodiversity on the island is widely recognized (there are specific actions that aim to protect these assets and offer new opportunities for the development of the territories), the existence of historical and socio-economic peculiarities and the multiplicity of involved interests still lead to widespread conflicts and multiple physical and social wounds. Some key issues are to be mentioned in this sense,

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although they cannot be analysed in depth (Meloni, 1996): the public ownership of the lands, the resulting civic uses, and the economic importance of public forestry managed by the Body of Forests of Sardinia, partly coinciding with the planned regional network of protected areas.

The fragility of urbanized areas The third and most controversial issue is the rehabilitation of industrial areas, as well as of the areas subject to military uses, a theme that connects environmental quality to the health and safety of the population. A major problem is related to the responsibility for the rehabilitation of these areas: the national standard is still inadequate and provides an opportunity for polluters to take actions that often exempt them from the costs of cleaning. Generally, local communities cover these costs. The need to promote a programme of rehabilitation of industrial, military and mining areas, and the related monitoring activities, is widely recognized. The regional administration realizes its environmental action through the Regional Environmental Action Plan PAAR (which is being updated for the period 2014-2020). A Regional Environmental Information System (SIRA) supports the implementation of the plan. The available data, correlated with the historical trends of utilization of the regional territory, show that the highest concentration of contaminated sites is found in the provinces of Cagliari, Sassari and Carbonia-Iglesias. This distribution is obviously heavily influenced by the presence of the industrial areas of Macchiareddu, Sarroch, Portovesme and Porto Torres, as well as the extension and articulation of disused mining areas in the Sulcis-Iglesias-Guspinese region. In the same way, the sub-regional areas devoted to military purposes appear clearly defined, due to the presence of shooting areas in the provinces of Cagliari, Medio Campidano, Ogliastra and Olbia-Tempio. The Strategic Environmental Assessment of the Regional Operative Programme 2007-2013 verifies the implementation of rehabilitation for each site. The actions to be implemented in the contaminated Sites of National Interest of Sulcis-Iglesiente-Guspinese and in the Industrial Area of Porto Torres are particularly important; for this second area, negotiations with the companies asked to fix the damages are still going on. The mining areas represent an emblematic situation of lack of environmental management in the island: the immobility of IGEA - a public company

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previously devoted to mining management - has so far impeded spending about 150 million euro already available for rehabilitation projects in the Rio San Giorgio, Monteponi and Montevecchio areas (Iglesias Guspinese). Concerning the military areas, a policy action for the reduction of the number of sites is still ongoing, but it requires complex negotiation with governmental and supranational entities; a first step is the insertion of sites contaminated by military activities into the SIRA, particularly in the case of the three shooting ranges of Capo Teulada, Salto di Quirra (Interforce Polygon), Capo Frasca and La Maddalena. For all of these areas, the tense institutional confrontation is focused on the reduction of their size and the promotion of operational projects to restore the original conditions of the premises. A more widespread action concerns the rehabilitation of sites contaminated by the presence of asbestos, a problem quite diffuse but still faced through not very effective actions. The issue of industrial pollution is linked to that of air quality, which is a mistakenly underestimated problem in Sardinia. The redevelopment of industrial structures in contaminated sites and the conversion towards the green economy (already begun in the Porto Torres industrial site with the construction of a plant for the production of plastic polymers from biomasses), as well as a proper and innovative energy strategy, and the increase of the environmental management systems among companies of different sectors, is expected to lead to an improvement in the air quality of industrial areas. In relation to the pollution from transport, the network of monitoring stations in urban areas is to be strengthened, as it is still inadequate compared to the overall extent of the phenomenon. Finally, with regard to waste management, the regional policy is focused on financial instruments, with the adoption of mechanisms of penalties and incentives; in the second half of the 2000s, this strategy led to the development of high efficiency recycling systems that allowed Sardinia to achieve the objectives established by the law and to be mentioned in the Italian national context as one of the most virtuous. The location of recycling plants partly coincides with the existing industrial areas (Cagliari, Macomer, Villacidro, Tortolì), although the relative weight of external locations increases, particularly in the case of municipalities with extended surface and consistent waste quantities (Sassari), or the availability of disused mining areas distant from population centres (Ozieri, Bono), or with more general environmental problems for which the production plant is part of a larger strategy (Arborea).

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Relative pressures resulting from these strategies follow a sort of hierarchy: in most cases the places of larger production bear the costs of environmental risk due to plants with greater impacts (the metropolitan area of Cagliari, Sassari, Carbonia-Iglesias, Olbia-Tempio); in other cases, the risk exposure is more directly related to policy choices based on the power relations among stakeholders, with the final localization revealing the losing ones (Bau Craboni in Oristano, Serdiana, Macomer). In the medium term, only the further reduction of waste production and the growth of recycling will create a more effective territorial balance across different technologies for an easier social acceptance. Conversely, the problem of industrial waste appears unsolvable in the short and medium term; indeed, industrial waste incidence and localization exhibit unequal geographical distribution of produced damages and induced risks. The current regional mechanism of rewards and penalties may be enhanced by including the principle of minimization of waste production in order to create a virtuous system that strengthens the capacity to develop some “best practices” (promoting bulk products, reducing packaging, encouraging green purchasing, last minute markets, etc.) at the municipal and district levels, overcoming their current niche condition. The strategy of “Zero Waste”, which in many Italian contexts regularly allowed for intercepting 80% of the waste produced, could be adopted in order to encourage a reduction in the total production of waste. Such policies require a rethinking of some of the agencies and bodies devoted to environmental protection, such as the Regional Agency for Environmental Protection (ARPAS) and the INFEA network composed by the Centres for Education on Sustainability (CEAS). The role of these bodies and organizations has been progressively modified, or, as in the case of ARPAS and INFEA network, it has never been sufficiently developed and their tasks sufficiently specified to be implemented.

Summing up and dreams The effort to overcome the lack of quantitative and qualitative environmental information meets both the short-term aims and the medium- to long-term ones. On the one hand, the need to guide economic and social decision-making processes towards the goal of a sustainable development requires a broad and large knowledge in order to build a comprehensive and integrated system of economic and environmental statistics; on the other hand, concern for the current state of the environment, in relation to current and future anthropogenic pressures, requires the availability of information in a short time.

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The image of Sardinia that emerges from our analysis is a reality where two historical polarities and a recent one are strongly and negatively outlined. Alongside the two consolidated realities in relation to the key environmental pressures and therefore the resulting risks (the two metropolitan areas of Cagliari and Sassari), a new polarity in the region of Gallura clearly emerges: in this case, the growing town of Olbia assumes a central negative role. In the latter case, the negative results derive from the need to meet the specific requirements of a micro-metropolitan area in rapid expansion, an expression of a growth only partially driven by the effective principles of a sustainable urban planning, rather than the mere needs of space occupation. Even the lower polarity of the Sulcis-Iglesiente area is the direct result of an industrial expansion that was not able to combine job offers with environmental protection and, paradoxically, this creates another factor of additional pressure, even though virtuous initiatives for waste management and recycling are present. In the rest of the island, largely characterized by declining population, the pressures tend to fade or are attributable to only one of the factors examined. The emergence of a new strategic vision for the long-term leads to a different estimation method of the results of the on-going initiatives, in which institutional logic often contrasts with local perception; the synchronic dimension (the full involvement of the territory and the overcoming of marginality) seems to prevail over the diachronic one (an intergenerational approach and the preservation of the effectiveness of interventions over time). When the quality of the environment, conceived as quality of life, becomes an important factor in competitiveness and growth, it is important to analyse pros and cons of the set of environmental policies that changing regional governments express. It is important especially for a regional reality that is experiencing an important period of transition between old and new visions. Population decline, the arrival of new residents and a widely floating tourist population are open challenges for the Sardinian government. Obviously, today’s results and prospects for the future are also the consequence of the success or failure of yesterday’s strategies. This is a further element of reflection on the importance of a shared plan of institutional actions.

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References Arnold, Frank S. Economic Analysis of Environmental Policy and Regulation. New York: John Wiley & Sons Inc., 1994. Aru, Angelo, Paolo Baldaccini, Andrea Vacca, Giuseppe Delogu, Maria Antonietta Dessena, Salvatore Madrau, Rita Teresa Melis, and Sergio Vacca. Nota illustrativa alla Carta dei suoli della Sardegna. Cagliari: Dipartimento Scienze della Terra Università di Cagliari, Assessorato Regionale alla Programmazione Bilancio ed Assetto del Territorio, 1991. Bagliani, Marco, and Egidio Dansero. Politiche per l’ambiente. Dalla natura al territorio. Milan: UTET Università, 2011. Bottazzi, Gianfranco, Giuseppe Puggioni, and Mauro Zedda. Dinamiche e tendenze dello spopolamento in Sardegna. Centro Regionale di Programmazione (CRP), 2006. CNR - Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche. Relazione sullo stato delle conoscenze in tema di ambiente e salute nelle aree ad alto rischio in Italia, 2007. Dematteis, Giuseppe, and Francesca Governa (Eds.). Territorialità, sviluppo locale, sostenibilità: il modello Slot. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2005. Gentileschi, Maria Luisa. “The population of Sardinia. Recent changes in distribution”. In Economic and population trends in the Mediterranean islands, edited by M. Rosaria Carli. Rome: Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, 1995. IFNC. Inventario Forestale Nazionale, (http://www.sian.it/inventarioforestale/jsp/home.jsp), 2007. Magnaghi, Alberto. Il progetto locale. Turin: Bollati Boringhieri, 2000. Marini, Tara, Roberto Serra, and Giovanni Sistu. “Modello di gestione dei rifiuti in Sardegna: una sintesi”. Quaderni CRENoS, 04/08, (http://crenos.unica.it/crenos/it), 2008. Porcu, Mariano, and Giuseppe Puggioni. “Popolazione e territorio in Sardegna. Dinamiche insediative e incendi agro-forestali”. In Dinamiche territoriali e sviluppo fra Sardegna e Corsica, edited by Michel Rombaldi and Giovanni Sistu. Cagliari: CUEC, pp. 147-215, 2005. Puxeddu, Michele, and Giovanni Sistu. La pianificazione antincendi boschivi a livello locale: analisi critica di un caso di studio. In Dinamiche territoriali e sviluppo fra Sardegna e Corsica, edited by Michel Rombaldi and Giovanni Sistu. Cagliari: CUEC, pp. 217-243, 2005.

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RAS – Regione Autonoma della Sardegna. Appendice della Relazione annuale sulla qualità dell’aria per l’anno 2009, pp. 4-10, 2009. Roggio Sandro. C’è di mezzo il mare. Le coste sarde, merci o beni comuni?. Cagliari: CUEC, 2007.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN WATER MANAGEMENT: REDUCING VULNERABILITY AND IMPROVING MANAGEMENT DURING PERIODS OF DROUGHT ROBERTO SILVANO

Water Resources management in Italy and Sardinia The management of water resources in Italy and in the other countries of the European Union has undergone significant changes during recent years. The EU Water Framework Directive (WFD) (2000/60/EC) is the major piece of European Union (EU) legislation with the environment at its core. The Directive provides for a legislative framework aiming to protect community waters in qualitative as well as in quantitative terms. What marks the Water Framework Directive out is that it defines the quality of surface waters in terms of ecology rather than chemistry or water pollution The main aim of the member states is to restore a good ecological status (chemical, biological, hydro-morphological) of ground and surface water, in the framework of the river basin, producing the River Basin Management Plan, and in each river basin district. According to the devolution principle of the WFD, the environmental protection and monitoring which used to be controlled by the Italian state fell into the hands of the Regions by means of the Basin Authorities. These Bodies were created with the purpose of implementing the Directive rules within their territory. In 2006, the Italian Government started the process mandated by the WFD by promulgating the Legislative Decree 152/2006 entitled “Environment Policies” (“Norme in Materia Ambientale”), which reformed the entire body of environmental regulations in Italy. The Decree 152/2006 lists eight river basin districts in Italy. The districts are: Serchio,

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Padano, Eastern Alps, Northern Apennines, Central Apennines, Southern Apennines, Sardinia, and Sicily. After the approval of the Legislative Decree 152/2006, the Sardinian Regional Authority reviewed competences and duties in the area of Water Resources, by means of Regional Law 19/2006 “Rules on Water Resources and Hydrographic Basins”, “Disposizioni in materia di risorse idriche e bacini idrografici”. The Regional law introduces the concept of a “multi-purpose water system”. This system has been devised to deliver raw water to different user categories, contributing to maintaining a balance between the amount of supplies and their costs:

• In Sardinia, 80% of supplied water come from artificial reservoirs (52 dams) • Main uses of dams in Sardinia are for irrigation and drinking water purposes (Figure 18.1).

Figure 18.1. Water consumption by sector in Sardinia. Source: ENAS

The peculiar physiographic features of the region, and in particular its insularity, which entails segregation from the other continental regions, resulted in a closed water system destined to support itself only with the local resources, besides being significantly exposed to negative effects resulting from incorrect strategic choices. During the last thirty years, the regional water system suffered the increasing pressure of new water-dependent sectors. The inflow of both private and public capital generated the gradual growth of the tourist system and, though with more difficulty, of a local industrial system. The lack of a significant capacity of control and regional planning was the

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cause of remarkable hiatuses within the local context, with heavy consequences on the natural environment as well. Nowadays, once a new dramatic stage has weathered a reduction of contributions, during which planned interventions were only partly accomplished, a rapid acceleration has witnessed the process of actuation of integrated water management, further fostered by the deadlines of the Community Support Framework for Objective 1 Regions 2000-2006. All this led to quickly defining the instruments expected by the national regulations for these plans (Water Protection Plan, Hydrogeological Structure Plan, Water Resources Use Urgent Plan, Waterworks Plan, Area Plan), besides the approval of Regional Law 30 November 2006, establishing the Regional Water Supply Agency, which soon became a district authority. Such rapid modification of water power and institutional framework quickly led to an organization structured on single entities of the water sector, which represented a significant change within the water power territorialisation system, hitherto based on local fragmentation and on cross-party clashes of competences (Figure 18.2).

Figure 18.2. Institutional Flowchart of Sardinian Water System. Source: ENAS

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The multi-purpose regional water system of Sardinia ENAS, Ente Acque della Sardegna (the Sardinian Water Authority) is Italy’s largest public water utility based on multi-purpose dams. It was established to construct and manage a freshwater supply system for the sustainable and rational use of water resources at the regional level. The Authority was established in 1946 by a State law, with the name of Ente Autonomo del Flumendosa. In 1984 its control was devolved to the government of the Autonomous Region of Sardinia. In line with its statutory purpose, the Authority has designed and constructed large water infrastructures for the long-term development of the Region’s territory, guaranteeing water supply to urban, agricultural and industrial areas, in a typical Mediterranean semi-arid region. At the moment, the Authority manages 32 dams, 25 diversion dams, 47 pumping plants, 7 hydroelectric plants, 850 km of aqueducts and 209 km of channels. The system shown in Figure 18.3 comprises:

- an interconnected system of artificial reservoirs and diversion -

channels (resource nodes) a set of demand centres: civil, agricultural, industrial, hydroelectric and environmental a set of connecting lines between resource nodes and between resource nodes and demand centres.

The demand centres serve a population of 1.6 million, about 160,000 ha of irrigated farmland and 11 industrial zones. This system, based on surface water resources, represents about 75% of the water resources currently available in Sardinia. Local groundwater resources cover the remaining 25%. In the period 2010-2014 the following volumes were distributed (Table 18.1).

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Sector

Yearly distribution (millions of m3) 2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

Civil uses

220

225

230

228

229

Agricultural uses

326

400

425

391

442

Industrial uses TOTAL

26

24

23

24

23

572

649

678

643

694

Water demand context 1.5 million of inhabitant 160,000 equipped hectares 8 industrial areas

Table 18.1. The volumes distributed in the period 2010-2014. Source: ENAS

Hydrological features and droughts The amount of water resources available for civil, industrial and agricultural use contracted critically in Sardinia about ten years ago. The crisis was mainly due to hydrological alterations that had occurred on the island over the last three decades, similarly to the rest of the Mediterranean basin. In this context, the management of complex interconnected hydraulic systems, mainly based on large reservoirs regulating the water resources over multi-annual periods, plays a strategic role. Analysis of the historical hydrological series in Sardinia over the past 90 years show that both the rainfall and runoff series are non-stationary on the average, as statistical tests clearly prove. Moreover, as far as the rainfall-runoff transformation is concerned, runoff proves to be highly sensitive to any reduction in rainfall: for instance a 20% reduction in rainfall may produce a decrease of more than 50% in runoff and consequently in water resources available for human use. This behaviour is confirmed by comparison with the historical series in other catchments in the central-western Mediterranean basin. More specifically, precipitation series in Sardinia display high variability over time (the “mean” year practically never occurs), significant persistence, and climate fluctuations that highlight the nonstationarity nature of the mean (Figure 18.4).

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Spatial variability is also remarkable, with significantly different local drought indices. As stated with regards to the assessment of available water resources under possible future climate scenarios, the natural characteristics of rainfall-runoff transformation processes seem to be highly critical. Changes in mean precipitation values are matched by twofold percentage changes in runoff. Table 18.2 shows the mean water balance in Sardinia over the period 1922-1975. Rainfall

775 mm

Runoff

245 mm

Runoff coefficient

0.32

Table 18.2. Mean water balance in Sardinia 1922-1975. Source: ENAS It is interesting to compare this balance with that of the subsequent decades (Table 18.3). Rainfall

620 mm

Runoff

145 mm

Runoff coefficient

0.23

Table 18.3. Mean water balance in Sardinia 1975-2005. Source: ENAS This is consistent with the curve of the classic rainfall-runoff transformation model such as that shown in Figure 18.3, where the points of the above-mentioned water balances are plotted. The runoff is a function of rainfall and ETP, potential annual evapotranspiration.

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Figure 18.5. Rainfall-Runoff transformation function in Sardinia. Source: ENAS

The runoff series clearly shows the effects of the phenomena illustrated above and highlights the importance of artificial reservoirs for multiannual regulation of runoff (transfer of natural inflows over time). Figure 18.6 shows the historical series of annual water inflows into the reservoirs along the Medio Flumendosa river, which is one of the island’s main water storage systems. In order to “read” hydrological characteristics, the curve of the 7thorder moving average may be read (in red): over the time period under consideration, which is more than 80 years, the average of a seven-year period may be about 515 million cu m (highest value, in the seven years prior to 1964) or about 155 million cu m (lowest value, in the seven years prior to 2003). The value in the lowest 7-year period was about 57% lower than the 85-year mean, while that in the highest 7-year period was about 43% higher than the average. Such high variability has enormous repercussions on the volumes that can be supplied by water systems, and makes it necessary to manage resources using reliable and prudential operational rules, to avoid endangering the security of the freshwater supply and negatively affecting the production sectors. Hydrological inflows display higher stochasticity and their behaviour is difficult to predict. Such variability, which is linked to the change in climatic conditions, affects reservoirs and junction nodes.

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Climate fluctuations lead to non-stationary hydrological mean values, with obvious problems for water management planning, as the water balance of available resources to potential demand becomes nonstationary. Against this background, it is crucial to define criteria and operational rules guaranteeing the sustainable use of natural runoff. These criteria must also be able to promptly cope with possible future climate changes, minimizing supply deficits. To this end, a network for the on-going monitoring of watershed hydrological features is needed.

Objectives of the monitoring system, analysis method and indicator selection The first objective is to monitor drought through a system of indicators making it possible to process data at precise time intervals and for the various areas within the region. In particular, in order to implement proactive drought management it is necessary to define both current and short- and medium-term resourcedemand balance scenarios for the various watershed systems of the region, to assess risks and include droughts in the general planning. Traditional indicators are grouped into:

- meteorological (rainfall, temperatures, etc.) - hydrological and agronomic (runoff, groundwater levels, soil moisture, water held in reservoirs, etc.). In the semi-arid regions of the Mediterranean Sea, the most interesting indicators are the hydrological ones. Hydrological droughts are random natural phenomena, revealed by analysis of the historical hydrological data series. Hydrological droughts are transformed into operational droughts, i.e. lack of water supply available to users, via a transformation function represented by the physical and size characteristics of the water work system and by the operational rules selected to manage such waterworks. In short, drought is a phenomenon composed of both random natural aspects and an important human component. It is therefore essential to build a model that accounts for all such aspects and delivers effective decision-making support.

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In view of these characteristics, we identified the amount of water reserves held in the artificial reservoirs of the regional water system as the optimum indicator. In fact, this parameter is influenced both by the characteristics of the hydrological inflows in the months and years to date and by the operational rules chosen to operate reservoirs and the main water conveyance lines. It was necessary to choose a calculation method to measure the indicator at monthly intervals, so as to make decisions based on such measurements. This model, which is based on stochastic analysis principles, has two components:

- a model to generate synthetic series of the runoff of Sardinian

-

rivers which preserves: a) the basic statistics of the historical series in each relevant section of rivers of the regional territory; b) the time correlation structure; c) the spatial correlation structure; d) specific drought statistics (persistence, duration, intensity); a simulation model for operating the water supply system using mathematical models to accurately represent the functional characteristics of structural elements (reservoirs, pipes, open channels, pumping plant, hydroelectric plants, etc.) and the natural phenomena impacting the system, for instance evaporation from reservoirs, and, lastly, the operational rules adopted for an optimum management of the resource.

As for the hydrological aspects, the reference document is the “Studio dell’Idrologia Superficiale della Sardegna”, drawn up in 1980 and subsequently updated, which defined the basic hydrological framework based on monthly data for planning and operating the water resource system in Sardinia. The rainfall-runoff transformation process was successfully interpreted, using a Box-Jenkins type model, by a single linear monthly variant transfer function and noise model, where runoff depends only on samemonth rainfall and on a lag-one autoregressive term, and noise is standardized to attain a sufficient degree of stationarity. The model was transposed from gauged to ungauged basins by using a simple similarity criterion for all parameters except the mean annual runoff, which was estimated independently by appropriately transforming the mean annual point rainfall into the corresponding mean point runoff.

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After defining the configuration of the water system to be analysed, the relevant sections on the watercourses along which the reservoirs and the diversion dams are located were identified. In its current setup, the regional water system has 58 main nodes, including 24 diversion dams and 34 reservoirs, for a current total capacity of about 1.9 billion m3. For these sections, the historical monthly hydrological inflow series starting from 1926 were extracted from the regional hydrological model. The next step was to generate synthetic series. From the critical time, regarding the regional water system based on large storage reservoirs, and the sequences of dry years that put a heavy strain on water reserves, it was decided to create a synthetic runoff series on an annual basis by hydrologic year, October-September. To this end, a probabilistic model was developed, fitting the empirical distribution of the runoff series. We assumed a lognormal random process. The lognormal transformation of the historical annual runoff series at each selected section was then performed. To guarantee compliance with the regional-based spatial correlation structure of this hydrological parameter, a principal component analysis was performed using the data related to the 58 historical series at the diverted rivers sections. The principal components (PCs) of the sample of n k-dimensional (k=1,..,58) Ak observations (i.e. the annual historical series of runoff at the chosen sections, considered to be centred around their respective mean values) are a set of new variables obtained through the rigid rotation of the coordinate system of the observations, with an orientation corresponding to the directions of maximum sample variance. It is demonstrated that the variances of this new set correspond to eigenvalues Ȝk defined as a nontrivial solution of the system: (C - Ȝk I) ak = 0, where C is the sample covariance matrix of the observed variables, ak is the eigenvector corresponding to each Ȝk and I is the identity matrix. The new variables xk = a Ak (here ‘a’ is the square matrix of ak) thus represent the CPs associated with the problem, which, as they have the property of being mutually independent, constitute a representative base for the range of variables considered. The Ȝk eigenvalues enjoy the property that their sum equals overall sample variance. Employing the usual pseudo-random generation from a rectangular distribution followed by appropriate transformations, the synthetic series of the principal components were obtained.

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Using the classic anti-transformation procedure we obtained synthetic series of hydrological inflows at the 58 sections of interest, which respect the observed covariance matrix. With regard to the evidence provided by analysis of the nonstationarity of the historical series in terms of mean values and variance due to the climate changes observed over the past 30 years, the generation model is able to generate synthetic series corresponding to different hydrological scenarios, by re-scaling the historical series, changing their mean and variance. For instance, one of the scenarios identified is that corresponding to the statistical parameters of the past 30 years, compared with those of the first 50 years of the historical series starting from 1925. The last 30 years seem to have a probability distribution with parameters whose mean is 45% of the mean in the first period and whose deviation is 70% of the deviation in the first period. This indicates, inter alia, that the variation coefficient has increased, which implies greater severity of drought events. The duration of the synthetic series is normally set at 500 years, but may be set at different lengths. The shift to monthly runoff values is then made by means of a simplified procedure, which, however, respects the spatial correlation between the different series even at a monthly level. The second fundamental tool is the simulation model. A reservoirsystem simulation model reproduces the hydrologic performance of a reservoir system for given inflows and operating rules. The model is based on mass-balance accounting procedures to track the flow of water through the water distribution system. Various strategies can be adopted to apply simulation models. Series of runs are typically made to compare system performance under alternative reservoir configurations, storage allocations, operating rules, demand levels, and/or hydrologic inflow sequences. Observing the samplings of the computed time sequences of storage levels allows for assessing the systems performance of the hydroelectric energy generated and the water supply diversions; discharge-frequency analyses may also be performed. Using these two fundamental tools, indicators can be generated at monthly intervals for each reservoir or for two or more reservoirs forming a single water scheme. The processing sequence is as follows:

- the target volumes that can be supplied to the various use sectors (civil, agricultural, industrial, energy generation) are determined,

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using as a test bench a 50-year hydrological flow sequence. The series for the period 1926-1975 was considered to be representative, since it is the longest one with clearly stationary characteristics. However, in light of the change in basic statistical parameters over the past 30 years, the above historical series was re-scaled, using historical quantiles but imposing the following statistical parameters: mean equal to 45% of the 26-75 series; deviation equal to 70% of the 26-75 deviation, with lognormal distribution of annual totals; the volumes which can be supplied by each system and subsystem are identified, comparing performances with the simulation model to optimize management rules, and by establishing a minimum reserve in reservoirs equal to at least one year of drinking water demand; the 500-year synthetic series at the 58 sections of interest is generated using the method described above, which makes it possible to respect the parameters chosen: mean values, deviations and spatial correlation matrix; the regional multi-sector water system is then simulated, with the synthetic runoff series as input variables and the water supplied and state variables as outputs of the simulation: amongst these outputs, of special interest is the synthetic series of monthly reservoir volumes at the 34 storage reservoirs over a period of 500 years; lastly, the probability of not exceeding stored volumes in individual reservoirs (or with regard to the sum of volumes stored in several interconnected reservoirs) is determined for each month of the year.

The following figures show the curve of the probability of not exceeding stored volumes, for each month of the year, in a single reservoir, Monti Pranu (Figure 18.7), and in the largest water system on the island, Tirso-Flumendosa (Figure 18.8). It is now possible to determine the value of the state indicator by recording monthly the water storage in each system of reservoirs and calculating to which non-exceeding probability it corresponds, relative to the probability functions built with the procedure described above. The following figures represent the historical series of indicators calculated for the two previous systems: Monti Pranu (Figure 18.9) and TirsoFlumendosa (Figure 18.10). The following two maps (Figure 18.11), with all the reservoirs of Sardinia with the respective indicators, show two recent situations: the

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first with different characteristics of alert for the various water systems of the island and the second, more uniform, and with indicators that show a general situation of normality. As can be observed, the indicator value has been divided into four bands that, as we shall see in the next paragraph, correspond to different sets of decisions to be taken and already identified in the water crisis management plan.

Alert pointers and drought mitigation actions Using the tool described above, multiple simulations can be made, with random inputs generating a probability distribution of outputs enabling statistical assessment of performance. This tool is very useful for assessing the risk of droughts associated with planning decisions (system design), on the basis of multiple unconditional hydrological scenarios, and for the real-time management of crisis situations, based on hydrological scenarios conditional on the system’s hydrological state at the time of the decision. In the latter case it is necessary to define rules based on pointers providing for specific actions implementing effective short-term drought mitigation measures. The alert pointer system, which is based on the level of the indicator adopted, that is the probability of not exceeding water storage in the reservoirs, is as follows (Table 18.4). For each level, the following general mitigation actions have been defined. Ordinary regime: for stored volumes in excess of the value with a 50% probability of not exceeding; Vigilance level: for stored volumes within values having between 50% and 30% probability of not exceeding. It is necessary to monitor climate parameters to rapidly identify any further fluctuations that may reduce the mean resources available. Concurrently, consumption should be reduced to an amount that creates only limited discomfort for users. Danger level: for stored volumes between the values with a nonexceeding probability of 30% to 15%. Water supply must be reduced by a substantial degree, in order to face the possible persistence of the dry period, and planned mitigation measures must be implemented. Emergency level: for stored volumes under 15% of the probability of not exceeding. This level should never be reached, since water supply should be restricted once the danger level is reached (see the previous

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level). However, should the emergency level be reached, this would mean that the statistical parameters of the series are continuing to change and therefore supply must be further restricted and the annual mean of water available for distribution must be reassessed. Drought mitigation measures are a combination of structural and nonstructural actions, including, for instance:

- Use of alternative resources - Construction of emergency infrastructure - Implementation of emergency supply levels (restrictions, reductions)

- Combined use of surface resources and groundwater - Supplementation of the emergency plan with other mitigation measures (for instance socio-economic measures)

- Implementation of civil protection plans in emergency situations. As experience has shown, some aspects require especially careful assessment and monitoring:

- it is preferable to anticipate shortages if the costs are not a linear

-

function of the shortage. Therefore it is preferable to have several years with a moderate shortage rather than a single year with a high shortage; measures to meet an anticipated shortage generate costs even though such a shortage may not occur; the timescale of such costs may cover several months or even years: this is a tough decision to make; risk perception is not easy to measure. Different individuals and organizations have different perceptions, which may create conflict situations; it is essential to pursue a technically balanced solution and seek agreement among stakeholders.

Conclusions In the years around 2000 Sardinia experienced severe drought periods, which led to an almost complete suspension of supply for agricultural and

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industrial uses, and to severe restrictions in water supply for residential uses. Since that time, also operating within the projects funded by the European Union such as the WARSYP project, an adequate decision support system has been built and gradually developed which takes the hydrological features of Sardinia into account and enables decision-makers to avoid severe shortages in the Sardinian water supply system. The decision support tool enables a rational use of resources and produces a robust, although not optimum, demand satisfaction plan. A robust plan is a plan that minimizes the global risk of making a wrong decision under any hydrological scenario. The objective was to design and implement an IT-based decision support system under uncertainty about climate and hydrological exogenous inflows and demands for a set of inter-related basin systems over a given planning horizon. The actual support provided to decision-makers depends on the performance of the available tools and techniques. In particular, the support system was designed to achieve the following fundamental objectives: to assess the water system’s reliability; to determine the risk of significant water shortages even over extended areas; and to determine the structural works and management changes required to mitigate the consequences of disastrous drought events. The system also makes it possible to perform a water shortage risk diagnosis and prevention, assess the drought vulnerability of the individual sources and demand nodes, and identify actions to mitigate the most serious consequences. Last, but not least, the tool implemented, by identifying and describing crisis areas and situations by means of easy-to-read quantitative parameters and providing a simulation model to measure the impact of the different decisions on water system performance under different hydrological scenarios, represents a highly effective aid to public participation and stakeholder consultation processes.

References Box, George E.P., and Gwilyn M. Jenkins. Time series analysis. San Francisco: Holden-Day Inc., 1970. Cao Carlo, Enrico Piga, Marco Salis, Giovanni Maria Sechi, and Roberto Silvano. Regional water resources planning and management-The water plan of Sardinia – Preliminary report. International Association for Hydraulic Research, XX Congress. Moscow, 1983.

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WARSYP Water Resources System Planning. European Commission DGXII Science, Research and Development environment and climate programme, 2000.

CHAPTER NINETEEN ENERGY AND TERRITORY: A DIFFICULT BALANCE MATTEO PUTTILLI

Introduction Energy represents, by its real nature, a complex territorial issue that combines, and at the same time goes beyond, economic, social, and environmental issues. According to the geographer Claude Raffestin (2006), energy production, distribution, and consumption can be read as the result of a complex process of socio-spatial organization, with reference to different typologies of energy sources in use, and to their location, to the various structures created for this purpose, to the instruments (planning and political ones) aimed at fostering the use of one source rather than a different one, to the explicit economic, social, and political relations among the different actors playing within the energy market. On whatever scale, the functioning of the energy system entails the research of a difficult and fragile mediation among economic and productive interests, social needs, environmental consequences, and forms of spatial organization. Mediation among these elements hardly ever results in their balance. More often, it expresses a constant tension and, sometimes, an open conflict between energy ventures and local subjects, economy and environment, industry and society. Sardinia is not exempt from such a theoretical obviousness. Conversely, the energy issue in the island shows a peculiarly critical nature, originating – ever since – an in-depth discussion on a wider model of development and on relations with the rest of Italy, as well as, on a greater scale, with the Euro-Mediterranean area. Energy is considered one of the most critical issues of the island, as far as infrastructures and production are concerned, which is a cause and a consequence of a situation of comparative marginality and of a (seemingly incurable)

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weakness both on the economic and on the social front. Besides lacking an effective supply system (in particular as far as natural gases are concerned), Sardinia suffered the localization of high energy-consuming industrial plants (in oil refining, chemistry, and petro-chemistry), which nowadays are experiencing a strong downswing and downsizing, while requiring an expensive and complex process of reconversion that is leaving a severe impact as well as social and environmental costs. On the other hand, energy is considered, now more than ever, a strategic resource. Being endowed with a significant potential from the point of view of the availability of resources (fossil resources in the past, now renewable sources of energy), and with consumption rate that is rather moderate, Sardinia is considered one of the most promising regions from the perspective of an ecological transition, in view of the green economy. However, also in this field there can be found evidence of predatory and speculative attitudes, enacted by outside subjects (especially by big multinational energy companies), which appropriate local resources with low returns for the territory, thus unleashing severe conflicts with the local communities. Stretched between these contradictory dynamics, for Sardinia energy represents an area with sharp contrasts, which is particularly complex and difficult to deal with in a unitary and organic dissertation. Attempting an overall outline, this text is composed as follows. After the introduction, section 2 will retrace some of the crucial moments of the relationship between energy and territory in the recent history of the island; section 3 will outline the framework of the contemporary energy situation, starting from Sardinian energy balance, and focusing on the main environmental and territorial issues; section 4 will reconstruct a framework of the policies as well as of the public and private initiatives as far as energy is concerned, focusing on the development of renewable sources; section 5, finally, will develop some possible interpretations for the contemporary and future relations between energy systems and territorial systems in Sardinia.

A territory which is a resource The recent history of the Sardinian territory and of its transformation, both on a material and on a socio-economic level, is connected in various ways and on several occasions to the use of energy resources (Mori, 1966). In modern times, a history of energy in Sardinia can be traced back to a precise date: i.e. 1851, when the Sulcis coal seam was discovered. As mentioned before (cf. chapters II and III), the Sardinian subsoil is rich in

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ore resources, in particular in its southwest area, where there were ancient ore bodies (metal and others) and coal. The Sulcis coal seam spreads out for around 800 km2 (half of which is underwater), and it is an important supply basin, despite some disadvantages which have been clear from the start, and which nowadays are crucial within the debate on the future of Sardinian coal. Among these, the presence of irregular strata makes the mining procedures complex at first (in particular as far as the mechanization of the operation is concerned). Moreover, the low quality of the extracted material, having a high sulphur concentration, makes it a raw material with a limited calorific value and a high percentage of ashes, with dramatic consequences as far as environmental pollution is concerned. Nevertheless, Sulcis coal has been commercially exploited from the start, even though in order to obtain a significant increase of production it was necessary to wait for WWI (with its subsequent demand for weapons) and, even further, for the advent of Fascism. It was in this period that, implementing the autarkic policies imposed by the regime, the Sardinian coal basin became the main mining centre of Italy, with strong repercussions for the territory. Close to the great mine of Serbariu (the main extraction site), the city of Carbonia was built in little less than a year, and workers coming from all around Italy were housed and hired to work in the mines – with tough working paces and conditions, especially during WWII, when the need for coal became impelling. An emblematic example of a planned city, Carbonia is at the same time the most evident expression of the interdependence between energy resources and the territory, and of how a region can be subjected to energy needs. During the inaugural ceremony of the city, on 16th December 1938, Mussolini said: “oggi (…) nasce (…) il più giovane comune del Regno d’Italia: Carbonia. Esso ha nel nome la sua origine, il suo compito, il suo destino, e avrà nel suo stemma una lanterna da minatore. (…) Sotto lo stimolo dell’autarchia, questa vecchia, fedelissima e per troppo tempo dimenticata terra di Sardegna, rivela i suoi tesori (…)” [“The newest municipality of the Italian Kindgom was born today: Carbonia. It holds its origin, its duty, its destiny in its very name, and it will have a mining lamp in its coat of arms. (...) Under the urge of autarky, this old, faithful, and for too long forgotten land of Sardinia is revealing its treasures.”] (Susmel & Susmel, 1959, p. 220) Starting from the 1920s, the first works of regimentation of the Sardinian water basins appeared, to create reservoirs and plants producing electricity out of a water source. This sector, though not relying on the other regions’ resources, acquired increasing significance for the regional production of energy in the aftermath of WWII. It was during the post-war years that energy matters started to be

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connected to the re-launch of economy on the island through the substantial public funding of the Piano di rinascita [Regeneration Plan] and the Cassa del Mezzogiorno [Development Fund for Southern Italy]. With a clear connection to the theoretical premises of the growth poles, like Perroux’ ones, the great “industrialization nucleuses” rose, being areas dedicated to strategic production and high-energy consumption. Within a few decades, industrial areas developed in Porto Torres (petrochemistry) in the northwest of the island, in Portovesme (ore production) in the southwest, in Sarroch (oil refinery, petrochemistry) in the area of Cagliari, and in Ottana (chemistry) in the North central. The location of these plants changed the role of Sardinia radically in the national context. From being a region producing only raw energy materials, the island became a territory of imports (mostly of crude oil), stockpile and transformation of secondary energy products (types of diesel, petrol, and fuel), and non-energy products (chemicals), aimed at internal consumption and, mainly, at exports out of the region. From the 1950s, the extraction of the Sulcis coal itself decreased, as it was unsuitable for exports, and stopped supplying the national system, instead to be used on site as fuel for the thermal power station of the Portovesme metallurgical centre. Such an in-depth restoration of the Sardinian energy system entailed deep territorial impacts, on which no further insight will be here provided. They concerned the physical environment, through the contamination of different environmental receptors such as soil, water, atmosphere, but also society as a whole, as far as both public health and the increasing production and specialised occupation are concerned, thus putting workers at a greater risk of energy shocks, recession, bankruptcy, and shutdown of production sites. A clear example of this is what happened in the Sulcis area, which suffered both the downsizing and subsequent abandonment of coal production, and also the progressive retirement of the activities of the metallurgical centre in Portovesme. As for coal, after shutting down the most important mining sites (including the Serbariu mine in 1971), the only mine which is still operational (and not just in Sardinia, but the whole Italian territory) is Monte Sinni, which is operated by Carbosulcis, a constantly loss-making public-capital company. As for metallurgy, after several postponements 2014 saw the final shutdown of the aluminium production plants, operated by the American multinational Alcoa. Besides the rough debate on the economic and political causes bringing about the current situation, the “end” of coal and aluminium does not just represent a social crisis for workers who are still hired in production activities, rather for an entire territory born and conceived on an energy-production model which is no longer either sustainable or efficient.

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From this point of view, Sardinia followed the route undertaken by other southern regions involved in industrialization policies. On the one hand, it shared their success, allowing the transition “dal chinino al computer” [“from quinine to computer”], as it was emphatically said by Francesco Compagna (1980), an expert in the social and economic problems of Southern Italy, which means from a situation of clear socioeconomic backwardness to a more widespread modernization and wealth. On the other hand, Sardinia shared their multiple failures, which were mainly embodied in the unsuccessful outcomes of economic and productive autonomy, and, conversely, in a clear and increasing dependence of the territory on the outside, including the instability and uncertainty of globalized markets (Figure 19.1).

Figure 19.1. The chemistry pole of Ottana (province of Nuoro) and its surrounding landscape. Source: picture by the author

Present-day energy situation By observing some of the entries in the present-day regional energy balance, some peculiarities of the Sardinian situation arise (Table 19.1). First of all, Sardinia seems massively dependent on the outside for the supply of raw materials, especially coal and oil, and, to a much lesser extent, for the renewable sources (solid biomasses). Energy reliance on imports exceeds 90% and is above the Italian average (ca. 80%), which is

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well above the European average (ca. 50%). In comparison with a limited internal production (of coal, natural gas, and renewable sources), the island imports great quantities of coal, used for power generation, and oil to destined for the production of electricity and for the refinery, and the subsequent export of final products outside the regional boundaries. Coal

Oil

Natural gas

Renewable energy

Electricity

Internal production

81

0

64

274

/

Incoming balance

1,367

16,001

0

2

/

Outgoing balance

-

12,245

/

/

13

Trasformation input

1,395

18,484

0

183

0

Power stations

1,395

1,099

0

128

0

Refineries

-

16,831

-

-

0

Other plants

0

553

-

55

0

Transformation output

0

17,241

0

1

1,105

Final consume

54

1,957

68

66

927

Table 19.1. Excerpt from the Sardinia energy balance. Source: elaboration on data by Enea, 2008 Almost all the imported oil is absorbed by the Saras refinery in Sarroch, in the province of Cagliari (productive since 1965). Saras represents one of the most important centres of refinery in the whole Mediterranean Sea and it handles 16% of the national refinery capacity. 24% of the refined materials are intended for internal regional consumption, compared to 76% intended for export (44% abroad, 32% to Italy). The produced fuel supplies almost all the other industries in the region, as well as transports and part of the residential consumption.

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Secondly, the Sardinian energy system is peculiar due to its insularity. Such a feature, which may appear self-evident, depends on the level of the energy system infrastructures. Until 2011, when the new submarine cable Sapei came into operation, allowing exchange between Sardinia and the rest of the country, the region was in an almost complete condition of energy isolation, which forced it to provide for the internal power demand autonomously. Moreover, the comparative isolation of Sardinia is highlighted by the lack of a distribution system for natural gas. Such lack entails a series of disadvantages both from an environmental (as natural gas is a less polluting source, compared to coal and oil) and an economic point of view. Recent assessments calculated that introducing natural gas within the regional energy system would allow a 30-40% saving on the present cost of energy, quantified at around 50 million Euros per year. Saving this could have positive effects both on family budgets and on companies’ productivity. Besides building the submarine cable Sapei, the construction of a gas pipeline connecting Algeria to Italy, passing through Sardinia, has been considered for more than a decade. This is the Galsi project, and energy companies from Italy, Sardinia and, internationally, Algeria are taking part in it. Galsi would introduce natural gas into the Sardinian regional system. However, despite several improvements in the preliminary research, the project has been stalled (both for bureaucratic and macro-economic reasons) and its achievement remains uncertain. In view of this, the Sardinian region has started a parallel plan to begin the supply of methane to Sardinia through other technological solutions (among which creating regasification plants of LNG – liquefied natural gas). Finally, the Sardinian energy system shows peculiar issues as regards environmental impact and efficiency. For instance, the lack of natural gas entails a higher resort to oil derivatives and to electricity to satisfy heating needs (for indoor and water heating), which are inefficient as far as both the environment and the economy are concerned. Compared to other Italian regions, Sardinia is also penalized for global and per-capita CO2 emissions, which are particularly high due to the significance of the energy, metallurgy, and refinery sectors, but also compared to the lower population density in relation to the rest of Italy. As it is, the regional system stands out for a marked structural inflexibility, opposing the introduction of radical changes over the shortmedium term, both because of its almost complete dependence on oil and of its minimal differentiation in the energy mix, and for the qualities of the internal demand, mostly centred around big energy-consuming industries, particularly hard to reconvert and to supply through various primary

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sources. In brief, the Sardinian system relies on the outside, it has a high consumption of primary sources, it is a low-efficiency system, with a significant impact from the environmental point of view, and with little revenues for the regional territory, which is in charge of a service (the energy transformation one) for the remaining national territory, keeping its negative externalities inside.

Development policies and perspectives Though facing a structural situation of “resistence” to be changed, there are initiatives and projects in the region to step in and rationalize its energy system. In 2014 the Sardinian region approved the new Piano Energetico Ambientale Regionale [Regional Environmental Energy Plan] (pear), in which – in concert with the community and national aims – goals for 2020 are outlined in terms of greater safety, saving, and efficiency, of reducing climate-change emissions, of differentiating energy sources, of infrastructural strengthening and valorisation of endogenous primary sources (Regione Sardegna, 2012). The success of such strategies is connected to implementing strategic interventions in the sectors of both fossil and renewable sources. Besides the above-mentioned infrastructures necessary to supply natural gas, there has been a debate over the reconversion of coalmines and of some significant plants for at least twenty years. They are ambitious and complex interventions, yet to be completely defined, as they address weak or crisis areas, which require considerable capital investments. As for the Sulcis coal, the goal is to avoid an ultimate shutdown of its extraction, and to promote a transition towards a more sustainable use of this resource, through the implementation of an experimental project of Carbon Capture and Storage – CCS. This means the geological confinement of CO2 generated by a source of combustion and, therefore, a greater sustainability of the energy production system. On the industrial side, a hypothesis has been put forward by some petrochemical companies to reconvert the centre of Porto Torres into biodegradable and eco-friendly production, starting from the use of raw vegetable materials coming from integrated and local agricultural branches, and supporting research in “green chemistry”. Finally, as for fossil fuels, in 2011 Saras started the research and extraction of natural gas in the central and eastern part of the island, in the province of Oristano. The identified deposit (which is estimated to host 3 billion m3 of gas) would allow extraction of raw material mostly intended for regional consumption (ca. 150 million m3 per year, for a total 20 years). Save for the above-mentioned projects, in the last few years the most

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relevant changes from the energy point of view have involved the sector of renewable sources, for which the island represents a particularly fertile expansion site (Table 19.2).

2005

2011

Sardinia

Italy

Sardinia

Italy

Hydro-electric

2.1%

12.7%

2.2%

12.7%

Wind

3.0%

0.7%

9.1%

3.0%

Solar

0.0%

0.0%

2.7%

3.1%

Biomass

3.0%

14%

5.0%

3.1%

Other

0.0%

15%

0.0%

1.6%

Total Renewable

5.4%

16.3%

18.9%

23.5%

Table 19.2. Percentage of contribution by the different renewable sources to the regional electric consumption. Source: elaboration of GSE data, 2012 Although an accurate comparison with the wider national situation is not significant, due to the peculiarities of the Sardinian situation, it can be remarked that, between 2005 and 2011, renewable sources passed from slightly above 5.4% to 18.9% on the national average of regional electric consumption, which means a growth rate higher that the national average. Taking the non-electricity sector into consideration, which is more difficult to estimate, the contribution of renewable energy sources to the final energy consumption would be narrowed down to 8.4% for Sardinia (which is above the Italian average of 8.2%). Until 2020, the renewable energy sector is expected to show further growth in order to match the EU goal of 17% out of the overall energy consumption met by renewable energy. Approved in 2012, with the aim to distribute the national goal among different regions, the Burden Sharing decree of the Italian Government

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established that the amount of renewable energy out of the Sardinian overall consumption could increase up to 17.8% (with a 358% further increase compared to the present situation). Besides a regular amount of hydro-electricity, the expansion of renewable energy in Sardinia is due to the introduction of solar technologies and biomasses (increasingly used in domestic heating), but mostly to the development of wind energy production, with its percentage contribution being well above the national average. In Sardinia, the production of electricity from wind-sources is lower only if compared to Sicily and Apulia, while it is first for the average size of its plants in terms of power (around 25 MW (Bagliani, Puttilli, 2010). From the point of view of power, Sardinia has particularly favourable anemological conditions, which could allow the installation of around 1,800 MW (whereas slightly more than 600 MW had been installed in 2010) Therefore, considering both the growth prospects of renewable energy and the several pilot and experimental projects related to the energy sector, it is easy to understand why Sardinia is considered one of the territories where prospective development is higher for the green economy and more sustainable and eco-friendly energy solutions. Yet, the success of such prospects can not exclusively rely on the quantitative increase of some factors and indicators (such as the amount of energy produced via renewable sources, or the reconversion of some industrial plants), rather it depends also on how such interventions are accomplished, and on the quality of relations that these new projects will establish with the territory and with local public and private subjects. Such considerations require a further critical development of the relationship between energy systems, territorial systems, and development models.

Which energy justice are we heading to? The overall conditions of the Sardinian energy system show a situation of comparative disadvantage, if compared to other Italian regions, which can be described, with reference to the international debate, in terms of energy injustice (Heffron, McCauley, 2014). The concept of energy justice, in its original meaning, refers to an imbalance in the distribution, localization and organization of energy infrastructures, which can cause circumstances of territorial, economic, and social inequality within one region, or between two or more regions. The energy policies and interventions’ goal is to intervene in the system in order to achieve greater justice. Thus, interventions can be aimed at electricity infrastructures, industrial reconversion, and the dissemination of plants for the production

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of renewable sources of energy. However, there is a second meaning of energy justice, as crucial as the first one, which implies involving stakeholders in a specific area (public bodies, companies, citizens) in undertaking new choices within decision-making processes – starting from those concerning more general strategies and directional policies, up to those on specific aspects such as the localization of plants and energy infrastructures – as well as for the final implementation of the projects (Cross, 2007; Ottinger et al., 2014). According to this meaning, injustice occurs if the choices and interventions as far as energy is concerned are taken and implemented by excluding, or in the most conflicting situations, in sharp contrast to the the wishes of subjects of a specific area. On such a matter, there have been several projects in Sardinia stirring opposition from the local committees and associations, which denounced their exogenous and speculative nature (i.e. interest in making profits for the companies presenting the projects, rather than in creating revenues for the area), and the devised environmental impacts. Such conflicting situations, that cannot be further investigated here, similarly involve great industrial and infrastructural projects (from reconverting Carbosulcis to the Green Chemistry project in Porto Torres, from the Galsi gas pipeline to the Saras mining project), as well as the localization and implementation of wind farms and photovoltaic power stations. In some cases, following the protests against the easements for military purposes on Sardinian territory, a model of territorial colonization by the subjects who are outside the Sardinian context has been denounced, for which Sardinia would represent nothing more than a land to be conquered and exploited in economic terms. As for the renewable energy sources, there are several examples of supporting protests. Tempting national incentives available for almost a decade aroused interest from large energy national and international companies, and entailed the proliferation of projects in the wind, biomass, and photovoltaic sectors (Figure 19.2). Most of the plants created in Sardinia are massive, in view of maximizing energy and economic return, while the participation of local subjects and companies almost amounts to nothing. There is an overall lack of cooperative organization based on local partnerships between public and private bodies, while SPEs, (special purpose entities) created ad hoc by large international players, are predominant for the investments in this sector. It is a process involving not only Sardinia, though it has found a particularly favourable context here, from both the environmental and the regulatory point of view. Although sometimes investments occurred in agreement with local authorities, and generated economic revenues for the territory (in particular as a financial

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compensation), there have been several cases in which real territorial conflicts arose, or in which companies have been charged with perpetuating purely speculative attitudes. As far as wind energy is concerned, the confrontation over the landscape planning led to a review of the existing regulations so as to prohibit locating plants in sensitive locations, and to limit them to areas which have already been compromised (such as industrial areas). As for photovoltaic and biomass energy production, regulation is still uncertain, and projects have proliferated around the region of photovoltaic greenhouses (strongly criticized for the low agricultural production and soil occupation), and biomass plants (over which serious doubts remain, in some cases, about the real capacity of the territories where they have been inserted, to provide them with a proper supply of raw material).

Figure 19.2. The wind energy plant of Ulassai (Province of Ogliastra). Source: picture by the author

The organization of the Sardinian energy system remains a controversial matter, where issues such as for environmental, social, and economic justice overlap. The potential future transformations of the system are strained between two opposed models matching the “ideal types” either of “exploitation” or of “valorization” (Bagliani et al., 2010; Puttilli, 2014). These are two potential interpretations not to be viewed as absolute ones, rather as useful to interpret the deep nature of the Sardinian energy issue. In fact, the distinction between exploitation and valorization is not only a terminological, but also a substantial one. “Exploitation” of resources entails (i) being reliant on the outside, where transformations are driven by exogenous logic and capital; (ii) a non-lasting process, whereby when exogenous contribution is lacking this stops the use of a given resource to its full potential; and (iii) a zero-sum advantage, where there

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are “winning” subjects with a positive revenue, and “losing” subjects, suffering from the negative externality. Conversely, “valorisation” of resources entails (i) using local resources through endogenous initiatives of local subjects, and therefore (ii) a long-lasting process (iii) that results in a positive-sum result for the territory. In this very last case, it is not a matter of a local closure towards the outside, rather of an active participation of the subjects of an area in establishing the rules for using resources, devising and accomplishing interventions. Between these two poles, there are multiple in-between solutions, on which the evolution of energy systems in Sardinia relies, such as dependence, increasing energy injustice, more equality situations, autonomy, and environmental sustainability.

References Bagliani, Marco and Matteo Puttilli. “L’energia in Piemonte e nelle regioni italiane”. In Piemonte Economico Sociale 2009. Turin: Ires Piemonte, pp. 151-172, 2010 Bagliani, Marco, Egidio Dansero and Matteo Puttilli. “Territory and energy sustainability: the challenge of renewable energy sources”. Journal of Environmental Planning and Management 53, pp. 457-472, 2010. Cross, Catherine. “Community perspective of wind energy: the application of a justice and community fairness framework to increase social acceptance”. Energy Policy 35, pp. 2727-2736, 2007. Heffron, Raphael J. and Darren McCauley. “Achieving sustainable supply chains through energy justice”. Applied energy 123, pp. 435-437, 2014. Holyfield, Ryan, Michael Porter and Gordon Walker. “Spaces of environmental justice: frameworks for critical engagement”. Antipode, 41, pp. 591-612, 2009. Ottinger, Gwen, Timothy J. Hargrave and Eric Hopson. “Procedural justice in wind facility siting: recommendations for state-led siting processes”. Energy Policy 65, pp. 662-669, 2009. Mori, Alberto. “Sardegna”. In Le regioni d’Italia, Turin: UTET, 1966. Puttilli, Matteo. Geografia delle fonti rinnovabili. Energia e territorio per un’eco-ristrutturazione della società. Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2014. Raffestin, Claude. “L’industria: dalla realtà materiale alla messa in immagine”. In Geografie dei paesaggi industriali, edited by Egidio Dansero and Alberto Vanolo. Milan: FrancoAngeli, pp. 19-37, 2006.

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Regione Sardegna. Piano Energetico Ambientale Regionale al 2020, Rapporto preliminare di scoping. Cagliari: Assessorato dell’Industria, 2012. Susmel, Edoardo and Duilio Susmel. “Dal viaggio in Germania all’intervento dell’Italia nella Seconda Guerra Mondiale”. In Opera omnia di Benito Mussolini. Florence: La Fenice, 1957.

PART III PERSPECTIVES

CHAPTER TWENTY THE MEDITERRANEAN CONTEXT RAFFAELE CATTEDRA

The Mediterranean Context It is difficult to talk of Sardinia in the Mediterranean context without relating to the power of representation, but above all to the puissance of the myth. And we know quite well how the systems of space representation are a consubstantial dimension of territorialisation. “Symbolic control” participates from the outset in constructing a territory. It also participates in giving it a meaning together with its material construction and its sense structuring.1 It is not by chance that Bernard Kayser, at the beginning of La Méditerranée. Une géographie de la fracture (1996), writes: “The Mediterranean is a myth, the Mediterranean is an image.” The representations of Sardinia (be they scientific or external ones that emerge from the most impressionistic imaginations of travellers, as well as from the local collective imagination, all of which mutually influence each other and may even converge) on the one hand assume the features and stereotypes that belong to the now consolidated image of the Mediterranean Sea (of a Mediterranean that is both real and, at the same time, an ideological “product”). But, on the other hand, they display characters and clichés that differ greatly, and attribute a strong and clearcut individuality to this island. This is to say an autochthonous character, which for the most part tends to shape Sardinia as if it were struggling with a “granitic immobility” all of its own (Aresu, p. 62). The force of inertia in the latter representations appears to resist even the passage of time and the transformation of space. Timelessness and extraterritoriality are indeed two classic stereotypes in the description of Sardinia: an island “outside of history”, but also outside of space, which is to say a “Sardinia, 1

See Dematteis, 1985; Turco, 1988, for the modalities of territorialisation: denomination, reification and structuring of space.

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which is like nowhere”.2 Nevertheless, considering its geographical position, from the Phoenicians to the Romans (and perhaps even before them), passing on to the Pisans, Genoese and Spanish, and then the Piedmontese and Napoleon, Sardinia has been considered strategic from a military standpoint for the control of the Mediterranean Sea. Later, owing to the presence of the NATO base on the island of La Maddalena (closed only in 2006, long after the end of the Cold War), Sardinia was also presented as the “Aircraft Carrier of the Mediterranean Sea”.3 As is quite common for islands – “the very archetype of the Mediterranean Sea” (Miossec, 2001) – the evolution of Sardinia’s image shows deep contradictions, a paradox that places, like the two sides of a coin, negative and positive paradigms, one in front of the other and with the force of an oxymoron, “repulsion and seduction”, isolation and encounter, dependency and independence, exile and hospitality, a bad reputation and an undeniable attraction. These are the paradigms of a land where untamed beauty clashes with malaria, banditry and (later) the welcoming of tourists, or underdevelopment and technological innovation. But such an image must be placed within a context of change or overturning of the systems of values and narrations that have had, and still have, the Mediterranean itself as their subject. From the sea that gave birth to a civilization to a “region” of underdevelopment and economic lack; from a land of colonial conquest to a microcosm where all comes together and blends (races, languages, cultures, religions, customs and traditions); from a land of chaos to a place where democracy and civilization were invented; from a sea of violence and clashes between civilizations to a holiday land and tourist destination. Edgard Morin writes: “To understand the Mediterranean Sea one must conceive at the same time its unity, diversity and oppositions; what is required is a thought that is not linear, that includes both the complementarity and the antagonisms. Yes,

2

D.H. Lawrence, 1921. See also below the quote from this author. Coni & Serra, 1982, La portaerei del Mediterraneo. Storia e cronaca della Sardegna nella seconda guerra mondiale. Edizioni della Torre. Sardinia remains strategic for the widespread presence of military areas (35,000 hectares), missile launching sites and areas for manoeuvres of the Italian and NATO armed forces (during manoeuvres as many as 20,000 square kilometres of sea - an area almost as large as that of all Sardinia - can be placed off limits to fishing activities). This issue has been the subject of a lively debate concerning the environmental impacts and the inhabitants’ health, and this has led to political strife over the “island’s sovereignty” (see Codonesu, 2013, especially p. 23). 3

290

Chapter Twenty the Mediterranean is the sea of communication and conflict, the sea of polytheisms and monotheisms, the sea of fanaticism and tolerance.”4

Sardinia, like a continent (in the Mediterranean Sea)? “Sardinia is a fragment of Tyrrhenide, the large continent that sank into the sea in a most remote era.” (M. Serra, 1959, Sardegna quasi un continente)”5

Many authors, starting from the anarchist geographer Elisée Reclus (1868-70; 18756), have explained that islands have played a far more important role than the mainland in the birth, development and spread of civilization in the Mediterranean area. But they have also observed that this role has not remained the same over time and that it has changed, and perhaps even been inverted, by human actions on the territory and historical vicissitudes, in light of the extreme vulnerability of the islands. Sardinia (situated between latitude 38°51’ and 41°15’ N and longitude 8°8’ and 9°50’ E) is undoubtedly a Mediterranean island, a sea of the “middle latitudes by antonomasia.”7 Manlio Brigaglia (1981, pp. 5-6), referring to a suggestion of classification by Lucien Febvre between “carrefour-islands” and “conservatoire-islands” (to which Sardinia appears to be assigned), proposes to overcome this schematic vision. But it is not difficult to come across descriptions that represent it as a “remote Mediterranean island”8 or, conversely, as the “heart of the Mediterranean”9, as

4

Morin, 1988-89, “Penser la Méditerranée et méditerranéiser la pensée”, Confluences Méditerranée, n. 28, pp. 34-47. 5 Serra, Sardegna quasi un continente, 1959; third edition, Serra M., Samugheo C., Sardegna quasi un continente, 2 vols (vol. 1, Sardegna quasi un continente; vol. 2 Sardegna quasi un continente 30 anni dopo), Maga, Cagliari, 1989. See also the four-episode documentary by M. Serra for RAI, 1961, in Gli Archivi della Memoria: http://www.sardegnadigitallibrary.it/index.php?xsl=626&id=66832. 6 See: Cattedra, 2009. 7 The Mediterranean Sea develops between latitudes 30° and 45° N and longitudes 5°30’ W and 36° E. 8 Definition of Sardinia in: Neri N., Il lavoro geografico, Florence, La Nuova Italia, 1996, p. 353 (geography textbook for the lower secondary schools), cited in: Loi, 2006, p. 204. 9 Agenzia Regionale Sardegna Promozione, 2013, Sardegna. L’Isola che danza, brochure for tourists, Regione Autonoma della Sardegna, (“Sardinia is the heart of the Mediterranean area, not only owing to its geographic location, but also to its culture, history and traditions”, p. 3).

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“a paradise in the Mediterranean Sea”10, “wonderfully situated at the centre of the Tyrrhenian Sea”11, even up to making it - erroneously - “the centre of the Mediterranean” itself (sic). In turn, the Mediterranean Sea, situated at the crossroads of Africa, Asia and Europe, was considered (by Western culture) the “centre of the world” up to the conquest of the Americas. But, to be specific, the Mediterranean does not belong to any “continent”. This is to say that it is not included in any part of the world that extends over land in continuity. And this is why its individuality was affirmed late. Overcoming, in some way, the artificiality of the system of geographic normalization, according to which the scraps of the world have been built and established, the recognition of the Mediterranean Sea as a geographical “region”, both in environmental and human terms, traces its origins only as far back as the 19th century.12 Reclus provided a pioneering geographical framework for the identification of the Mediterranean area. His approach humanises the sea, and assigns the Mediterranean a civilizing role based on universalistic values (drawing on Saint Simonian Chevallier’s ideas going back to the 1830s).13 Although the Mediterranean has become an academic and policy object, the strictly geographical identification of this area remains controversial. Geographical limits are persistently uncertain and ambiguous in relation to the variety of criteria that can be adopted (alternatively based on climatic, bio-geographical, hydrographical, geomorphological, agricultural, human, cultural, geopolitical, etc. indicators).14 Even today, the main indicators 10

Madau, 2000, Un paradiso nel Mediterraneo (I luoghi naturalistici più incantevoli della Sardegna), Alghero. 11 Reclus, 1875, p. 580. 12 On this point, see Bourget, Lepetit, Nordman, Sinarellis 1998. 13 However, the identification of the Mediterranean as a “region” is due to the work of botanical geographers. In Augustin Pyramus de Candolle’s works, particularly in those published between 1805 and 1820, twenty botanical regions of the world were identified; these included the “Mediterranean region” (Drouin, 1998). In the last quarter of the 19th century, the link between the advancement of climatology within the subject of human geography led to the codification of the Mediterranean climate (particularly by the German geographer Theodor Fischer). See: Deprest, 2002; Cattedra, 2009. 14 On the basis of these criteria, some countries can either be included or excluded from the commonly held classifications of the Mediterranean area (cases like those of Portugal, Macedonia or Jordan). The same applies to cities (such as Marrakesh, Madrid, Damascus, Jerusalem or Milan) and other administrative regions. As a consequence, the delimitation of the Mediterranean space is characterized by a ‘variable geometry’: the limits defined by the cultivation of olive trees, as well as

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concerning the Mediterranean region customarily result from the collection of data referring to sub-continental units (Europe, southern Europe, North Africa, the Balkan region, Anatolia, the Middle East, the MENA region) and ‘cultural areas’ (such as the Arab-Islamic world). And yet, while Sardinia has been defined as Quasi un continente (“Almost a continent”), this not only the ambitious slogan of an advertising campaign launched by the Regional Tourism Board in 2009, to promote the island as a land where one can find (the beauties of) five continents in one (cf. chapter by Marcello Tanca in this volume).15 In fact, it is the efficacious literary suggestion coined by Marcello Serra to portray the island in one of his works in 1959.16 The point is that this poetic metaphor, finding some confirmation in the island’s geological history, is part of an interpretation of Sardinia that originates from an imaginary and legendary sedimentation built over time and tends to assert itself as a scientific fact, assuming a performing efficacy even today. Quasi un continente (“Almost a continent”), as a “relic” of a primordial continent, a sort of “stone raft” in the Mediterranean, we could say, borrowing the definition from the novel by José Saramago, whose imagination created the idea of the contemporary drifting of the Iberian peninsula that detaches itself from Europe to sail into the Atlantic.17 And not by chance is it associated with a stone. Ichnusa, the name the Greeks first gave to Sardinia, which means sandal or foot in reference to the shape of the island (Figure 20.1), can be construed in the sense of a “stone footprint” (despite the fact that today Ichnusa commonly and simply refers to the name of a beer produced in Sardinia!). And it is myth that intervenes to give substance to one of the most authoritative scientific descriptions, by Alberto Mori, a full professor of geography at the University of Cagliari from 1946 to 1954,18 who introduced the first, and even today

the boundaries of watersheds, and/or the isohyets measuring rainfall, or the ‘Mediterranean climate’, as well as the administrative boundaries of the coastal area. (Cattedra, 2003; 2011). 15 http://www.regione.sardegna.it/documenti/1_46_20090702140230.pdf. 16 Serra, Sardegna quasi un continente, 1959; third edition, Serra, Samugheo, Sardegna quasi un continente, 2 vols (vol. 1, Sardegna quasi un continente; vol. 2 Sardegna quasi un continente 30 anni dopo). Cagliari: Maga, 1989. See also the documentary in four episodes directed by Marcello Serra for the RAI, 1961, in Gli archivi della Memoria: http://www.sardegnadigitallibrary.it/index.php?xsl=626&id=66832. 17 Saramago, The Stone Raft, Harback & Paperback, Harcourt Brace, USA, 1994. 18 See Loi, 1999; 2006.

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best known, compendium of Sardinia’s human geography, published in 1966 and later in a new edition in 1975: “On observing the map, Sardinia and nearby Corsica - just 12 km to the north - appear as two enormous footprints left by a giant who, with three huge steps, crossed the sea from Africa to Europe.” 19

In any case, in myth, rhetoric and reality, stone remains one of Sardinia’s salient features, owing to the complexity of the long labour of its geological birth and the diversity of its geomorphology. In Sardinia, all geological eras have left their traces.20 And then, whether we like it or not, the architecture of its dolmens, its “giants’ graves”, sacred wells and nuraghi are all made of stone and megaliths; the “domus de janas” were carved out of rocks, just as were the many necropolises of the ancient peoples who inhabited the island. This recalls the still open debate on the relations between the people of Sardinia and Mediterranean civilizations in prehistory and ancient times. In this sense, Reclus writes that Sardinia “is perhaps the western European land with the greatest number of prehistoric monuments.” (1875 p. 59) And it is for this reason, according to Serra, that it emanates and expresses an “ancestral religion of stone” (1958).21 We note that the “granitic immobility” mentioned above appears even in contemporary political rhetoric. So in 2009, at the end of Sardinia’s regional election campaign, the incumbent president Renato Soru stated: “Sardinia is like a nuraghe. It does not move!” And yet Soru, the founder of Tiscali, the national and international web provider, is also undeniably the region’s foremost exponent of contemporary technological innovation.22 But he is also the one who, in 2005, launched the project for the Bètile, the “Museum of Nuragic and Contemporary Art”, also called the “Museum of

19

Mori, 1966, Sardegna, Unione tipografico editrice Torinese (UTET), vol. XVIII in the collection Le Regioni d’Italia, founded by Almagià, directed by Migliorini, p. 3. 20 See the chapters by Antonio Funedda and Andrea Vacca in this volume. 21 The chapter “Il linguaggio delle pietre” (The Language of the Stones). 22 This emblematic sentence explains Soru’s “international localism” quite well, associating the revival of distinctive values and of international repositioning, connected both to his competence in the new information and communication technologies, according to an approach that, more in general, characterizes the positions of neo-liberal progressivism (Cattedra, Memoli, 2014). The sentence is taken from Aresu, 2010, and apparently shows an attempt to trigger pro-Sardinian sentiments and bring voters into the fold of Soru’s coalition, which failed to win the election. In 2014, Soru was elected to the European Parliament.

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Contemporary Art and Nuragic Art of the Mediterranean in Cagliari”.23 The Regional Government, in agreement with the Municipality of Cagliari and the Port Authority, issued an international call for projects, whose winner was the Anglo-Iraqi architect Zaha Hadid (whose project somehow recalls the form of a nuraghe). But the project, which triggered political and cultural strife of different kinds, was suspended in 2009.24 Quasi un continente aims to strongly emphasize Sardinia’s insularity. Unlike the variable geometries of the lands that surround the Mediterranean, the sea that surrounds Sardinia easily defines its coastline, giving its stretches of coast a sense of confinement. These measure some 1,850 linear kilometres. This length is not negligible: it corresponds to more than 10% of the entire coastline of the Mediterranean islands, a rich world with more than 3,300 islands (Miossec, 2001). 25 In fact, Sardinia is the second largest Mediterranean island (24,100 sq. km). It comes after Sicily, but far ahead of Cyprus, Crete and Corsica (which are all less than 10,000 sq km in area); and it is much larger than Malta (246 sq km) with its slightly fewer than 373,000 inhabitants. And yet, unlike Sardinia, Malta and Cyprus are sovereign states. And in 2004 they became member states of the European Union. But these two island-states are geographically closer to the African and Asian continents, respectively. More specifically, Sardinia, situated in the middle of the western Mediterranean basin, is closer to Africa than to Europe by a few miles. The distance between its 23

http://www.urbanfile.org/project/europe/italy/cagliari/museo-betile Betile is a word of Semitic origin (Beit al) that literally means “the dwelling of God” and refers to a sacred stone, or a stele of phallic or anthropomorphic form, corresponding to a cult object. These objects, common to many Mediterranean civilizations, have been found in Sardinia in many giants’ graves of the nuragic period (Bronze Age, 18th century B.C.). Zaha Hadid defines the project’s concept as follows: “The new museum is like a coralline concretization, concave on the inside, hard and porous on the outside surface, but capable of hosting, in a continuous osmotic exchange with the outside environment, cultural activities in a lively and changing environment. From time to time it resembles the ground, creating a new landscape, at other times it acquires a massiveness that defines a new skyline.” (Hadid, 2006, p. 6) The result of the regional elections of February 2009 saw Soru’s political downfall: since he had supported the project, the Municipality of Cagliari decided not to ratify the agreement reached with the regional administration in 2005 for the building of the museum (Cattedra, Memoli, 2014). 25 Of which Greece alone has 2,000, though approximately only 60 of them have an area above 10 km2. The total perimeter of all the Mediterranean lands measures 18,000 km, and is equivalent to less than 40% of the entire coastline of the basin. 24

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southernmost extremity, Cape Teulada, and Cape Ferrat in Tunisia is 178 km, while the distance that separates it from the Italian peninsula, measured between Cape Ferro and Monte Argentario, is 10 km longer (188 km) (Fig. 20.2). Although evident in itself, it has to be recalled that the cultural and political belonging of a land to a continent is not the result of simple geographical determinism.26

Figure 20.2. Sardinia in the Western Mediterranean with distances. Source: Mori A., 1966

Quasi un continente, then, owing to the extreme variety of its ecosystems, to the diversity of the fabric of its territory and to the

26

On the subject of geographic proximity, we can consider, for example, the close relations between Sardinia and Tunisia in the 19th century (Marilotti, 2006; Atzeni, 2011), but also some contemporary cultural and academic initiatives (Sistu, 2007), such as the recent conferences: “Sardegna e Tunisia. Un patrimonio comune verso uno sviluppo condiviso” (Sardinia and Tunisia. A common heritage towards shared development). University of Cagliari, 12th-13th April 2013; “Dialoghi tra due rive. Ricerche, sguardi, esperienze da Cagliari a Tunisi e ritorno” (Dialogues between two shores: Research, outlooks, experiences from Cagliari to Tunis and back) Tunis, University of Manouba, 4th February 2015.

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peculiarity of the rhythm of its landscapes.27 Quasi un continente also owing to the features called up to distinguish this Italian region on the basis of its cultural and historical heritage. For example, the language – if one believes that the Sardinian language is an “area of resistance” (against the hegemony of Italian), or that “language determines Sardinia’s space” (Aresu, 2010). But we must not forget that in the Mediterranean we can count as many as sixty different languages,28 and that for many centuries a common language had existed in the Mediterranean, known as a lingua franca, or sabir, an unwritten and culturally autonomous language of communication which reached its peak in the Modern Age only to disappear with the advent of colonialism (Dakhlia, 2008). Thus we can wonder whether the phrase “language and resistance”, used to identify a distillation of what has been defined as Sardinia’s “permanence of resistance” (i.e. costante resistenziale) can be considered a relative point, or perhaps even a more universal fact. Moreover, the ethnocentric and Mediterranean denominations of barbarians, Berbers (the autochthonous Amazigh populations of North Africa) and the Barbaricini (the inhabitants of Sardinia’s Barbagia regions), have the same semantic root. From the southern coast of the Mediterranean, in a tangible and dramatic context of resistance, the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish has written a poem of great geographic evocation that appears to respond to this issue with a far stronger force than the military occupation of his land: “And the land is transmitted like the language.”29

Quasi un continente once again aims to distinguish Sardinia at a political level, too: from the autonomy of its administrative statute to the never-abandoned claims for the island’s sovereignty and “independence”. From this standpoint, the “quasi” (almost) continent can be interpreted not so much with reference to Sardinia as a geographic entity, but to the expression of “a failed nation”, formulated by the regionalist intellectual Emilio Lussu.30 The advocates of independence, who had not accepted the 27

See the chapter on the landscape by Marcello Tanca in this volume. Balta, Rulleau, 2006 (the paragraph “Six rives et soixante langues”). See also: http://www10.gencat.cat/casa_llengues/AppJava/it/diversitat/diversitat/llengues_m editerrania.jsp. 29 Darwish, Au dernier soir sur cette terre, translation from Arabic to French by Elias Sanbar, Actes Sud, Paris, 1990. 30 The expression is found in the following sentence: “It is that we feel we are a failed nation, still without full consciousness or without wanting to recognize it should be one, nor could it be otherwise, that such an island, so small compared to 28

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1948 statute of autonomy, later took this statement up, though in the opposite sense.31 On closer examination, this nationalist aspiration finds support in the very period in which several countries of the southern coast of the Mediterranean saw the rise of nationalist movements that led to their independence in the 1950s and 1960s. Quasi un continente, finally, to recall what may be considered Sardinia’s basic geographic, social or economic “constraints”, whether they be identified as structural or contingent ones: the climate, the aridity, the distance from the mainland, the relatively low demographic threshold (1,664,000 inhabitants in 2013), the “development gap”, the late impact of industrialization, as well as deindustrialization, and the disruptive effects of today’s economic crisis on workers. In any case, all this appears to converge towards its becoming the land of a mythical Sardinia – the Mediterranean imaginary, transposed from science to politics, from poetry to geology, passing through geography.32

Outside History vs Inside History: the resistance of geographic determinism and the consequences of globalization “Where then? (…) Sardinia, which is like nowhere. Sardinia, which has no history, no date, no race, no offering. Let it be Sardinia. They say neither Romans nor Phoenicians, Greeks nor Arabs ever subdued Sardinia. It lies the large ones of the other seas, with its position in the Mediterranean Sea, could not live independent and sovereign in any century.” Lussu, 1951, “L’avvenire della Sardegna”, Il ponte, a. VII, no. 9-10, September-October 1951, p. 957 (quoted in Brigaglia’s introduction to the Italian translation of the volume by Le Lannou, Pastori e contadini di Sardegna, Edizioni della Torre, Cagliari, 1979, p. X). See also Lussu, 1919 and Coppola, 1997. 31 The same formula was also used, but in an ambiguous way, by a high-ranking Sardinian politician: the former President of the Italian Republic Francesco Cossiga, who also speaks of Sardinia as an “unfinished nation”. See La Nuova Sardegna, 15.05.2002 (interview of F. Cossiga: http://intervistesardegna.blogspot.it/2009/01/francesco-cossiga.html). 32 On the contradictions and nonsense of the commonplaces on Sardinia, analysed in schoolbooks, see Loi, 2006. Among these: insularity and the distance from the mainland, the difficulty of maritime connections, the hostile nature, the isolation of the interior, the solitude of shepherds, the capricious climate, malaria, the aridity of the soil, banditry, livestock stealing and kidnapping, the diffident character of the Sardinian people, but also the uncontaminated sea, the beauty of the coasts, the rugged lands, the most atypical of Italy’s regions.

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D.H. Lawrence’s novel, cited here, seems to crystallize a representation of the island that had already been established on a stable basis during the 19th century, and he himself partly gave support to this. But in reality, what Lawrence wrote is far more complex. He hoped that Sardinia, like other places the writer-traveller had lived in and visited in his lifetime, would remain outside the hegemony of the machine of modernity, of capitalism and of what was to become known as globalization. But what is reported in his writing, in the dominant description of Sardinia, is his idea of a land, certainly one with a very ancient history, which remained outside history even in the first decades of the 20th century when he made his short visit to the island. It is a land that remote and recent conquerors attempted to subjugate, never truly succeeding, though leaving their mark. It is an island that still remains outside civilization itself. “The closest land outside the world” - this according to the anthropologist Bachisio Bandino - is the image of Sardinia that the advertising machine has conveyed in an operation that “simply reduces history to geology”.34 We may say that Sardinia has been interpreted (and continues to allow itself to be interpreted) as one of the Terrae incognitae, favouring the dominant ethnological and anthropological interpretation (in the classic sense of the study of a faraway elsewhere), and at the same time as a deterministic geography. A geography that in the guise of popularization and information for the general public, as well as of scientific and academic expressions, acritically continues to reproduce stereotypes of a deterministic nature. These are stereotypes taken from authors who wrote in the past: in particular A. Ferrero Della Marmora (1826 and 1860), E. Reclus (1869 and 1875), M. Le Lannou (1941, 1982), and A. Mori (1966). The paradox is that while they refer to the “possibilistic” paradigm

33 In the translations of de Carlo and Vittorini (Mondadori 1961), “Sardinia, which is like nowhere”, was rendered in Italian as “La Sardegna che non assomiglia a nessun altro luogo” (Sardinia, which does not resemble any other place). This sentence was taken and used as an advertisement for Sardinia, as well as in the popular scientific literature and the media to welcome tourists in the island. 34 Bandino, “Sardegna”, in: Sardegna, Atlas edizioni, “Collezione Regioni e città d’Italia”, 1983, p. 5 (pp. 5-9).

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approach, and consider humans and society the motor of their destiny,35 the latter three authors, as well as those who have followed them, remain trapped in a fundamentally deterministic vision of Sardinia. This is to say that theirs is a narration in which insularity and the island’s physical and climatic characteristics represent a “natural” and substantial determinant in the evolution of Sardinia itself.36 In any case, even in the supposed single, unique, peculiar and autochthonous Sardinian identity, the island does not appear to escape from what J.M. Miossec (2001) defined as the “four shocks” that followed one another and transfigured the traditional structure of the Mediterranean islands. And these themes allow us to observe, in the end, that Sardinia is neither outside history nor space (of the Mediterranean), but that it is simply nothing more than an island in the Mediterranean Sea.

The “demographic outflow” In certain contexts, this outflow can be interpreted as a haemorrhage, as a depopulation, which is usually connected to an excess of population followed by unemployment. Starting in the middle of the 19th century, this situation led to a veritable diaspora of islanders to the mainland, to the Americas, and elsewhere. In Sardinia, the phenomenon took place relatively late compared to the other islands, not least owing to its low population density. The phenomenon reached its highest peaks in the decades following the Second World War when, also due to the crisis in the mining sector, some half a million Sardinians emigrated, causing serious social, cultural and economic consequences, as can be imagined. How much did this forge the idea of Sardinia as a land of exile? Exile in the double sense of a place from which one was forced to depart, but also as a place to which criminals, political opponents, refugees or military personnel could be deported? And this has taken place since Roman times. We know quite well that even today mobility and migration are an important issue in all the Mediterranean. In Sardinia, in any case, the phenomenon of migration has changed, even though it has not come to a halt. In the last few years the migratory balance has become positive, 35 This is as stated by Reclus himself (1875, p. 580): “However, the major cause of the historical torpor into which Sardinia fell for so many centuries comes not from its nature, but from its people”. 36 For a deeper treatment of this subject, see Loi, 2006, 1999; and the essays contained in Loi and Quaini, 1999 (in particular on the 19th-century travel geographies: Incani Carta, 2006). On the deterministic representations of the Mediterranean Sea, see Semple, 1931.

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almost enough to stabilize a natural balance which, instead, is strongly negative.37

“The national construction” The inclusion of the islands in the process of nation-building led to (still according to Miossec): a strengthening of the urban poles and in particular that of the main cities (Cagliari in our case, which assumes the administrative functions of a small island capital38); the creation or improvement of infrastructures (roads, railways, ports, airports, dams, aqueducts and so on); and initiatives for an economic revival. Called “development” or “rebirth”, in Sardinia these initiatives became reclamation plans and operations (like those implemented under the fascist regime) and, in the post-war period, the setting up of the industrial poles with the construction of the so-called “cathedrals in the desert”. In any case, these policies did not bring about the expected results, but, on the contrary, they modified the productive fabric with the weakening of agriculture, the shift towards tertiary activities and the plethoric expansion of the public administration. On the other hand, as already mentioned, the “national tutelage” continues to be characterized by signs of restiveness, irritation or embarrassment. But in the Mediterranean, certainly for different reasons and in different ways, many are the large regions or cities that show antagonism towards their national governments: from the Rif (the Amazigh region of Morocco) to the Algerian Kabylia, to Catalonia, from Kosovo to Cyrenaica in the former case; from Naples to Marseilles, from Barcelona to Venice in the latter.

“The island for tourists” As Miossec pointed out, this is the revolution that has changed, for better or for worse, the destiny and aspect of so many Mediterranean islands. And Sardinia is no exception to this phenomenon: it has progressively become a privileged tourist destination, building its distinctive identity, both Sardinian and Mediterranean, on the grounds of 37

See Gentileschi, 1995 and the chapter by Silvia Aru in this volume. Inverting the previous 60 years’ positive trend, in 2014 (with 1.1 children per woman) Sardinia showed the lowest fecundity index among the NUTS II regions of the Mediterranean countries, being next-to-last in Italy, slightly above Liguria (Istat, 2015). 38 See the chapter by Maurizio Memoli in this volume.

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its potential for tourism. Begun in the 1950s with the public support of ESIT (the Sardinian tourist board), tourism developed in the 1960s with the creation of Costa Smeralda. In this case, rather than deterministic limitations, it is the “advantage of insularity”, “the favourable climate”, the beauty of the sea and beaches, the archaeological heritage and Sardinian folklore that are the elements on which the story of the island is based.39

The Link to Europe and Globalization For Sardinia, European integration has meant its classification as a Territorial Unit for Statistics (NUTS) of level II, with the consequent inclusion among the areas eligible to receive structural funds. With the progressive extension of the EU, Sardinia has gone from a “less developed region” of Objective 1 up to the 2000-2006 plan, to its present status as a phasing-out region (GNP between 75% and 90% of the 28-member EU’s regional average), which was confirmed for the period 2014-2020. But what does the Mediterranean mean for Sardinia as regards European integration and globalization? Still myth and geography? Paolo Rumiz, a writer, journalist and traveller, taking up the words of the archaeologist Piero Bartoloni, says that at the time of the Phoenicians-Carthaginians and Romans “the island was at the centre of everything”. “Rome stole Sardinia from Carthage (… because) the sea of Sardinia was the indispensable driving force of that developing dominion (…). If Africa is close, Carthage is even closer. Just a hundred and five miles, much closer than Sicily. (From the Sulcis region) aboard a trireme it would take me just a day and a night with the help of the northwest wind. At the Hannibal’s time, I would have immediately found a berth since traffic was continuous at that time. Today, there is nothing of the kind. Direct overseas passenger lines have disappeared: by plane, I first have to fly to Rome; by ferry I would have to go to Trapani, thus tripling the distance. These infamous “longcuts” are one of the gifts of globalization.” (Rumiz, 2008, pp. 23-24) 40

39 See Boggio, Pinna, 1984; Denti, 2012. See the chapter by Monica Iorio in this volume. 40 At present, from the three Sardinian commercial airports (Cagliari, Alghero and Olbia), except for the principal Italian mainland airports and some European ones, direct flights are available only to the following Mediterranean cities: Barcelona, Marseilles and Nice (and some destinations are only seasonal ones). Even passenger ferry destinations in the Mediterranean area are quite limited (Corsica,

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Today, the Mediterranean is present in several rhetorical and political initiatives. Here we can mention Euro-Mediterranean regional cooperation. Since 2007, the Autonomous Region of Sardinia has been in charge of the ENPI CBC Mediterranean Sea Basin Programme.41 This is undoubtedly a strategic role for the island: from a first glance we also see the important roles played by Sardinian institutions that participate as leaders or partners in the projects.42 This is the comment of the contemporary president of the region Francesco Pigliaru, as the EU confirmed that Sardinia was assigned the management of the ENPI programme, now the ENI CBC Med Programme, for the period 2014-2020: “Sardinia, owing to its natural position, is a perfect logistic platform for a dialogue between the two shores of the Mediterranean. It is a place of excellence for cooperation and planning.” 43

From another point of view, the academic research one, we can mention a series of more or less important congresses and publications on the relationship between Sardinia and the Mediterranean; many of these have an approach that is more historical, archaeological and anthropological than strictly geographic.44 In addition, the recent revival of academic Marseilles, suspended in March 2015), as is the cargo traffic in the basin (Valencia, Fos-sur-Mer, Tangiers, Lisbon). (see http://www.porto.cagliari.it/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=79 &Itemid=82&lang=it) Instead, as a consequence of the changes in the regimes of the countries in the southern Mediterranean Sea, as well as of their political instability, the calls of cruise ships in Cagliari are increasing (the European and extra-European ones are to be added to these destinations). 41 ENPI: European Neighbourhood and Partnership Instrument; CBC: CrossBorder-Cooperation. A European programme for transnational cooperation involving 7 EU member states and 7 partner countries of the southern coast of the Mediterranean Sea (Cyprus, Egypt, France, Greece, Israel, Italy, Jordan, Lebanon, Malta, the Palestinian Authority, Portugal, Spain, Syria, and Tunisia). 42 Of the 14 countries involved, the regions directly eligible (NUTS II) are 76, with a total of about 110 million inhabitants. In the 2007-2013 periods the ENMPI CBC, with funds amounting to 200 million euros, financed 95 projects. See Siddi, 2012; http://www.regione.sardegna.it/j/v/25?s=269928&v=2&c=6578&t=1. 43 http://www.ansamed.info/ansamed/it/notizie/rubriche/politica/2014/12/11/nextme d-da-enpi-a-enisardegna-ancora-guida-cooperazione-ue_6169b930-c200-43f6ba6d-3f8c15ce6c29.html. 44 This is not the proper site for a résumé of the scientific initiatives concerning Sardinia and the Mediterranean area, but as an example we can mention the series of 14 volumes entitled “La Sardegna nel Mondo Mediterraneo” (Sardinia in the Mediterranean World) published between 1981 and 2011 (Edizioni Gallizzi,

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cooperation is worth mentioning. In February 2015, the Banco di Sardegna Foundation, together with the Union of Mediterranean Universities (UNIMED), in cooperation with the Universities of Cagliari and Sassari, promoted a project with the emblematic title of “Sardegna Terra di Mezzo” (Sardinia, the Middle Land), to finance about a hundred grants for university students in the countries of the Maghreb. However, nowadays Sardinia, the Mediterranean and globalization, besides 42,000 new migrants, also imply the presence of a few thousand citizens of Mediterranean countries permanently settled here: about 5,000 Moroccans, about 600 Tunisians and 600 Albanians (UNAR Report 2014). Starting from the first years of the new century, there have also been dozens of landings of migrants coming from the shores of Algeria and Tunisia,45 almost recalling, after more than two millennia, the crossings evoked by Rumiz. Despite the claims of “Sardity” and the myth of the Shardana people, the oldest or more recent traces of the presence of populations from elsewhere are to be found in Sardinia, as in many other Mediterranean countries. Suffice it to recall only a few of the names of Spanish and Arab origins (mentioned in the books by the writer Sergio Atzeni), the presence of families of Piedmontese origin, the Catalan spoken in Alghero, the Corsican origin of the people of Gallura, the presence of Ligurians who from the island of Tabarka arrived on the island of San Pietro and in the town of Calasetta (where the dominant idiom is Carlofortino, originally a Ligurian dialect), the presence of people from the Veneto region in Arborea, the Italo-Tunisian pieds-noirs in Castiadas, or the Belgian origins of some families in Pula. Languages, cultures, traditions and even landscapes tare different, which de facto contradict and

Sassari, and Patron, Bologna), that deal with five international congresses of “geographic and historical studies” organized in Sassari over a twenty-year period (1978-1998), on the initiative of Manlio Brigaglia and Pasquale Brandis. Besides historical subjects, the main geographic themes were: tourism, agriculture and land use, the sea, environmental sustainability, health and economy. The year 2014 saw the publication, edited by G. Scanu, of Paesaggi, ambienti, culture, economie. La Sardegna nel Mondo Mediterraneo. Per ricordare Pasquale Brandis, Patron Bologna. In conclusion, we must mention the work by M. Pinna published by ISRE in 1995, Il Mediterraneo e la Sardegna nella Cartografia musulmana. 45 There are no reliable statistics on landings in Sardinia. Several landings were reported in the summers of 2013 and 2014 (see http://www.ilgiornaleditalia.org/news/cronaca/847686/I-clandestini-sbarcanoanche-in-Sardegna.html; http://www.lastampa.it/2014/06/10/italia/cronache/clandestini; See also footage of 2002 at the site http://www.2anglers.it/sbarco-clandestini.htm).

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complicate the myth and the idea of a distinctive autochthonous and granitic Sardinian identity. In conclusion, we wish to mention the official rhetoric and urban marketing initiatives concerning the Mediterranean with another slogan of a political and programmatic nature: that of “Cagliari, a Mediterranean’s capital”, launched by the former mayor of Cagliari Emilio Floris in the early years of the new century, in an attempt to raise the city to an international standing, but later forgotten. Nevertheless, the legacy of this slogan has survived in the name of the MeM, the new Mediateca del Mediterraneo, inaugurated in Cagliari in 2011. And in the wake of this, there is also the candidacy of Cagliari-Sardinia as a European Capital of Culture in 2019 (which was awarded to Matera), which represents a further element connected to Sardinia’s Mediterranean character.46 On this occasion, in 2014, and during the public exhibition of the archaeological findings bringing to light sculptures that probably date back to the 11th-10th centuries BC, known as the “Giganti di Mont’e Prama”, once again the idea that Cagliari “can become a point of reference in the Mediterranean basin” came to the fore in order to revive, although in a rather low key, the public debate on the project for the Museum of the Bètile, previously mentioned.47 It is on the basis of this kind of representation that the Autonomous Region of Sardinia continues to ground its advertising campaigns as a tourist destination (Figure 20.3). This is also the message that we find on an entire page of the magazine Venerdì di Repubblica of 13th March 2015: “Sardinia naturally. The giants of Mont’e Prama are the island’s mysterious ambassadors, the witnesses to an ancient land where myth and nature offer a life experience that is unique in the world. A holiday in Sardinia is an immersion in the history of the Mediterranean.”

As can be seen, once again we have a mixed geography including myth, nature, uniqueness, history and the Mediterranean Sea.

46

On this subject, see: Cattedra, Tanca, 2015. See also: www.cagliari-sardegna 2019.eu. 47 Dore & Secchi (“Sardegna Pulita” Movement) a question posed to the mayor and the municipal council (see: Lai, http://www.castedduonline.it, 27.03.2014).

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Figure 20.3. Sardegnaturismo advertising campaign (March 2015). Source: Regione Autonoma della Sardegna

References Aresu, Alessandro. “‘Pocos, locos y mal unidos’. I sardi temono l’altrui indifferenza”. Limes, QS 3, pp. 61-70, 2010. Atzeni, Franco. “Italia e Africa del Nord nell’Ottocento”Rime- Rivista dell’Istituto di storia dell’Europa Mediterranea, n. 6, pp. 785-810, june, 2011. Balta, Paul, and Claudine Rulleau. La Méditerranée. Berceau de l’avenir. Toulouse: Milan, 2006. Bandino, Bachisio. “Sardegna”, in: Sardegna, Atlas edizioni, “Collezione Regioni e città d’Italia”, pp. 5-9, 1983 Boggio, Francesco and Mario Pinna. “Il turismo in Sardegna”. In La Sardegna nel mondo mediterraneo, Atti del secondo convegno internazionale di studi storico-geografici, n. 3. Turismo, agricoltura e

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