Strays Amid the Ruins Set Off a Culture Clash
Elisabetta Povoledo
The New York Times, 9/11/20121
Elisabetta Povoledo
The New York Times, 9/11/20121
ROME
— Cats have prowled the streets of Rome since ancient times, more
recently finding refuge with an association of volunteers who have
lovingly tended to thousands of strays over the years amid the ruins of a
site where Brutus is thought to have stabbed Julius Caesar in 44 B.C.
The shelter, in an underground space abutting a cherished archaeological
site, consists of several bright, cage-lined rooms that hold dozens of
strays at a time and has gained fame — and donations — as a popular
tourist draw. But after a couple of decades of tolerated, if not quite
authorized, occupancy, Italy's state archaeologists have told the
association that it has to go, saying the illegal occupation risks
damaging a fragile ancient monument. The cat lovers issued a ready
reply: They have no intention of leaving. "If they want war, we'll give
them war," warned Silvia Viviani, a retired opera singer and one of the
founders of the Torre Argentina Cat Sanctuary association. "The cats
need us." What has ensued is a fight that has drawn in a host of city
officials, elicited a flood of e-mail from upset cat lovers and revealed
a deeper clash between tradition and legality that has tested Rome's
notions of its cultural heritage. The battle has pitted preservation
officials who struggle mightily to get Italians to obey laws protecting
their historic birthright against an especially feisty Roman breed of
cat caretakers — the so-called gattare. In the middle are the cats
themselves, ancient inhabitants of Rome who have been officially
declared "part of the city's bio-cultural patrimony," noted Monica
Cirinnà, a local lawmaker with the Democratic Party who created an
animal rights advocacy department when the center-left governed the
capital. Rome has countless cat colonies, usually cared for by
neighborhood gattare who leave plastic plates of cat nibbles in communal
courtyards or on sidewalks. Then there are more organized volunteer
associations for larger colonies of feral cats, some in archaeological
sites, including one at the Pyramid of Cestius, from the first century
B.C., and another at Trajan's Market, where gattare have been given a
room within the ancient area. But they have official authorization. The
cat shelter does not, say the state archaeology officials, who are
trying to close it two years after it made the apparently fatal mistake
of applying for a permit to install a toilet. That put the shelter on
the officials' radar, and they now insist it has to go even though —
with just basic equipment like cages, medical cabinets, ramshackle
furniture and garbage bins — it is far better organized than the others.
The underground shelter, which cares for 150 to 180 cats at a time, is
near the Area Sacra of Largo Argentina, a downtown archaeological site
consisting of four Republican-era temples. Situated in a squat space
created during the time of Mussolini, when a street was built over the
site, the shelter sits directly above the remains of the travertine
podium of what archaeologists identify as Temple D, a structure from the
second century B.C. "The cat ladies are occupying one of the most
important sites in Largo Argentina, and that is incompatible with the
preservation of the monument," said Fedora Filippi, the Culture Ministry
archaeologist responsible for the area. The shelter has invited
corollary problems, she noted, such as the tourists' throwing food to
the cats that wander from the shelter into the adjacent archaeological
area, "which makes the situation worse." After an inspection, health
officials decreed the shelter an inappropriate environment for
volunteers and visiting tourists, let alone for the cats, she said.
"This isn't about the cats," Ms. Filippi said, adding wearily that her
computer had been inundated with angry e-mails from cat lovers. "I
wouldn't touch a cat. I live with one so I am not against cats." But,
she said, "it's our responsibility to protect Italy's archaeological
patrimony and to apply the law." Discussions have been under way for two
years to find another solution for the cat shelter, she said. So far
they have been fruitless, and unless an alternative is found soon, the
cat association will be forcibly evicted. The cat lovers — all
volunteers — bristle that they are not bothering anyone. The shelter,
they say, occupies a former storage space. More important, they claim to
have neutered and spayed close to 29,000 cats over the past 20 years,
all paid for by an estimated 10,000 benefactors. Without the shelter,
Rome's already overtaxed veterinary department would be forced to deal
with hundreds, potentially thousands, of new strays, they argue. That
public service has been tacitly acknowledged by decades of municipal
administrations, which have allowed the shelter to expand and modernize
over the years. "In the past, the situation may not have been approved,
but it was tolerated," said Ms. Viviani, who wishes that the situation
would return "to the silence and inertia of always so that we can be
left alone." Moving the colony to a less-frequented area is not an
option, the volunteers say. The association needs to be in a visible
place for tourists, who come from around the world to visit and give
donations. It also needs a physical space to house cages for sick cats,
and to store food and other supplies. Last week, Rome's mayor, Gianni
Alemanno, who is up for re-election next year, weighed in on Twitter
that he and his cat, Certosino, "are on the side of the cats of Rome.
Anyone who touches them will be in trouble." ("Cats may not vote," Ms.
Viviani observed, "but cat people do.") Umberto Broccoli, Rome's
superintendent for culture, acknowledged that the situation was
delicate. "The cats of Rome are by definition as ancient as the marble
capitals they lounge on," he said. "We have to find a solution that
balances the care of Rome's historical archaeological heritage with a
historical, social practice that has its own tradition." Then cats have
their own habits. "They don't read bans," he said. "They will return to
Largo Argentina" whether the shelter is there or not, and gattare and
tourists will continue to throw food at them. "The situation is really
not so simple".