The Italian republic is 70 years old, like the Vegas Strip and Donald J. Trump — and just as unpredictable.
In 1946 the Italians, in a passionate referendum, got rid of the monarchy. In 2016, again after a record turnout — 69 percent — their children and grandchildren fired Prime Minister Matteo Renzi, 41, and his government, the 63rd in those 70 years. Almost 60 percent of voters rejected the radical changes Mr. Renzi had proposed to the Constitution, which were largely aimed at streamlining the Italian government to make way for deep economic reforms.
Italy’s youngest-ever prime minister spoke just after midnight, his wife, Agnese, at his side. “I didn’t think they hated me so much,” he said tearfully.
Mr. Renzi burst onto the European stage three years ago, heralded as a new kind of Italian leader. But now his usual Tuscan braggadocio was gone; he seemed, all a sudden, like a grown-up Boy Scout who had done his best, and failed.
His mistake? Pledging, so early in the campaign, to resign if the reforms were rejected. Immediately it became a referendum on him. His opponents — the protest Five Star party, the anti-immigrant Northern League, Silvio Berlusconi and his old cronies on the center right, the überpopulist Fratelli d’Italia and the left flank of his own Democratic Party — all loved the drama of it. And so did the public: one against the rest! But politics is not an action movie. In real life the one generally loses. And he lost. Big time.
Here and abroad, columnists are dashing off dark warnings about the impending collapse of the euro, and maybe the European Union. After Brexit, Rexit! crow his opponents.
Not true. David Cameron didn’t have to call a referendum. But Mr. Renzi had no choice; in Italy, constitutional reforms must gain final approval from the people. This wasn’t an extraordinary event. In any other moment, it would have passed almost unremarked, as the demise of one more Italian government in a long string of them.
Moreover, in Britain, broadly speaking, older voters chose to leave the European Union, while the young voted to stay. In Italy, it’s the other way around. The young turned their backs on Mr. Renzi. It was not, as in Britain, a nostalgic vote; young Italians don’t want to return to a past they’ve never had.
They are angry about enormous youth unemployment. They hate begging for poorly paid temporary jobs — with an average monthly salary of 1,200 euros, or $1,300 — not enough to let them plan for the future. It’s no coincidence that affluent Milan is among the few large cities that voted “yes” (so did Bologna and Florence, Mr. Renzi’s hometown). All the others — from Rome to Turin, from Naples to Palermo, from Genoa to Bari — voted “no.” For all his talk about moving Italy into gear, Mr. Renzi forgot the key Clintonian lesson: “It’s the economy, stupid.” If the referendum had a larger meaning, it was a vote on Mr. Renzi’s place in Italian politics, not on Italy’s place in Europe.
Will the next government fix all this? Most unlikely. Youth unemployment and the chronically bad economic conditions of Southern Italy — which voted overwhelmingly against Mr. Renzi — need stronger leadership. The next government, most likely a caretaker until the next elections, will not provide that.
And who will lead that government? President Sergio Mattarella will appoint someone soon, but what will he or she do? Pass the budget; welcome European dignitaries in March for the 60th anniversary of the Treaty of Rome, which instituted the European Union in the first place; host the Group of 7 summit in Taormina, Sicily, in June. Who will support such a government? Probably only the ruling Democratic Party and, most likely, Silvio Berlusconi. Both know that, in the event of a snap election, they’d be wiped out by the populists.
Is Mr. Renzi’s tearful demise another bump after Mr. Trump, then? Not really. Mr. Trump’s victory was unexpected; Mr. Renzi’s defeat was entirely predictable. And Italy is not showing signs of post-traumatic stress, like America. The next prime minister will not be Beppe Grillo, the maverick populist (and admirer of Mr. Trump), nor as colorful, nor as lively. After the tumultuous 1,000 days of Mr. Renzi — who proposed a lot, accomplished a little and left few stones unturned — Italy wants to be quiet for a while.
That’s the problem, though. In restless times, relaxing is not an option. Italy is a G-7 country, as well as a founding member and one of the three remaining pillars of the European Union. Europe is shaking and the world is racing — though no one knows exactly where to. And if one wishes to help steer, one needs to sit in the front.
“Buona fortuna a noi tutti” — “Good luck to us all,” Mr. Renzi said at the end of his final news conference. But Italy will need a great deal more than luck this time.
Beppe Severgnini is a columnist for Corriere della Sera, the author of La Bella Figura: A Field Guide to the Italian Mind and a contributing opinion writer.