Environment: Venice Preserved

Venice—the magical city that Italians call "most serene"—has long been in deep trouble (TIME, Oct. 10). Pollution clouds the water in its intricate network of 160 canals. Its marvelous, airy buildings are crumbling. Worst of all, the entire city is gradually sinking into the Adriatic Sea. Can Venice be saved? For 27 months, the Italian Parliament debated, squabbled and compromised. But now, finally, it has taken firm action, passing a law that states: "The safeguarding of Venice and of its lagoon is declared to be a problem of pre-eminent national interest."

What held up the legislation for so long is the complexities rising from the fact that Venice is not one but three different cities. There is the historic town built on 118 alluvial islands in a lagoon, plus two other communities on the mainland: the bleak, modern residential suburb of Mestre, which the daily Corriere della Sera calls a "delirium of concrete," and the huge, fume-filled industrial port of Marghera. Any action to help Venice often turns out to harm her ugly sisters. For example, Venice is sinking in part because the pumping of fresh water from artesian wells in Mestre and Marghera depletes the underground "cushion" of water on which Venice floats. If the pumping is stopped to save Venice, Mestre and Marghera will go thirsty.

To deal with this kind of dilemma, the lawmakers have ordered that the area's new regional government draw up a comprehensive plan of needed action. But the law goes further than that. For the first time, the Parliament has acted to provide the essential ingredient for rescuing Venice—$510 million over the next five years. Some of the funds will go for new aqueducts to bring fresh water from inland rivers to the cities. After the aqueducts are built, the underground pumping will stop.

Even more significant, $158 million of the funds have been designated for preserving Venice's lagoon and its surrounding marshland. These mud flats act as giant sponges which soak up high tide waters that flood the sinking city with deplorable frequency. In 1971, for instance, Venice's streets were inundated about 200 times.

Trouble is, Marghera is partly built on the mud flats, and the city earmarked another 10,000 acres of adjacent marshlands for new factories. By banning any further municipal intrusion into the marshes—including proposed landfill projects in Mestre—the new law will severely limit the growth of both cities. Indeed, Marghera's importance is bound to wane—probably with adverse economic effect on Venice. "If you take away the industrial sector," warns Critic Vladimiro Dorigo, "it means killing the whole place."

There is a possible compromise. Manmade locks might be built to control the dangerous high tides. Stretching across the three natural openings between Venice's lagoon and the Adriatic, the locks would open to let ships reach Marghera and would close to prevent Venice from being swamped in tidal water. That would allow further building on the mud flats—if the state decides to spend some $80 million on the locks.