Sale of the Century.

It's a developer's dream: 20,000 square meters of premium property in the heart of Rome. Simply convert the Colosseum into a colossal shopping mall. (Need parking? Raze the ruinous Roman Forum nearby.) And why stop at the capital? A spectacular theme park and resort could go up on the island of Elba. Hundreds of kilometers of pristine Mediterranean beaches could house retirement communities or tourist havens. Imagine the possibilities...

The Colosseum may never go on the auction block, but a government plan to raise cash has alarmed preservationists. Strapped for euros and fending off critics who say it doesn't adequately care for the country's cultural treasures, the Italian government is considering a novel solution: sell them off.

Of course, officially, it sounds better than that. Ministers speak of "privatization," the policy of transferring state-owned money-losing assets to entrepreneurs who presumably can manage them more efficiently and turn a profit. Properties that can't be sold entirely, the thinking goes, could be leased out to corporations that will handle concessions and maintenance.

Not surprisingly, the very idea has touched off a tempest of protest. The first big drive comes next week, when Italy's leading environmental group, Legambiente, launches its big campaign, "Italy is not for sale," with nationwide marches. The group has cleverly spoofed bills of sale. The Colosseum is advertised as having a "renovated, independent entrance with lots of light." The Greek temples in Sicily tout "sea views and private beaches."

Selling off some high-maintenance property would solve a lot of problems for Italy. The country has more UNESCO World Heritage sites than any other, save Spain. But a study released in November accused Italians of blatant neglect. Pollution in city centers like Naples, Rome and Florence tops the list of offenses. "Cementification" threatens to bury Pompeii in new construction. And then there are the famous floods of Venice. Italian governments have long been stingy with funding for cultural preservation--it's no surprise, given the country's [currency]16.6 billion deficit and [currency]1.33 billion public debt. But meanwhile, Italy owns about [currency]2 trillion worth of property, and it doesn't take a Donald Trump to put the two together. Indeed, the driving force for the cash-raising scheme comes from Italy's richest man: tycoon turned Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. In May 2001, he made a campaign promise to renovate Italy's problem areas at a cost of more than [currency]126 ...