I’M sure, like me, that you have a keen interest in Italian politics. So I’m certain that you’ll have seen the wonderful film Il Divo which tells the extraordinary story of Giulio Andreotti, seven-time prime minister of the country.

During his long career, the Christian Democrat earned the nickname Beelzebub because of his alleged links to the Mafia.

In one of the many stunning scenes in Il Divo, Andreotti is questioned at length by a journalist about his shady connections.

The reporter reels off a huge list of allegations against the Prime Minister and concludes that only two explanations are possible – either he is the most cunning of criminals to have never been caught or he is the most persecuted man in the history of Italy.

A similar conclusion could be reached about Sir Jimmy Savile after the revelations of the past 10 days.

A string of women have come forward in the last week to allege that the late DJ sexually assaulted them when they were teenagers.

Sir Jimmy, like Giulio, was either a devious criminal or the victim of a massive conspiracy to besmirch his name.

But unlike the former Italian Prime Minister – who will blow out 94 candles on his birthday cake in three months’ time – Sir Jimmy is no longer around to defend himself.

You can’t libel the dead, so theoretically I’m free to say whatever I like about Leeds’ most famous son.

Like most people, I was vaguely aware of the rumours about Sir Jimmy’s behaviour while he was still with us.

As such, I was surprised that so many parts of the media marked his passing with what I like to call the Full Diana – hushed tones, trembling bottom lip, thou-shalt-mourn rhetoric.

Let’s just hold off, I thought at the time, from renaming Leeds-Bradford Airport after the ‘much-loved’ DJ and charity fundraiser for a few years. History might give us a wee bit of perspective.

And so it has come to pass, almost exactly a year after Sir Jimmy’s death.

Those who just two weeks ago were proud of their association with him are now running for cover. His name was removed from the roll of honour at Leeds Civic Hall on Monday, while Scarborough Council decided that renaming a footpath Savile’s View had not been such a good idea after all.

It’s hard not to feel sorry for the decent people who run the Jimmy Savile Charitable Trust as they struggle to cope with a name which overnight has become the punchline to a Frankie Boyle joke.

The allegations against the late DJ have featured in every newspaper and bulletin since the story broke last weekend.

Why this reaction? How do we explain the blanket coverage of the alleged behaviour of a dead TV presenter?

I think it’s a generational thing. For those of us who were children in the 1970s and 1980s, he was a big star – presenter of Top of the Pops and Jim’ll Fix It.

Sir Jimmy was a presence in our lives, a sort of eccentric uncle figure, but of the loveable rather than loathable kind. Or so we thought.

In the last 10 days, those of us now in our 30s and 40s have come to feel that our childhood memories have been violated.

Sir Jimmy’s career path looks rather different in the light of these allegations.

Did he take on Top of the Pops because he loved music and Jim’ll Fix It because he wanted to help children? Or did he jump at the chance to host both shows because they offered him ready access to under-age girls? It’s an unsettling question.

Sir Jimmy was either a paedophile – and a cunning one at that – or he has just become the most persecuted man in British history.

I think we all know which of those two options is more likely.

Police probe Savile – Page 8