Prior to embarking with my wife for a hugely enjoyable long weekend in Venice recently, I made a point of brushing down a few old history books to familiarise myself with the city's remarkable history.

Venice has a fascinating tale to tell, particularly during the 13th and 14th centuries when Marco Polo opened up trade routes with the Far East, contributing massively to the city's political and commercial standing.

But as money poured into Venice and evidence of colossal wealth was converted into sumptuous palaces fronting the Grand Canal, so the machinations of the Doge's administrative apparatus, situated in the magnificent structure overlooking St Mark's Square, became ever more intriguing. Think Machiavelli meets Versace and you get the picture.

Which brings me seamlessly on to Vodafone.

Vodafone's Berkshire headquarters may be slightly less ostentatious than Venice's fabulous Ca' d'Oro (the House of Gold), but the attempted power plays currently taking place at Voda' bear a striking resemblance to those of 15th century Venice.

Amateur historians will recall this was the period when the republic fell into decline following a relentless spate of political back-stabbing, chicanery and secret pacts.

Long a darling of investors, day traders (due to its often incredibly volatile share price) and lovers of a swashbuckling approach to business, Vodafone and its chief executive Arun Sarin suddenly appear to be under enormous pressure.

Despite a slick PR machine anxious to keep arguments in-house, it is clear the company's recent £28bn write-down of its German business resulted in what one analyst called a seismic boardroom shift.' For a short period, Vodafone appeared to partially appease its investors of which I'm one with the welcome news that its underperforming Japanese mobile phone business was being sold to that country's SoftBank.

This promised a substantial dividend payout, although before investors had the chance to feel relieved came the news that Lord MacLaurin of Knebworth had been urged by a number of non-executive directors to stand down as Vodafone's chairman before the company's AGM in July.

Apparently, the non-execs felt that the sooner HSBC chairman John Bond is ensconced as Vodafone's figurehead, the sooner the company could address a number of key strategic issues.

Yet what followed was even more potentially damaging to Vodafone's investors news that SoftBank was going cool on the prospect of paying £10bn for the Japanese business and probably a further £1bn to boost the company's 3G infrastructure.

Then, when Sir Chris Gent, the man responsible for Vodafone's astonishing growth, opted to sever all ties with Voda, one really did begin to wonder whether the nameplate outside of Sarin's office had been changed to Doge'.

Most investors believe that if Sarin fails to capitalise on Vodafone's Japanese business, he could soon be staring at a hastily-prepared P45. But let's assume he does, albeit for less than £10bn.

I suspect Sarin has decided Vodafone's empire has grown too unwieldy and certain parts need to be sacrificed so it can concentrate on its core European markets in the UK, Germany, Italy and Spain, although such a strategy is incredibly risky.

Asset sales would seriously weaken Voda's balance sheet and leave it open to unwelcome predators, particularly those generous guys who operate private equity groups.

The similarity between Voda and Venice's historic fortunes is obvious. For centuries, the city state performed heroically, becoming richer by being fleet-footed and through aggressive deal-making and trading.

For 20 years, Vodafone has done the same, but like Venice, it may be forced to retreat and accept that it is unable to leave a truly global footprint.

In the long term, such a strategy proved Venice's saving and it may just prove Vodafone's and Sarin's too.