Recent Italian Historiography On Italian Fascism: Danilo Breschi
Recent Italian Historiography On Italian Fascism: Danilo Breschi
Recent Italian Historiography On Italian Fascism: Danilo Breschi
Danilo Breschi
period, and to stimulate new discussion concerning new foundations for the
Italian Republic. He presented himself as a liberal intellectual, intervening
in favor of rethinking the ideals and the historical basis of the political sys-
tem in which he was living, for he was sensing the exhaustion of anti-fas-
cism, as well as the validity of some of its very premises. Before the fall of
the Berlin Wall, he was anticipating the degree to which the foundations
upon which the Italian Republic had been constructed had weakened —
foundations that had been built on unresolved political and social cleavages.
According to De Felice, the moment was mature for a complete
democratization of the Italian political system, still encumbered by the
remnants of fascist statism and based on the dated logic of civil war. Emilo
Gentile, a historian of the De Felice “school” and the author of a critical,
biographical outline of his “teacher,” recalled the climate in which the Ital-
ian debate on fascism took place: [T]he communism-anticommunism
schema has waned considerably. For this reason as well, all the flaws in the
structure of the Constitution have emerged. It is also understandable that
the other great alternative, fascism/anti-fascism, also has fallen. It no longer
has meaning in the public consciousness or in the reality of everyday polit-
ical conflicts. Our Constitution gets stuck if it rests on dubious dogma.5
From the mid-1970s until De Felice’s death, all polemics related to his
name provoked Italian historians and journalists to divide into two camps
— “De Felicians” and “anti-De Felicians” — with arguments that fre-
quently had little or nothing to do with the real content of his work or the
significance of his interpretations. More often than not, the polemics
degenerated into hostility toward De Felice. Several times, at the Univer-
sity of Rome, De Felice became a target of intimidating protests from
groups of students who sought to prevent him from teaching. A few
months before his death, someone threw two molotov cocktails at his
house.6 As Gentile observed:
restricted to a sort of inner exile. This sort of image would flies is the
face of the loud and rising popularity of the “personality,” with the edito-
rial success of his books, with the resonance that the various “De Felice
affairs” had in diverse circles, with De Felice’s regular presence in the
press and on television inside and outside Italy.7
With regard to the fascist period, it is important to add that, after the
fall of the Berlin Wall, it became important for the Italian communist Left
to revise the recent past, which had suddenly become uncomfortable and
embarrassing.12 A decisive role also was played by the post-fascist, if not
anti-fascist evolution (more accurately, an anti-fascist, anti-communism)
of the Italian political Right, which began at the Fiuggi Conference held
in early 1995 and symbolically concluded with a declaration of Alleanze
Nazionale leader Gianfranco Fini during his trip to Israel in late Novem-
ber, 2003. On that occasion, anti-Semitism and the horrors of the Holo-
caust, an “absolute evil,” were condemned, and fascism (including the
Italian Social Republic) was repudiated for its contribution to the violence
and the persecutions that tormented the first half of the 20th century.13
In a somewhat opposite, uncharacteristic process, the neo-fascist
Right and the communist Left quickly abandoned their extreme wings
within the Italian political system. Incidentally, this “extremism,” or bet-
ter yet, “radicalism,” had long been effectively abandoned by the neo-fas-
cist MSI and the communist PCI with respect to parliamentary and
administrative policy, but remained important symbolically for the pur-
poses of identity and mobilization — issues central to any political party
appealing to a mass constituency. Beyond his immediate political calcula-
tions and motivations, Fini’s most recent declarations about the Holocaust
and fascism have largely decentered the politics and polemics of the past
(which certainly does not suggest remaining ignorant or indifferent to the
values of freedom and democracy).
Since its beginning, fascism has elicited questions regarding the type
of dictatorship Mussolini and his black shirts incarnated: was it a case of
simple conservatism with a heavy dose of authoritarianism, a counter-
revolutionary reaction to the “two-year communist period” and the fear of
a wave of Bolshevism, or was it the first form of totalitarianism, which
would leave an indelible and traumatic mark on 20th century Europe? In
12. For an interesting account of the last years of the PCI and its transformation into
the PDS, see Massimo de Angelis, Post. Confessioni di un ex communista (Milan: Guerini,
2003). De Angelis served as the head of public relations and worked closely with the PCI
secretary Achille Occhetto.
13. After his return from Israel, Fini gave this reply to criticism coming from within
his party: “And if the Holocaust represented absolute evil, that applies as well to the acts of
fascism that contributed to the Holocaust. We know that the complex history of fascism
has many other moments too, but if we wish those to be recognized by all Italians without
the usual accusations of historical revisionism, it is indispensable for us to be intransigent
in denouncing the misdeeds and the tragedies.” See Secolo d’Italia (November, 28, 2003).
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 21
1. aspire to shape the entire population into one national, organic com-
munity whose state is the expression of political priority;
2. celebrate national identity and promise to rekindle the traditions which
are the foundations that guarantee a glorious future for the country;
3. combat parliamentary democracy founded on party pluralism, which
would divide the population;
4. aim to uproot conflict between classes — a concept counterpoised to a
cooperative or collaborative system based on collective solidarity;
5. accept and promote violence as an instrument of legitimate political
action when necessary to defend national interests;
6. affirm the primacy of politics over the economy with the intention of
placing capital and private property at the service of the community to
meet productivist aims;
7. defend the concept of a world which opposes spirituality to material-
ism, exalting the role of elites and charismatic personalities who put
themselves in the service of the national community;
8. are determined to establish a single-party regime directed toward
integrating, educating, and mobilizing the population in order to build a
new social and cultural order, under the guidance of a leader.24
from the first months after its seizure of power, even in the structure given
to a party that soon would have to face a civil war.
The possibility remains open for an expansion and deformation of
the totalitarian category, as with all ideal types, even those constructed
according to the teachings and rigorous methodology of Max Weber. As
an ideal concept created by assembling diverse historical elements and
patterns, it could be based as well on a different selection or a different
interpretation of the same elements, thus modifying the contents con-
noted by the category. One could then arrive at formulations of a totali-
tarian type that might eliminate National Socialism, rather than Italian
fascism or Soviet Communism, or even exclude all three in favor of
including Maoist China or who knows what other classification. This is
a risk inherent in putting too much faith into amalgamated categories
and generalized criteria when attempting to describe individual phenom-
ena limited in time and space.
A final risk that is hidden in the systematic use of the totalitarian cat-
egory, even when its significance is opportunistically limited, is revealed
in German historiography on National Socialism. Authors of the caliber
of Martin Broszat and Norbert Frei, for example, sought to specifically
highlight the relationships established with German civil society during
the 1930s. In this regard, it is interesting to note how the historical and
even moral phenomena studied by Frei are analogous to those pursued by
Gentile in his study of Italian fascism, yet Frei takes a position on the use
of the totalitarian category diametrically opposed to that of Gentile:
“First of all, I would like to emphasize that the nature of the Nazi Weltan-
schauung is unequivocally and indisputably totalitarianism, as is the
ambition of the Nazi regime. In an analysis of Nazi ideology, it is there-
fore impossible not to use the concept of totalitarianism. However, if one
wishes to understand the internal development of the regime, as internal
politics — the daily life of the population, the culture, how industrial civ-
ilization in those years continued to unfold — then one could do very
well without the concept. To describe the internal development of soci-
ety, the concept of totalitarianism is not only unnecessary, it is almost
useless, if not truly irrelevant.”27
Indeed, the use (becoming an abuse) of the concept of totalitarianism
has favored a tendency that undermines a sense of responsibility in Ger-
man public opinion during the postwar period. What is more, according to
27. Norbert Frei, “Germania: i conti col passato,” interview with Stefano Eleuteri in
MondOperaio (May 1992), pp. 25-26.
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 29
Frei, taking into account the debate over “collective guilt” that had
marked the 1940s and 1950s, the theory of totalitarianism lessened a
sense of individual culpability for what had happened under National
Socialism. Applied to the Nazi phenomenon, the systematic recourse to
the category of totalitarianism resulted in a distorted misunderstanding of
history, analogous, in some ways, to that produced by Gentile with
respect to fascist Italy. In Germany, at least for a while, attention became
focused on the state and on the Nazi Party — its apparatus and its ideol-
ogy — thereby minimizing mass adherence to the regime and other ques-
tions that are at the center of Gentile’s concerns.
Gentile is well-aware of these risks and difficulties. His third chapter
rests on two basic assumptions. The first affirms that “a totalitarian political
system functions like a laboratory experimenting with an ‘anthropological
revolution’ trying to create a new kind of human being.” The second
reminds us that “the history of the totalitarian fascist experiment is a history
of continuous tension, resistance, and conflicts in institutions, in society, in
the collective conscious, and in fascism itself.” The tenth chapter develops
the first assumption, but the entire volume oscillates between the two affir-
mations, whereby one represents apparently a limitation, if not a refutation
of the other. Perhaps a solution to the contradiction might rest with the fol-
lowing formulation: fascism first is a movement, then a dictatorial mass
regime aimed at the totalitarian conquest of the state and of society. How-
ever, historically it was, in fact, an “authoritarian compromise” depicted
best by Massimo Legnani. In reality, “authoritative compromise” and
“totalitarian hypotheses” do not necessarily lie in a continuous line. They
are often forced to cohabit: the first one tends to neutralize the second, and
the path toward totalitarianization, which is mostly incomplete, and will
introduce strong tension in this “compromise.” Tension, not fractures.28
This appears to be the final interpretive outcome of Emilo Gentile’s 30
years of research, stimulatingly summarized in his book on the history and
interpretation of fascism. Alberto De Bernardi arrives at a substantially
similar conclusion. Recapitulating five key criteria which identify totali-
tarian regimes, De Bernardi too is conscious of the great ambition of Mus-
solini and many of his leaders. “Fascism aimed to construct and represent
itself as a totalitarian regime, as a new form of State organization in which
every aspect of life is under the control of the party-state which would
realize itself with the complete integration of the State and society.” How-
ever much one might have aspired toward a realization of this desiderata
on the part of fascist leadership, a separate assessment must be made
regarding the policies actually put into practice at the national and local
levels, as well as their impact on society. De Bernardi’s research here
leads him to question the heuristic and explanatory limits of the totalitarian
paradigm: “It is true, however, that when this model is compared to the
concrete historical features of Italian fascism, something is missing. Not-
withstanding the will of the Duce and fascist leadership to realize their
totalitarian project, the fascist regime never actually succeeded in com-
pletely overcoming all the institutional, political, and social compromises
upon which Mussolini’s personal dictatorship was founded. As numerous
scholars have noted, the presence of a monarchy and a Constitution —
from which the very legitimacy of Mussolini’s government derived, and
not only in formal terms — actually facilitated the permanence of power
indispensable to monocratic control, pre-existing elements which fused
and intertwined with the new system of power created by the regime.”
The result was therefore more of a “polycratic” system than a “mono-
cratic” one, imposing upon citizens a dual fidelity — to the King and to the
Duce — in stark contrast with a totalitarian system, where the singularity
of political command is paradigmatic. This was a problem as well within
the intimate circle of fascist leadership, since many of them retained a pro-
found attachment to the crown, which contrasted with the “iron unity” sur-
rounding the Duce.29 Moreover, one cannot be even certain about
Mussolini’s totalitarian “vocation.” His totalitarianism favored some, not
all, of the main distinctive characteristics of the ideal typical model, i.e.,
the charismatic head and related cult of personality, and the single militia
party. In other words, Mussolini’s dream of totalitarian fascism resembled
a modern form of “caesarism” — a new form of tyranny ready for the chal-
lenge of a society characterized by masses in a state of anxiety, yearning
for that political, economic, and social mobility seen partially as a reality
and partially as a revolutionary promise during and above all after WWI.
It would be interesting to examine the totalitarian intent inherent in the
anti-Semitic campaign of 1938, and how independent and specific it
might have been with respect to the characteristically racist politics of
Nazi Germany, already by this point an influential ally. Michael A.
Ledeen recently highlighted this aspect of Mussolini’s mentality: “The
29. Alberto De Bernardi, Una dittature moderna (Milan: Mondadori, 2001), pp.74-
76.
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 31
30. M.A. Ledeen “Il fascismo e la nazionalizzazione della masse: dal consenso all
politica razziale,” in Annali della Fondazione Ugo Spirito (1998), p. 264.
31. De Felice, Mussolini il duce. I. Gli anni del consenso 1929-36, p. 3.
32 DANILO BRESCHI
why he uses the term “fascist Left,” rather than the more conventional
“fascism of the Left.” It is less an examination of the Left within Musso-
lini’s movement than one which looks at a distinct group that, so to
speak, was in Fascism but not of Fascism.
The main hypothesis of Parlato’s book is that a Left existed in Italian
fascism, but it was neither a “party within a party” or a “current” structured
organizationally or ideologically by the PNF nor could it be understood as
simply one of the “souls” of the complex fascist movement. Instead, it was
an ideological orientation that, not fully articulated or fully self-conscious
in the men who embodied it, nevertheless formed a distinct “category” of
the Italian Left. As Parlato asserts, the fascist Left, by the end of the
regime, had acquired “a diffuse awareness . . . of being heirs to another
category, that of ‘the Italian national Left,’ which began with Garibaldi,
Mazzini, and Pisacane, and then headed toward a non-international form
of socialism, then went on to revolutionary syndicalism. Fusing class and
nation, it inserted itself, not without difficulties and frustrations, within the
fascist stream.” Evidently, this presents “a line which does not begin with
fascism, but mixes with fascism in the certainty that Mussolini’s move-
ment could realize the historical aspirations of a democratic and progres-
sive movement, purified of Marxism.” The history of this Left did not end
on July 25, 1943 or April 25, 1945, but continued afterwards as a current
within the neo-Fascist MSI, and also in the margins, and in some individ-
ual cases, at the core of the socialist and communist Left. This thesis is
undoubtedly original, stimulating, and, in the eyes of many, even provoca-
tive. Before addressing to whom this “provocation” might be directed, let
us consider the validity of the concept of the “fascist Left.”
Parlato is certainly aware of the extreme vagueness and elasticity of
the categories “Left” and “Right,” especially with reference to the political
culture of the 19th and early 20th century. In Italy, the counterpoising of
social and political forces of the so-called belle époque was based on dif-
ferent interpretations of the recent past, especially the significance of
national unification, as well as to different hopes for the imminent future
of the young nation. The steady growth of workers’ organizations and the
socialist party produced a political cleavage around the social question,
pitting the armed bourgeoisie against the armed proletariat. On top of the
social question, however, was overlaid the national question, even before
the outbreak of the WWI, which would obviously dramatize the latter,
reversing the terms of political discourse. Revolution or conservation:
these were the alternatives that monopolized not only political conflict, but
34 DANILO BRESCHI
also historiographical disputes during the first 20 years of the 20th century.
Perhaps most importantly, it became a way of interpreting the Risorgi-
mento, as well as the positive and negative myths built around it. Many
authors, such as Alfredo Oriani, Piero Gobetti, Dino Grandi, and Angelo
Oliviero Olivetti, wrote about the brief history of united Italy. It is at this
very point where the division begins on different ways of interpreting the
unification process, different judgments made about its protagonists, and
especially different ways of embracing a future for the nation. One became
a revolutionary or a conservative, even in the way recent history was read.
Nationalists and socialists placed themselves among the “revolutionaries,”
but among the “conservatives” there were also socialists, and in numbers
no smaller than the liberals.
Parlato’s book, in large measure, questions the standard historical
reading of an “Italian ideology,” especially in its most recent version, i.e.,
that of Ernesto Galli della Loggia who, through the person of Oriani, reads
into the idea of a Risorgimento “a series of petty-bourgeois, anti-worker
myths and dispositions.”35 There exists a Risorgimento “mythography”
different from the one Gentile constructed on a “spiritualist” reading of
Mazzini and Gioberti’s ideas — the one on which fascism would seek to
legitimize itself. This particular interpretation was advanced within the
world of revolutionary syndicalism, which held that there was a Risorgi-
mento popolare that had been defeated by a Risorgimento borghese.
Mazzini and Gioberti, Pisacane and Cavour should not be thrown together
in an ecumenical parterre of “prophets” of independence and “fathers” of
a united Italy. The recourse to Mazzini and to mazzinianesmo is funda-
mental to construction of a historical and political identity on the part of
the fascist Left. The question to ask is whether this operation was success-
ful and, above all, self-consciously produced by its protagonists.
The problem here concerns grounding a concept such as that of the “fas-
cist Left.” First, it is important to identify those who actually recognized
themselves in this way, as opposed to those who are inserted into this cate-
gory by others. Here, one should add a chronological criterion, and try to
identify the subjects in question before, during and after the fascist experi-
ence. What becomes clear is that revolutionary syndicalists and anarco-syn-
dicalists filled the ranks of the fascist Left between the end of WWI and the
end of the 1920s. Then there emerged a second generation of syndicalists
that confronted them with a new myth nourished by the regime: corporatism.
35. Ernesto Galli Della Loggia, “Le lontane origini dell’ideolgia italiana,” in Nuova
Storia Contemporanea 6 (Nov.-Dec. 1999), p. 15.
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 35
After the first half of the 1930s, centered around the syndicalist/corporativ-
ism debate, a third generation of young university students and syndical
leaders emerged, who held secondary or marginal positions. Among these,
quite a few migrated toward communism, satisfying the thirst for a Weltan-
schauung that fascism had provoked, but could not satisfy. On this matter, it
is instructive to carefully consider the chapter “Labor as Myth and Ideol-
ogy,” which underscores the envy and desire for emulation, as well as the
competition with communism and Marxist doctrine, i.e., sentiments that
especially animated students in the GUF.
Secondly, it is important to distinguish between an internal and an
external viewpoint from which to observe the objects of this study. The
impression one gets after reading Parlato’s book is that, from the stand-
point of subjects who comprised the fascist Left, there was little aware-
ness of having formed a homogeneous group. Parlato calls attention to the
fact that during the RSI period (after September 1943), as well as during
the regime, the fascist Left could not even be considered a “current,”
either on the basis of having a unified strategy or sharing an organizational
perspective, despite having in common a language and certain aspirations.
The historian’s external view can render relatively uniform and com-
pact an aggregate of aspirations, mental attitudes, and ideal projects. The
empirical significance of this synthesis, insofar as the individuals in ques-
tion never constituted themselves as a unified and coherent group, is open
to question. The synthesis is acceptable only on the condition that it is not
understood to be a history of fascism “seen from the Left,” or not only
that. Paradoxically, one is presented as well with the detailed history of a
broad and diffuse component of 20th century Italian political culture,
namely, the Left. It remains to be determined how “heretical” this compo-
nent was and, above all, how it could be understood after WWII, given
the divisions which took place. Parlato offers a useful map in the conclud-
ing chapter, broadening the analytic frame beyond the neo-fascist
“national Left” and beyond the 1970s. Certainly, during the past 20
years, ideological borders have once again intersected, and the end of the
Cold War buried certain issues, while removing others from mothballs.
Parlato will be called upon to complete the difficult and inevitable task of
proving the hypothesis of this book: does a Left in Italy exist which, in
the name of synthesizing labor and the nation, better than any other ideo-
logical current, embody a “third way”? At the moment, all one can say is
that its syncretic nature has led it to oscillate between Right and Left,
contributing to the connotation of such terms as “socialist-national” and
36 DANILO BRESCHI
36. Ernesto Massi, Nazione socile. Scritti politici 1948-76 (Rome: ISC, 1990).
37. Luigi Salvatorelli, Nazionalfascismo (Turin: Gobetti, 1923).
38. G. Ansaldo, “Il fascismo e la piccola borghesia tecnica,” reprinted in Costnzo
Casucci, Il fascismo. Antologia di scritti critici (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1982), pp. 370-71.
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 37
that for some (the traditional elites) meant preserving the status quo, while
for others (those partially or fully excluded by previous regimes) it meant a
fundamental change favoring the social promotion of the non-elites.
If one explores the management of relations between the countryside
and the city, as well as the related problems of urbanization and ruraliza-
tion, the contradictions between innovation and conservation become
immediately apparent. Ideologically, “urbanism” was defined as a disease
and “ruralism” as its cure. In practice, fascist ruralism was the rhetorical
cover for an only partially successful attempt at controlling the country-
side, an attempt at “immobilization” or “crystalization,” while actually
restructuring and expanding the cities. At the same time, an analysis of
urban-rural relations brings to light a strong continuity of fascist policy
with the mentality and values of large segments of Italian society as it
existed before WWI. Ansaldo and other acute observers noted how fas-
cism, better than its political competitors, responded to the exigencies of
“masses” who now were entering upon the political scene, and these
“masses” included not only factory workers and those working in the
fields, but also artisans, shop owners, and numerous service sector work-
ers, no less than students whose studies were interrupted by the war.
Anthropologically, one could consider the desire to forge a “new
man,” a criterion some have used to distinguish the ideology and practice
of Italian fascism from that of the German Nazism, as well as their differ-
ent relations with modernity. From 1977 on, Mosse declared his agree-
ment with De Felice’s affirmation on how Mussolini was literally drunk
with the idea of creating “a new type of citizen” and the prospects of
being able to modify collective mentalities and customs. De Felice
observed that this was “a typically democratic idea which was illuminist,
of a Rousseauian character,” rooted in the radical Left formation of Mus-
solini’s youth (and not in the sort of radical Right formation that led to
Nazism).39 Mosse argued that, conversely, the Nazi concept of man was
fundamentally static, characterized by a regressive representation of his-
tory, and marked by the decay and corruption of antique virtues inherent
in the superior Germanic “Aryan” race contaminated by other inferior,
parasitic races. By way of contrast, Italian fascist ideology, though not
without contradictions, manifested a marked openness to modernity.40
De Felice was aware of the presence of a strong “ruralist component”
42. A.F.S. Organski, The Stages of Political Development (New York: Knopf,
1965).
43. Ludovico Garruccio, “Le tre età del fascismo”, reprinted in Ludovico Incisa di
Camerana, Fascismo, popolismo, modernizzazione (Rome: Pellicani, 2000), pp. 235-58.
40 DANILO BRESCHI
that found themselves in a new, ambiguous political space, one filled best
by Mussolini’s fascists.
In this phase of profound social inequality and existential suffering,
there was a need for an “ideology of transition” which could paternalisti-
cally reassure the restless masses of veterans. This paternalism was
unavoidable, because more than half of Italian society was still composed
of peasant families, and the rest came from urban families where tradi-
tional culture still was influential. Departing from De Felice’s first intui-
tions regarding the active and central role of the intermediate strata, but
anticipating the thesis of the “emerging middle classes,” Incisa di Camer-
ana in 1971 wrote a profound and penetrating analysis on the social
classes who were the backbone of the origins of fascism: “In this petty-
bourgeois sphere, the matrix of fascism is also biologically circum-
scribed; fascism always is the expression of a young petty-bourgeois gen-
eration. The middle class is generally integrated, at least partially, in the
establishment, and does not normally tend toward rebellion or seek to
destroy the social order. Youth is the unique group within the petty-bour-
geoisie that is open for an adventure that promises hegemony. Such hege-
mony could arrive in pre-industrial fascism with the simple substitution of
a new ruling class for the old one. In a transitional fascism, it could arrive
by interposing a new class between the advanced socio-economic bloc
and the backward one. In post-industrial fascism, it could arrive with a
new condominium of power. In each of these three cases, the main aim is
national unity, or rather a complete integration of the country. The “non-
classicist” or “aclassist” mentality of the petty-bourgeoisie, its economic
neutrality between capitalism and the proletariat, assures fascism an ideo-
logical flexibility that allows for almost any type of alliance.”
Incisa di Camerana’s reasoning departs from an interpretation of fas-
cism as an international political and ideological phenomenon that can
apply to any society in the transition to industrialization. One must under-
stand the diversity, sometimes very profound, between individual national
cases. The author remains convinced that the transition from agricultural
to industrial societies produce “predisposing conditions” that make very
attractive certain ideological formulae, and of these Italian fascism surely
represents the best 20th century prototype. Here, it would be interesting to
explore how and where Incisa di Camerana would situate the genesis of
Bolshevism in Russia in 1917. He wrote very little on the subject, other
than a few sentences more than thirty years ago: “Fascism could be
defined as the dictatorship an emerging petty-bourgeois generation, calling
ITALIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY 41
their own traditions and from their own sources of well-being by WWI
and then the crisis related to postwar industrial conversion. A similar sit-
uation touched almost all of the Western democracies, which experi-
enced authoritarian temptations and strong state intervention, especially
after the Wall Street crash of 1929.
It is useful to cite an expression used by Incisa di Camerana, the
“epochal dimension of modernity” that fascism, beginning with Musso-
lini, sought to represent and impose on the entire Italian population. It was
that dimension that fascinated many Italian and European intellectuals,
young and old alike. The challenge of fascism, which is in some ways
similar to that of Nazism and communism, consisted in substituting for a
logic based on the individual a logic based on the “collective subject,” a
subject that rarely, if ever, is capable of constituting a unitary, unambigu-
ous will. Without will, there is no effective subject, but only an indistinct
mass manipulated by a closed elite and subjugated to a charismatic leader.
As Settembrini says: “For these reasons fascism, or at least its ideology, is
equally invoked as a category by those who, on the one hand, would
reduce it to a movement against modernity in all its aspects, beginning
with industrialization, to those, such as A. James Gregor, on the other,
who see in fascism the prototype of a fully rational developmental dicta-
torship. In reality . . . the originality of fascist ideology, the spring that
determines its internal dynamic, resides in the very pretext of succeeding
to be one and the other at the same time.”48
According to Settembrini’s interpretation, fascism is ambivalent with
respect to modernity. This is understandable if one considers the fact that
liberalism and democracy, as ideologies and as ideals, remained largely
separated during the course of two centuries. A separation artificially
maintained by groups and political forces which were, in some cases,
interested in maintaining a status quo and, in others, determined to over-
turn it in favor of new models of society. During the 20th century, Europe
saw many cases of this latter type.
These considerations by Settembrini have found an echo in Stanley
Payne’s recent History of Fascism, for whom the triumph of an earlier
hedonistic and consumerist materialism gave way, during the course of the
20th century, to the call for asceticism and revolutionary idealism, whether
fascist or communist. In this vein, Settembrini argues: “Fascism, as an ide-
ology that accomplished sincere adhesion, genuine enthusiasm, and heroic