Introduction
The protests and political violence of the late 1960s and early 1970s contributed to deepening the crisis of the party system that had arisen from the ruins of the Second World War (Crainz Reference Crainz2003; De Luna Reference De Luna2009). This was the beginning of what Sidney Tarrow identified as a ‘cycle of protest’ which, starting from student groups and youth movements, extended to almost all sectors of Italian society, while at the same time fostering the violent rise of ‘extra-parliamentary’ organisations (Tarrow Reference Tarrow1989). In this context, there also emerged in the far-right milieu a new generation of militants and extra-parliamentary groups, often in tension with the Italian Social Movement (Movimento Sociale Italiano, MSI), which, while remaining on the margins of Italian political life, sought to legitimise itself through participation in parliamentary politics.Footnote 1 It was precisely this strategy of integration that became, for some far-right groups and movements, a kind of internal adversary to be opposed and, at times, actively boycotted. In this regard, the MSI had begun progressively to lose contact with young neofascists much earlier, at the beginning of the 1960s. The party was politically isolated, caught between the hope of legitimising itself by supporting the moderate factions of the Christian Democrats (Democrazia Cristiana, DC) and the drive for renewal coming from its youth sectors (Ignazi Reference Ignazi1989, 129–133).
The year 1968 was crucial for almost all political currents, and this was also true for the young Italian far-right. The entire youth protest movement, despite its various and often opposing political and social orientations, seemed to establish certain conditions for a possible – albeit fragile and short-lived – form of generational unity within youth cultures. However, this was not an idea destined to unite, at least in the medium to long term, the majority of young people regardless of their political orientation. If, in an initial phase in 1968, a generational unity seemed to emerge after years of confrontation between the far-right and the far-left, the divergence soon became inevitable, since young people on the far right interpreted that revolution in spiritualist and national-European, solidaristic and socialising terms. This rapid distancing also triggered a process of disintegration within the youth of the MSI who, directly or indirectly, aligned themselves with various different currents of the student movement, such as Giovane Italia, Nuova Caravella and the group Lotta di Popolo, led by the former leader of National Vanguard (Avanguardia Nazionale, AN) Stefano delle Chiaie (Ignazi Reference Ignazi1989, 131–132).
This essay, although it begins by offering a brief but necessary historical reconstruction of events, leaves strictly political questions in the background and instead prioritises the cultural aspects of the far-right youth movement, with particular attention to the musical sphere. In this field, for example, the 1970s witnessed the birth and rapid spread of punk music which, particularly in the latter half of the decade, was soon adopted by far-right groups to convey their ideas and rally militants around them.Footnote 2 Research conducted so far on the period between 1968 and 1977, although continuously growing, still significantly overlooks the role and influence that music had in shaping the post-Fascist cultural landscape of the far right. For example, as Giorgia Bulli points out, summarising the thoughts of various other scholars (Klandermans and Staggenborg Reference Klandermans and Staggenborg2002; Corte and Edwards Reference Corte and Edwards2008), prevailing research on social movements ‘has, more often than not, relegated cultural products like music, art and film to a secondary status analytically, compared to more tangible social and political movement productions like protests, political turnout or media coverage’ (Bulli Reference Bulli2020, 208). Furthermore, as confirmed by Bulli and earlier by Valerio Marchi (Reference Marchi1997), there is an important issue regarding the origins and quantity of sources: ‘In Italy, only a few scientific analyses – despite their political orientation – focus on the rich Italian far-right musical production. Most sources (Di Giorgi Reference Di Giorgi2008, Di Giorgi and Ferrario Reference Di Giorgi and Ferrario2010) are inquiries and historical reconstructions conducted by insiders of the far-right cultural and political scene’ (Bulli Reference Bulli2020, 214).
This article, in contrast, seeks to address this gap by combining a well-grounded historical reconstruction of the political and cultural landscape of the era with a qualitative analysis of period materials such as songs, festivals, and music biographies. In an analysis of far-right culture, music represents an innovative tool that scholars have only recently begun to utilise. While extensive research has illuminated the ideologies, strategic doctrines, and operational tactics of far-right movements and organisations, their cultural practices – a rich amalgam of symbols, rituals, music, and social norms – have not received proportional scholarly attention (Argentino and Amarasingam Reference Argentino and Amarasingam2026, xx).
This article offers a more detailed examination of the historical and cultural roots of far-right music in Italy through the analysis of three key concepts. First is the development of right-wing ‘alternative’ music, which served as a prototype of far-right music, in opposition both to conservative culture, mainly controlled by Christian Democracy, and to the progressive culture promoted by the left within the 1968 student movement.Footnote 3 Second, the focus is on the far-right’s adoption and instrumentalisation of Tolkien’s books and, more generally, of works deriving from chivalric epic and the fantasy genre, as well as on the organisation of the so-called ‘Hobbit camps’, which served as a genuine laboratory for far-right cultural politics and, importantly in the context of this study, as a source of musical inspiration. Evidence of this can be found in the graphic design of various album covers, the names of some of the most important bands, and references found in numerous songs. Third, this article addresses the radicalisation of far-right alternative music during the Years of Lead, marked by increasingly extreme lyrics and content, and its evolution into much more aggressive and provocative genres such as punk. This final phase, in particular, paved the way for the creation of an international network of far-right musicians and bands that, even today, form the solid backbone of a movement now too large, albeit hidden, to be defined as a mere subculture. In this sense, the history of ‘alternative’ non conforme music – that is, ‘dissenting’ music, as Italian far-right activists today describe it – is also the history of the ‘other Sixty-Eight’ and its troubled legacy.
Historical and political background
In a recent essay, Guido Panvini highlighted several important elements in the cultural and political development of far-right youth (Panvini Reference Panvini2024). In particular, he emphasised three key factors. The first is the emotional aspect of war and its memory, which translates into a cult of martyrs and fallen heroes. This is a strategy for processing grief and building a ‘new’ nation, a strategy first adopted by Mussolini after the end of the First World War.Footnote 4 Unlike Mussolini’s early followers, however, the young neofascists of the 1950s had not triumphed in the conflict. On the contrary, they had lost, and for many veterans, this defeat became an excuse. While a sense of resignation mixed with nostalgia matured among the older generations of survivors, the younger ones criticised this attitude, wondering why the veterans were not, instead, driven by a deep sense of revenge. In this context, the so-called ‘clandestine fascism’ (fascismo clandestino) represented an early reaction to the disappearance of Mussolini’s ideologies from democratic Italy.Footnote 5 This was a phenomenon that had its origins in the final phase of the Second World War, particularly from the trauma experienced by those fascists whom Andrea Mammone referred to many years ago as ‘orphans of the Duce’. For these fascists, 8 September 1943 elicited feelings of solitude and nostalgia, in which the myth of the Duce no longer embodied just the image of the leader but also that of Fascism, the homeland, the state, and that sense of invincibility in which many had believed up to that moment (Mammone Reference Mammone2005, 258).
The young neofascists of the 1960s grew up precisely in the aftermath of that civil war fought between the partisans of the Resistance and the veterans of the Italian Social Republic (Repubblica Sociale Italiana, RSI), the puppet state of Nazi Germany in Italy. They inherited, in other words, an eternal sense of defeat and abandonment, which, in the best of cases, would lead to phenomena such as revanchism, or, as often occurred, to more dramatic forms of postwar sentiment like reductionism (reducismo) and nostalgia (Sorgonà Reference Sorgonà2024, 289–290). However, some of those who could not accept this irreversible defeat joined extra-parliamentary movements, often of an international nature, where more militant and dynamic youth factions emerged. This often escalated the political confrontation to a more violent and militarised level, culminating in the terrorism of the Years of Lead (La Bionda Reference La Bionda2017, 224).
The divide between the old and new generations widened to the extent of calling into question the authority of the MSI, a party that undeniably arose from the ashes of Fascism, which gradually lost its full hegemony over neofascism and the younger generation (Mammone Reference Mammone2015, 119). This transitional phase intersects with the second factor, paradoxically shared with far-left youth, highlighted by Panvini: the rejection of the elements that characterised the Italian ‘economic miracle’ (the so-called boom) between 1958 and 1963 – consumerism, materialism, automation, and the increasing marginalisation of the human role in favour of machines and technology. In 1968, this creeping desire for renewal reached its peak, seeing in the far-right student movement a legitimate opportunity to unleash a revolt against ‘consumerism established as a way of life’, in order to build a ‘serious model of society’ that would guarantee their own ‘right to the future’ (Ignazi Reference Ignazi1989, 188). In other words, it was an opposition to the ‘Catholic-Communist’ (cattocomunista) regime.Footnote 6 This appetite for change assumed a European and transnational dimension that affected not only a defeated country like Italy, but also countries such as Britain and France, which had made significant contributions to the downfall of Fascism in Europe.Footnote 7
Finally, the third and most undoubtedly dramatic factor is the shift of political struggle from the cultural realm to armed conflict, particularly with the emergence of far-right groups such as New Order (Ordine Nuovo, ON) and National Vanguard (Avanguardia Nazionale, AN).Footnote 8 Between 1973 and 1976, although ON and AN officially disbanded after being accused of attempting to resurrect the National Fascist Party (Partito Nazionale Fascista, PNF), some smaller and less organised groups partially took up their legacy by founding the Armed Revolutionary Nuclei (Nuclei Armati Rivoluzionari, NAR), the Revolutionary Popular Movement (Movimento Rivoluzionario Popolare, MRP), and Third Position (Terza Posizione, TP). The militants of these new organisations belonged to a younger generation inspired by the anti-capitalist and anti-bourgeois visions of the philosopher Julius Evola and fuelled by a rhetoric of desperate heroism. Compared to the neofascism of the 1960s, this new generation was less nostalgic for the past, less influenced by Fascist cultural and organisational traditions, and more inclined to immediate action through a generalised and aggressive hostility towards the democratic state (Oliva Reference Oliva2019, 209–210). Their Weltanschauung created a rift with the MSI, which was increasingly engaged in integrating into parliamentary politics. However, as we will see, some of the most prominent militant artists in alternative music emerged from these groups. Furthermore, far-left organisations such as the Red Brigades (Brigate Rosse, BR) intensified the struggle not only against the police and the state but also against the opposing far-right factions.Footnote 9
In this chaotic context of revolutionary and counter-revolutionary conflicts, often resulting in victims, including innocents, on both sides, the new generation of far-right militants began to mourn and celebrate their fallen comrades (camerati), no longer just martyrs to be remembered, but also heroes to be avenged and from whom to draw inspiration. In this regard, among the most impactful incidents were the Primavalle fire (rogo di Primavalle) on 16 April 1973, resulting in two deaths (Virgilio and Stefano Mattei) and two injuries; the death of Emanuele Zilli on 8 November 1973, from injuries sustained in an attack; the killing of Giuseppe Mazzola and Graziano Girolucci on 17 June 1974; Miki Mantakas, killed on 28 February 1975; and perhaps the most shattering event in the collective memory of the Italian far right, the murder of the student Sergio Ramelli, who was attacked on 13 March 1975, and died on April 29 from his injuries. Many militants, including some musicians, interpreted this escalation as a transition from the protest phase of 1968 to the phase of direct and violent action in 1977. In this regard, the new wave of far-right terrorism had different characteristics from that of the years between 1969 and 1975. The struggle was no longer waged for the defence of the nation against the communist threat, nor did it any longer claim to stand in defence of the bourgeoisie. The ‘coupist’ method also had to be abandoned, focusing instead on a war against massification.Footnote 10 Thus there emerged the figure of the ‘political soldier’, who carries out exemplary actions without concern for danger or consequences. This was, in other words, the so-called ‘armed spontaneity’ which won support above all in metropolitan areas, particularly in Rome. It was the shortest route, the one that led to armed struggle and, therefore, to terrorism (Ignazi Reference Ignazi1989, 192–195).
The development of far-right music
The origins of alternative music date back to the mid-1960s when Leo Valeriano, a pseudonym for Leo Di Giannantonio, made his debut in 1965 as an actor and cabaret artist for the variety company Il Bagaglino, which was associated with the right-wing political sphere. His songs had political connotations, with anti-communist and anti-Soviet sentiments, but without an explicit intent to propagate or celebrate fascism (La Bionda Reference La Bionda2017, 224). For example, in 1965 he released Berlin, a protest song against the German Democratic Republic, which he accused of trampling on its citizens’ freedom. A year later, he released Un ragazzo (literally A Boy, or A Young Man), a piece inspired by a young volunteer soldier of the RSI who dies in battle defending his convictions. Then, in 1968, he composed Budapest, another protest song dedicated to the Soviet repression of the Hungarian uprising in 1956.Footnote 11 Valeriano was part of a youth musical movement which, although a minority, by the mid-1960s – having moved beyond the era of clandestine neofascism and the struggle for political survival – emerged openly in clear opposition to the political and cultural identity of republican Italy, founded on the principles of antifascism.
Furthermore, the youth of that generation could no longer be satisfied with the cultural and artistic heritage of the 20-year Fascist period (the Ventennio) or the RSI. In this field, there were no works capable of capturing the anxieties, expectations, and ideas of those young people born after the Second World War and the decline of Fascism. Consequently, they felt the need to create something new for themselves, while still respecting their historical, political, and cultural past (Di Giorgi and Ferrario Reference Di Giorgi and Ferrario2010, 8). For example, some ‘dissident’ artists began to critique communism, especially the Soviet system, and sought to move beyond the nostalgic repertoire of the old Fascist Ventennio.Footnote 12 Far-right politically engaged music also distanced itself from mass culture, such as the Sanremo Festival (Borio Reference Borio, Kutschke and Norton2013, 37).
The first protagonists of this new musical scene were the aforementioned cabaret company Il Bagaglino (1965), as well as Il Giardino dei Supplizi (1967). Adopting a style of political and social satire, artists such as Raffaello Della Bona, Pier Francesco Pingitore, Mario Castellacci, Luciano Cirri, Piero Palumbo and others were soon accused of being right-wing. They firmly claimed this definition because, they explained, the oppressive and freedom-killing regime culture was precisely that of the left. An example of this political – and consequently artistic – outlook is Avanti ragazzi di Buda (Forward, Youth of Budapest), an anticommunist song written by Pingitore and composed by Dimitri Gribanovski in 1966. It commemorated the tenth anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and spread among far-right youths in Roman schools and universities. This initial group of artists was joined by figures like the above-mentioned Valeriano, Oreste Lionello, Pippo Franco, Gianna Preda, and Pino Caruso (Di Giorgi and Ferrario Reference Di Giorgi and Ferrario2010, 33–34).Footnote 13 In this milieu, songs such as Occidente goodbye (Goodbye West), written in 1968, emerged, offering a satirical critique of the consumerism generated by the ‘economic miracle’, as did the surprising tribute to Ernesto Guevara in another 1968 song, Addio Che (A Farewell to Che), performed by Gabriella Ferri.
The transition from cabaret (characterised by monologues, comic sketches, and theatrical readings) to proper alternative music took place in the mid-1970s. The first pioneers of the genre were solo singer-songwriters, often multi-instrumentalists, after which the first bands began to form. The production of this music had already begun in the early 1970s with the activities of the Padovan Group of National Protest (Gruppo Padovano di Protesta Nazionale), followed by Janus, Amici del Vento, and ZPM. As for singer-songwriters, the most famous were Michele Di Fiò, Massimo Morsello, Fabrizio Marzi, and Roberto Scocco (De Grassi Reference De Grassi1994, 244), who began his musical career in adolescence, in 1972, playing Valeriano’s songs.Footnote 14 A short time later, in 1974, five young activists from Padua, belonging to the MSI Youth Front (Fronte della Gioventù, FdG) and the National Action University Front (Fronte Universitario d’Azione Nazionale, FUAN) – Loris Lombroni, Fabio Ragno, Gigi Toso, Roberto Meconcelli and Mario Bortoluzzi – founded the aforementioned Gruppo Padovano di Protesta Nazionale.Footnote 15
As well as through small local concerts, far-right music began to spread across the country by means typical of clandestine and underground cultures, the most powerful of which was word of mouth (Di Giorgi and Ferrario Reference Di Giorgi and Ferrario2010, 40). During the 1970s the so-called ‘free radios’ also played a significant role. Among the most important were Radio University in Milan, Radio Alternativa in Rome, Radio Inn in Perugia, Radio Sud in Naples, Radio Conero in Ancona, and Radio Mantakas in Osimo. These stations were self-managed by young militants, operated without central coordination, and served as platforms where ideas, programmes, cassettes and records were exchanged (Di Giorgi and Ferrario Reference Di Giorgi and Ferrario2010, 44).
The last and most effective means of promoting the alternative scene was the first ‘Hobbit camp’ (Campo hobbit), held in Montesarchio (near Benevento) in 1977 (Guerrieri Reference Guerrieri2005, 166). During this event, the duo La Compagnia dell’Anello (The Fellowship of the Ring), formed by Mario Bortoluzzi and Junio Guariento, former members of the Gruppo Padovano di Protesta Nazionale, made their debut, taking direct inspiration from Tolkien’s work. Under the slogan ‘Gandalf is alive and fights with us’, they managed to blend fantasy with political commitment (Lanna and Rossi Reference Lanna and Rossi2003, 222). Their aim, as they themselves explained, was to start out as two and, like Tolkien’s heroes, perhaps grow to nine. In other words, what mattered was to set off; the others, they believed, would be found along the way.Footnote 16 The band’s most famous song, Il domani appartiene a noi (Tomorrow Belongs to Us), became the anthem of the young right-wing movement. The song signified the shift from memory and testimony, moving from the ‘ghetto’ to the ‘open sea of politics’ (Lanna and Rossi Reference Lanna and Rossi2003, 228–229).Footnote 17 The Hobbit camps were not only the primary platform for alternative music but also the greatest incubator of right-wing culture of that era and for many years to come.Footnote 18 They were, in another sense, a kind of opening to the leftist youth. They offered an outstretched hand to start a dialogue with former enemies. In other words, this generation of neofascists cried aloud that they did not want to live in cultural, and, at times, social, marginalisation – not even in the backward-looking, and reassuring, one of their fathers. They wanted to look similar to their coetaneous left wingers (Mammone Reference Mammone2015, 174).
Punk revolution between RAR and RAC
Although it is extremely difficult, and probably just as pointless, to provide an exhaustive definition of ‘punk’ and its offshoots (such as Oi!, for example), it is nevertheless necessary to identify the chronological and social coordinates within which the transition took place – whether revolutionary or not – from far-right singer-songwriter music to the better-known and decidedly more impactful Rock Against Communism (RAC). The first wave of British punk rock was, in part, a form of youth rebellion. It gave voice to a collective need for cultural renewal and provided a channel through which younger generations – mainly from the working classes, who were severely affected by the economic and employment crisis that hit Britain, as well as the rest of Europe and the United States, in the 1970s – could communicate their frustration. Moreover, between 1976 and 1978, punk also emerged as an artistic current among students at the Schools of Art and within the pop and youth cultures of the major cities. The principal form of punk expression was, from its very beginnings, music – understood as both an individual and collective language, yet, at least in its early stages, lacking a defined philosophical or political frame of reference (Masini Reference Masini2019, 21). Nonetheless, the display of swastikas – worn as badges and patches on leather jackets or painted on the face – was fairly widespread. As with the Sex Pistols, this did not amount to an ideological commitment, but rather to the use of such symbols for satirical purposes against contemporary society and political debate: swastikas were mixed with images of Marx or the anarchist symbol as a provocative gesture towards mainstream culture (Masini Reference Masini2019, 45).
However, it is clear that, by the mid-1970s, some British rock musicians were visibly fascinated by Nazi aesthetics and symbolism which, together with the re-emergence of far-right and neofascist forces, contributed to poisoning not only the political climate but also the social and cultural one (Masini Reference Masini2019, 44). Furthermore, on the far right, punk’s urbanity and fascination with fascism coincided with National Front recruitment drives geared to exploit the territorial proclivities of youth (Worley Reference Worley2017, 141). Perhaps for these reasons too, most authors have identified the origins of far-right music in the late 1970s, when the fusion of racist lyrics and punk rock was promoted by Ian Stuart Donaldson, the frontman and leader of the British band Skrewdriver (Bulli Reference Bulli2020, 213). In particular, right-wing punk, a pioneer of the broader genre of RAC, had solidified in direct opposition to Rock Against Racism (RAR).
Rock Against Racism was a movement born of crisis. Its creation, in 1976, coincided with a period of dramatic political and economic instability in Britain and it arose against a backdrop of class tensions and increasing racism (Goodyer Reference Goodyer2003, 44). In general, punk was becoming increasingly blatantly political rather than emphasising nihilism and the abolishment of meaning. RAR in particular was coming into public awareness, with bands such as the Clash hoping to ‘catalyse an antiracist, working-class cultural, economic, and political rebellion in Britain’, and gaining support from big music industry names like Bob Marley (Fischer Reference Fischer2022, 68). Around the same time, Eric Clapton and David Bowie were accused of making fascist and racist statements – Clapton at a concert in Birmingham in 1976 ‘that seemed to support Enoch Powell’s view on repatriation’ and Bowie telling a reporter a year later: ‘I think that Britain could benefit from a fascist leader. After all, fascism is really nationalism’ (Shaffer Reference Shaffer2013, 465–466). In response to this dangerous climate of hate, in 1978 alone RAR fans and activists organised 300 local gigs and five carnivals, including two enormous London events run jointly with the Anti-Nazi League (ANL). During the 1979 general election RAR staged a ‘Militant Entertainment Tour’ which featured around 40 bands at 23 concerts and covered some ‘2000 miles on the road’. Their slogan was ‘Reggae, Soul, Rock and Roll, Jazz, Funk and Punk: Our Music’ (Goodyer Reference Goodyer2003, 45). In this way, a left-wing network was formed, consisting of a musical component, RAR, and two political components: the ANL and the Socialist Workers Party (SWP).
Additionally, there was the revival and spread, even beyond British borders, of a phenomenon that originated at the end of the 1960s: the skinhead subculture. According to John Clarke, skinhead culture developed in the East End of London and was originally a self-generated youth movement (Clarke Reference Clarke1973, 10). This subculture was relaunched in the early to mid-1970s, when it was adopted by several groups such as the Mods, and biker gangs like the Rockers and Hells Angels, or on the terraces of football stadiums. It was also in the 1970s that skinheads spread geographically across Britain and first appeared in the media (Pollard Reference Pollard2016, 399–400). In addition to their distinctive style and the romanticisation of the working class, the skinheads became particularly renowned for their musical expression. Initially, their musical tastes were rooted in Afro-Cuban genres (Pieslak Reference Pieslak2015, 56), including Jamaican ska music (which, Pieslak notes, is ironic given their subsequent descent into racism). By the mid-1970s, however, the skinheads began favouring the raw, cacophonous sounds of punk. Specifically, they gravitated toward a subgenre known as Oi!, which epitomised an ‘aggressive, tougher, and more unrefined’ form of punk that aimed to recapture the genre’s early authenticity. Although Oi! was not inherently aligned with the skinheads as a group, a cultural association between the music and the movement eventually emerged. The punk aesthetic, with its emphasis on shock value, also facilitated this transition from concerns over British nationalism and immigration to more overt and militant neo-Nazi ideologies (Fischer Reference Fischer2022, 67).
Until the mid-1970s, the skinhead culture served as a common ground for both the far left and the far right. Thereafter, in the latter half of the 1970s, the two currents began to diverge, ultimately adopting violently opposing stances. The Oi! punk band Skrewdriver and its charismatic leader Donaldson were the vector for the projection into skinhead culture of neo-Nazi ideas incarnated at the time by both the National Front (NF) and the British Movement (BM) (Pollard Reference Pollard2016, 401). In 1976 Donaldson’s band began performing in local British pubs, and was eventually offered a contract by Chiswick Records for the song ‘All Skrewed Up’ (Fischer Reference Fischer2022, 68). Many of the band’s fans also had links to groups like the NF and the BM. The connection between these far-right groups and skinheads was strengthened through the start of RAC, a moniker clearly borrowed from RAR but meant to denote a politically right counterpart. In particular, according to a 1979 edition of their newsletter Bulldog, RAC was created to ‘fight back against left-wingers and anti-British traitors in the music press. We hate the poseurs in RAR who are just going to brainwash real rock fans.’ Donaldson would become a prominent figure in RAC, which planned to hold tours and concerts, in the 1980s (Fischer Reference Fischer2022, 69). However, his career came to an end on the night of 23 September 1993, when he was involved in a car crash in Derbyshire that resulted in his death the following day, at the age of 36.
‘Sorry for the delay’
The arrival of punk in Italy, as well as the transition from Italian far-right alternative music to punk – particularly Oi! – was neither rapid nor straightforward, primarily because it took some years after its establishment in the United States and Great Britain. The crucial year was 1977 when, between Milan, Rome and Bologna, various urban youth cultures helped spread punk via, for example, free radio stations. This was how the first wave of punk, made up of the Clash, the Ramones and the Sex Pistols, landed on the peninsula. The Italian market showed a certain flexibility in its definition of punk, especially for commercial purposes. In the autumn of 1977, for example, the first Italian-press compilation, Punk Collection, was released by RCA, featuring tracks by Eater, Iggy Pop and Patti Smith, but also by The Police and Talking Heads (Tomatis Reference Tomatis2021, Kindle).
Far-right punk and, more generally, the alternative far-right music of those years saw the emergence of bands and artists very different from the now-famous ones coming from Britain and the United States. These included, for example, singer-songwriters such as the aforementioned Massimo Morsello, who made his debut in 1978 at the second Hobbit camp (Hobbit II) under the pseudonym ‘Massimino’.Footnote 19 Among his earliest works are Canto sull’aborto, a song critical of the right to abortion, and Hiroo Onoda, a track dedicated to the famous Japanese soldier who, nearly 29 years after the end of the Second World War, was arrested in 1974 in the jungle because he refused to believe that the war had ended. Another theme very dear to Morsello was revolution, the focus of the song Vostro Onore (Your Honour), which is clearly critical of a judiciary perceived as repressive and persecutory.
Unlike in Britain, however, the fusion between Italian far-right music and punk occurred later, at the beginning of the 1980s. While it is clear that the reception of US and British music and, more broadly, US and British culture among Italian youth had already taken place by 1977, it is equally clear that its influence was more defined in left-wing – or at any rate non-right-wing – milieus, such as, for example, anarchist circles. This kind of musical ‘delay’ would explain, for example, why, even at the end of the 1970s, the most successful bands among young Italian far-right activists were Janus, Amici del Vento and Compagnia dell’Anello. These bands were closer to the folk genre, with sounds more suited to the fantasy themes of which Tolkien, among others, was an unwitting prophet. Unlike the deliberately violent and aggressive tracks produced by punk, their songs were not suited to street fighting or to clashes on stadium terraces between rival fans. However, they still displayed a strong level of political commitment, sounding more like a mission to be carried out at any cost, even by means of terrorism if necessary.
It is precisely in this political and chronological context that songs such as Canto di galera by Amici del Vento emerged. The track expresses solidarity with all comrades imprisoned, in their view unjustly, for having clashed with the police, seen as a symbol of a repressive state, or with political opponents, particularly the communists. In this way, new ‘enemies’ were created, in addition to judges and antifascists at whom their anger was already directed: these included, for example, the police and journalists, sometimes even thought to be in collusion in order to neutralise the far right. This is the case in Giornalista di regime, another 1978 track by Amici del Vento, which depicts a journalist who, by placing himself at the disposal of the police, invents dark plots such as attacks and coups d’état unjustly attributed to the far right, with the aim of discrediting and criminalising it in the eyes of citizens and public opinion.
Once again, Amici del Vento offer an example of how militancy and politics intertwine with the Middle Ages and chivalric epic. In their 1978 track La luna e il cavaliere del sole (The Moon and the Sun Knight), chivalric epic and the eternal struggle between good and evil (light and darkness) represent one of the most appreciated and widespread topoi among far-right youth. Medieval imagery and epic play a pivotal role in the music and songs of Janus, another Italian far-right band that emerged in the second half of the 1970s. Tracks such as the instrumental piece Il ritorno del cavaliere nero (The Return of the Black Knight) and Il fuoco e la spada (The Fire and the Sword) both from 1978, are examples of this medieval fascination. In those same years, Janus also wrote songs with a historical inspiration, naturally in an anti-American key, such as Dresda (Dresden) dedicated to the tragic Allied bombing of 1945, but also songs with a philosophical bent, for example Al Maestrale (To the Mistral), a track loosely inspired by the work of Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche and drawn from Così parlò Zarathustra (Thus Spoke Zarathustra). But the band did not neglect politics and ideological confrontation: dispensing with metaphor, the band composed tracks such as Rivoluzione (Revolution) and Manifestazione non autorizzata (Unauthorised Demonstration), in which, once again, old and new enemies emerged: the communists, the bourgeois and the police.
Besides these militant bands, however, young people on the far-right, like many of their peers almost everywhere in the world, also listened to internationally famous artists who certainly could not be associated with their own political or identity sphere. These included, for example, bands that made rock history, such as Led Zeppelin, The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Pink Floyd. The same was true of innovative groups and pioneers of electronic music such as Kraftwerk, who nonetheless often became the object of banal and superficial mystifications by the far right for the sole reason that they were German (Marchi Reference Marchi1997, 61). In Italy, some sectors of the far right adopted as a kind of generational soundtrack several works by musicians such as Lucio Battisti and Franco Battiato who, especially between the 1970s and 1980s, were labelled by some of the press and public debate, without providing any convincing evidence, as ‘right-wing artists’. The musicians themselves explicitly rejected this label, insisting instead on their creative freedom and on their distance from politics. In the case of Battisti the repeated accusations of being a fascist contributed to marginalising him for a long time, beginning in the early 1970s (Rao Reference Rao2006, 394; Tomatis Reference Tomatis2021, Kindle). Battiato, by contrast, was undoubtedly one of the few artists capable of steering Italian and international music from the 1970s into the 1980s, privileging originality and innovation over political militancy (Tomatis Reference Tomatis2021, Kindle). Criticism of society and of a political system already in crisis was often exploited by various currents, not only those on the far right, in order to enrich and legitimise their own cultural repertoire, particularly as regards young people. This was, in other words, a form of symbolic appropriation and, above all, a distorted political reading of various artists’ work.
Conclusion
At the MSI conference of 1995 in Fiuggi, the party secretary Gianfranco Fini renounced its allegiance to Fascism in an attempt to give it a new liberal–conservative identity as the Alleanza Nazionale. Political scientist Piero Ignazi commented, in a documentary of 2005 on the history of the Italian far-right: ‘It was not so surprising that the investigation conducted in Fiuggi revealed that two thirds of the party executives participating in the congress still considered Fascism to be a good regime’.Footnote 20 In the same documentary, the publisher and author Umberto Croppi added: ‘The problem of Alleanza Nazionale is not that it hasn’t come to terms with Fascism, because Fascism was dealt with by history. In between, there is another history, which is that of neofascism’.Footnote 21 In this regard, consideration of the ‘other Sixty-Eight’ and the far-right wave of violence that began in 1977 also suffers from the lack of an in-depth historical, social, and cultural analysis of Italian neofascism, its relationship with the Fascist past, and the significant remnants that survive in Italian society through symbols, suggestions, distortions, and instrumentalisations. The cultural appropriation of Tolkien, for example, reflects the need among young people on the far-right to break free from a past that was theirs only through the memories and missed opportunities of their fathers (and sometimes mothers) involved in the drama of the Second World War. If their fathers’ attitude, as veterans, led to a strict duty to remember, it also pushed young people to move beyond, often inspired by Evolian exhortations and the possible alternative worlds depicted in Tolkien’s works. However, considering the success of Tolkien in Italy since the first edition of The Lord of the Rings (1974), it cannot be said that his book circulated exclusively within far-right circles. On the contrary, based on sales figures, the work enjoyed broad and widespread popularity, which the right likely leveraged to garner more support among the youth. In this sense, it seems that the left, or at least its political parties, completely ignored the attractive power of such works. A similar observation, excluding texts, symbols, and content, could be made about the spread of punk among young people and its extraordinary ability to convey social, political, and economic messages.
Additionally, the myths of new martyrs endure. No longer only the fallen of Fascism and the RSI, but also those of student struggles, such as Ramelli. To these are added martyrs like Massimo Morsello and others, heroes of a political and musical epic that even, as in the case of Morsello, led to armed struggle. The pantheon expands not only with Italian martyrs, but foreign ones too – sometimes anonymous faces such as the ‘Boys of Buda’, who rebelled against the Moscow regime in 1956, as well as the better-known figure of Jan Palach, a symbol of Czechoslovak anti-Soviet resistance. And again, musical myths such as Donaldson, who, although he died in the early 1990s, still embodies the image of a ‘warrior-hero’ of RAC today. In this sense, while the period from the postwar era to 1968 was the moment of songwriters, and politically engaged music on ‘reality’ (Berlin, Budapest, Prague, and their anti-Soviet revolts), the early 1970s and the appropriation of Tolkien marked a separation, a detachment from reality, coinciding with disillusionment and estrangement from traditional parties. However, the main difference between Italy and many other Western countries, such as Britain and the United States, not only in the musical milieu of the far-right, was the late arrival of punk.
Italian far-right musicians, at least until the beginning of the 1980s, composed works of political commitment and militancy, often violent, attacking the judiciary, the state and the police. They targeted the entire antifascist spectrum as well as the bourgeoisie, consumerism and pro-American society. At the same time, however, they expressed themselves through sounds that were very far removed from the raw, aggressive riffs introduced by punk. Their tracks still lasted several minutes, often echoing the style of the ballad typical of 1960s progressive rock and the first half of the 1970s. This, for example, was the style of Morsello and the Compagnia dell’Anello. In other cases, the songs drew on fantasy atmospheres, not only Tolkienian but also those of the chivalric epic. This was the style of bands such as Janus, characterised by folk sonorities that were at times epic and solemn, complete with keyboards, Hammond organs and flutes – instruments particularly in vogue between the late 1960s and early 1970s among much more famous bands such as Jethro Tull and Deep Purple, who were certainly not entangled in political extremism. This phase lasted briefly, a few years at most, until 1977–1978 when extremism and armed struggle violently reconnected with reality.
At that point, it was no longer about escaping reality but violently returning to it. Even within far-right music, however, the ‘false start’ of Italian punk in some way shaped its evolution. In opposition to the models introduced into the country, all too often watered down and packaged for the market, there developed from the 1980s onwards a lively alternative undergrowth which, in many cases, drew inspiration from the radical fringes of the 1977 movement (Tomatis Reference Tomatis2021, Kindle). This phenomenon culminated in the emergence of RAC, not only in Italy but across the West, perhaps the most effective and long-lasting weapon in the far right’s musical arsenal. This is demonstrated, for example, by the founding, in the mid-1980s, of the international neo-Nazi network Blood & Honour (B&H), the lynchpin of the Western far right’s musical convergence, created once again by Donaldson under the banner of RAC (Rosati Reference Rosati2018, 31). However, as Matthew Worley has pointed out, prior to Skrewdriver’s emergence as figureheads of an openly neo-Nazi music scene, RAC existed more in name than in substance. Moreover, it was not firmly rooted in punk. In this regard, the revived skinhead youth culture of the mid-1970s coincided, in Britain, with the NF and BM’s recruitment drive among the young working class, contentiously fusing skinhead style with far-right politics. For some, this was often just a pose, while for others it represented a genuine political vocation that found cultural expression in music and style (Worley Reference Worley2017, 155–156). In other words, music, regardless of its countless definitions, variations and geographical origins, constituted the most versatile and innovative weapon, capable of normalising and spreading through other genres both within and outside the rock world, with its various shades ranging from punk to metal, folk, and synthwave.
Acknowledgements
The author wishes to thank Katherine Kondor, Greta Jasser, Celestine Kunkeler, David Carrillo Rangel, and Nike Døving.
Competing interests
The author declares none.
Funding statement
This work was supported by the Research Council of Norway (Norges Forskningsrad), project number: 104910101.
Fabio Ferrarini is currently an adjunct professor of modern and contemporary history at the University of Milan (Italy). His research explores the cultural and ideological impact of totalitarian regimes, particularly Fascism and Nazism in the Nordic countries, and the role of the arts, especially music and aesthetics, in far-right movements. Among his most important publications are: ‘L’Asse spezzato’. Fascismo, nazismo e diplomazia culturale nei paesi nordici 1922–1945, Mondadori (2021); ‘The Impact of the March on Rome in the Nordic Countries: the Ideological Dilemma between “Black” and “Red” Revolutions’, in The Global Impact of the March on Rome, ed. G. Albanese, F. Focardi, M. Millan and M. Mondini, Routledge (2026); and Italian Fascism in the Nordic Countries (1919–1945), Cambridge University Press (2026).