Autobiografia del primo fascismo is an original contribution to the studies on the genesis of Italian Fascism’s political ideology and mentality; and an interesting reflection on the construction, and the public use, of personal and collective memory.
The book analyses the birth and affirmation of the Fascist movement, from the end of the First World War to the ‘march on Rome’ (28 October 1922), through the edited memoirs of 64 of its protagonists: Fascist hierarchs such as Bottai, Balbo, Cianetti, De Vecchi, Farinacci, Grandi, Giuriati and Lessona, as well as ‘ordinary’ members of several Fascist action squads, the so-called squadristi. ‘The memory of the beginnings of Fascism is, indeed, the memory of the squadristi’ (8).
The author explores themes and motifs of ‘Fascist auto-representation’ (7) with competency and scientific rigour. In a sort of ‘borderland’ between history, political science, sociology, collective memory and cultural studies, Baldassini identifies her own field of historical analysis in a new approach to Fascist studies where the extreme heterogeneity of personal memories becomes part of the public political discourse without leaving room for any sort of misrepresentation of the historical events. On the contrary, the accurate and conscious use of the written testimonies, harmonised with a fresh and fluid prose style, reinforces, enriches and consolidates the scientific structure of the book and captures the attention of the reader.
The Italian scholar combines recourse to primary sources with references to the most up-to-date literature in the field of Fascist studies and collective memory. The many quotes from diaries, memoirs and chronicles interact and dialogue rationally with the main works of Renzo De Felice, Emilio Gentile, Maurice Halbwachs, Jan and Aleida Assmann.
The final product is a well-written and informed essay that enables a better understanding of the origins of one of the great totalitarianisms of the twentieth century.
Of particular relevance across the three chapters of the book are the author’s considerations of the historical background, and to some extent the cultural dimensions, of the ‘fascist choice’ as it was lived, perceived and interpreted by the 64 protagonists of her research; the reflections on the use of violence by the squadristi, their disciplined corporate spirit (cameratismo) and militarist mentality; and the critical observations on the pluralistic, revolutionary and nationalist nature of the movement with specific reference to the progressive identification of an ideological and political leadership and, later, the creation of Mussolini’s regime.
Nurtured in the atmosphere of general crisis that accompanied the end of the First World War, disillusioned by the aftermath of the conflict, dissatisfied with the Versailles Peace Settlement of 1919 and unable to resume a civil life, the early fascists idealised their participation in the Great War, found in its mythologisation a key factor of aggregation and gave birth to those paramilitary groups that constituted Italian Fascism’s initial (armed) nucleus.
Belonging to a fascist squad was a deliberate, emotional and spontaneous decision that revealed a refusal to return to civil society and an intransigent opposition to the old Liberal state and its political élite. It also represented a radical response to the ‘red scare’, bolshevism and socialist non-interventionism, and an act of rebellion against the ‘hypocrisy’ and the ‘softness’ of ‘small-minded shopkeepers’ (179).
The puzzling squadrismo phenomenon, imbued also with arditismo (the spirit that had driven many young former servicemen to fight enthusiastically as volunteers in assault units during the First World War), encouraged the brutalisation of politics and, above all, forged the Fascist experience in a decisive manner. Squadrismo shaped the Fascist identity, established its political style, furnished it with a special impulse in its struggle against political adversaries and ‘internal enemies’, produced martyrs, and bequeathed a revolutionary mythology.
The early fascists, as Baldassini shows, took a special pride in violence as a badge of honour and the prerogative of every militant. The indiscriminate use of brutal force was heralded as a means of personal and national regeneration and held to represent the legitimate expression of mankind’s natural instinct for combat, conquest and destruction. Violence stood out as the essential identifying element in the mentality of the squadrista and, particularly in ex-combatants’ memoirs, was presented as a ‘natural and pleasurable continuation’ (145) of their experience in the trenches. It is no accident that the ‘punitive expeditions’, the ‘days of excursions and fights’ in Alessandro Pavolini’s definition (16), were considered patriotic, cleansing, and, like warfare, glorious.
Violence was not only a tool used in combat, in the systematic humiliation and annihilation of adversaries and in the suppression of political dissent, but it was also a specific virtue that characterised the sense of membership and social identity. As a consequence, Fascist man lived in a state of perpetual war and saw himself as the inspirer, interpreter, holder and bearer of a new morality, a new code of conduct and even a new conception of virility based on ‘courage, resourcefulness and heroism’ (63).
In the totalitarian design aimed at reshaping Italian society, the squadrista became a sort of ideal type of citizen-soldier. This model, however, risked appearing somewhat excessive, with its overtones of anarchic individualism, heroic volunteerism and disdain for the bourgeoisie, and was destined to clash with Fascism’s large-scale political ambitions. Not coincidentally, after Mussolini’s seizure of power, the auto-representation of the squadristi tended to downplay their aggressive and martial traits. This contrast, between the rebellious and radical nature of the squadristi and the Duce’s efforts to gain and hold power, was already evident in the dichotomy between the leadership of Mussolini (who had never been a squadrista) and that of the poet-soldier Gabriele D’Annunzio, and, as Baldassini concludes, resulted in a precarious equilibrium that characterised Fascism in different degrees until its final defeat.
