Italians and politics, edited by Marco Maraffi

Bologna, Il Mulino, 2007

332 pp., €26.00 (paperback), ISBN-978-88-15-11491-4

Where is the victory? Voting in 2006, described by Italians, edited by ITANES

Bologna, Il Mulino, 2006

241 pp., €13.00 (paperback), ISBN-88-15-11486-6

Left and right: Psychological roots of political differences, edited by ITANES

Bologna, Il Mulino, 2006

182 pp., €12.00 (paperback), ISBN-88-15-10911-0

‘Incomplete’ is the adjective usually used to qualify the Italian political transition that started in the early 1990s. Fifteen years is a long time in politics: as has been noted (Calise 2006, 3), political episodes that have left an indelible mark on history, such as the Nazi regime or the Napoleonic campaigns, had a similar duration. The political elections held in Spring 2006, however, showed that Italy was still not out of the woods, with a centre-left coalition prevailing over the centre-right by less than 30,000 votes in the Chamber of Deputies, while the centre-right won the larger number of Senate votes, but gained fewer seats because of the bizarre electoral system, which was forcibly introduced three months before the election. The division of seats faithfully echoed the division of the electorate into two equal parts – a division that had existed since 2001, but had been obscured by the electoral system and the mechanics of coalition formation (D'Alimonte and Vassallo 2006, p. 28). The election gave rise to two broad coalitions, both very diverse internally, and a government paralysed by the narrowness of its majority in the Senate. If it is true that Italy can now consider itself a solidly bipolar system – in fact more so than the United Kingdom, which is frequently quoted as an ideal model – it is also true that the best description of our party system is that of “fragmented bipolarism” (D'Alimonte & Vassallo 2006, 19). This is eloquently illustrated by the fall of the Prodi Government in January 2008 and the resulting record brevity of the XVth legislature, which lasted less than two years. Some 15 years on from restructuring the party system, Italian politics has not moved from the starting line, condemned to highly fragmented politics and party systems that result in instability, ungovernability and inability to reach decisions.

This article seeks to reposition the popular cinematic genre commedia all'italiana within the context of the rapid expansion of the media industries which accompanied Italy's postwar economic miracle. The article looks at three distinct aspects of the relationship between commedia all'italiana and other media. First, it outlines the important role played by the media during the boom in disseminating images of consumer lifestyles, and highlights the way in which commedia all'italiana participated in this process. Second, through a discussion of media appearances by Vittorio Gassman and Nino Manfredi, the article emphasises the extent to which their commedia all'italiana star personas were constructed and circulated in a multimedia context. Finally, it examines how the genre represented other media, focusing in particular on the representation of gender in advertising scenes. Through close readings of commedia all'italiana advertising scenes, the article notes points of continuity with and difference from advertising imagery that was circulating at the time. The article argues that in order to further our understanding of commedia all'italiana and its relationship to Italian society, it is essential to understand the genre's relationship to other media production of the period, which both influenced the comedies' representations and was influenced by them in turn.

The ‘école barisienne’ refers to a group of intellectuals, active between the end of the 1960s and the beginning of the 1980s, who brought their academic and political activity together in order to bring the cultural heritage of Italian communism up to date and to construct a new theory of the revolution. Interpreting the student movement of 1968 as the historical agent of a social and political revolution, their intention was to transform the Italian Communist Party (PCI) into a ‘partito-società’ (‘party-society’) that could take hold of the new generation’s demand for democracy and overturn the hegemony of Christian Democracy, understood as the ‘partito-Stato’ (‘party-state’). This article retraces the life of this intellectual grouping, from the education of its proponents, marked by the Southern Question as a national question, through to the demise of their project. Specifically, it examines the relationship between the research activity of the école, highlighting some significant analytical categorisation used in its historiographical output, its political activity, and the national position of the PCI.

This article contributes to the expanding body of scholarship investigating the problematic correlations between racism, the legacy of colonialism, and configurations of national and cultural identity in post-war Italy. It does so through a yet unexplored perspective: that of the attitude of Italian publishing towards literature from former colonies. More specifically, it examines the reception of anglophone Caribbean novels written by ‘Windrush writers’ in the 1950s and 1960s. The article provides evidence of how Italian agents and publishers – belonging to the country’s intellectual elite, and many of whom publicly espoused anticolonial positions – not only proved to be more interested in the exotic, picturesque contents of Caribbean literature than in its historical, ideological, and political significance, but sometimes actively opposed the circulation of texts containing anticolonial or pro-Black identity claims. Some of their comments demonstrate the persistence of racist and derogatory assumptions of an imagined black and colonial Other, and a negation of their identity as both political subjects and cultural producers, if they failed to conform to dominant expectations. The expectations and the evaluation criteria active in the reception of Caribbean novels allow for an assessment of the ambiguous attitude of Italian publishing agents towards colonialism, race, and alterity.

On 12 November 1989, three days after the fall of the Berlin Wall, Achille Occhetto, the Secretary of the Italian Communist Party (PCI), announced that the Party needed to transform itself, implicitly including changing its name. His announcement launched a 15-month-long process that culminated in the dissolution of the PCI and the rise of a new political organisation, which became a member of the Socialist International. Drawing on the individual and collective memories of former Turinese PCI officials, this essay examines the complex, tortuous abandonment of the communist reference and the disintegration of the political community surrounding the Party. Because of their highly varied reactions, the dissolution of the PCI caused fragmentation of the subsequent careers and paths of former Party ‘comrades’. To this day, the 1989 turning point continues to inspire highly diverse memories among former Italian communists.

This historiographical article will argue that the March on Rome (October–November 1922) was the end point of a serious and at that point unique insurrectionary project, which followed three intense years of Fascist violence (where the state had rarely if ever taken on the Fascists, and had often colluded passively or actively with them). It was accompanied by violence and constant threats of further violence, in Rome and across Italy. It was in no way a bluff – but also stood as a warning to all those who still imagined that Fascism could be opposed, on the streets, in parliament, or at the ballot box. The violence hit bystanders, but was also targeted at the private homes of communists, socialists and hated liberals, and at centres of urban resistance in Rome itself. This article will look in detail at the ways historians have understood the March on Rome, and systematically removed the violence from that event, ignored the March itself and played down the role of the squadristi. It will also look at the powerful role of a ‘what if’ counter-factual which has dominated most accounts of the March on Rome to date, with some recent exceptions.

Benedetto Croce’s description of fascism as ‘a moral illness of our time’ provides a useful starting point for thinking about the phenomenon of cine-revisionismo storiografico and the representation of Fascism and fascists in Italian cinema. In many films from the post-war period and beyond, the metaphor of moral illness is literalised in portrayals of fascist characters who are shown as mentally or physically sick or disabled (often confusing the two), in contrast to the otherwise healthy and wholesome body of Italians. Addressing the conflation of physical and moral impairment in three 1960 films that grapple with the memory of Italy’s Fascist past – Roberto Rossellini’s Era notte a Roma (Escape by Night), Carlo Lizzani’s Il gobbo (The Hunchback of Rome), and Florestano Vancini’s La lunga notte del ’43 (It Happened in ’43) – this article argues that in these films, bodies that do not conform to an able-bodied male norm function as lieux de mémoire that permit both the expression and containment of painful memories of the Fascist period.

Alessandro Ferrari claims that Catholicism was the only cement binding the newly unified Italy together, a country without a common language or a widespread culture capable of founding civic engagement. Taking a post-secular perspective on religion, which recognizes that religion is not simply a ‘residue’ soon to be extinguished (as Raymond Williams once stated), this article will explore Italian cinema’s contemporary constructions of this national ‘religious cement’ as a putative foundation for identity in 21st century Italy. The article sets out too to show the cracks in the cement: collective identity can only be created by ignoring religious diversity and removing thorny issues from the history of the Catholic church.

Despite its hardly enticing title (‘Making Politics Count’) and the equally uninspiring choice of topic for its plenary lecture (‘Political Science After September 11’), the 52nd Annual Conference of the Political Studies Association (PSA), hosted by the University of Aberdeen, was an apparent success: it stimulated interdisciplinar y discussion among an international audience while also providing an arena for the presentation of comparative perspectives on issues, such as European politics and devolution, which are at the forefront of academic interest.

This essay explores the 1950s as a space of cultural transition through two bodies of iconic images: Tazio Secchiaroli’s 1958 reportage of Aiché Nanà’s striptease and Franco Pinna’s documentation of the rituals of mourning during his work in Salento with anthropologist Ernesto de Martino. Produced on the eve of the miracolo economico, these images are iconic condensations of the contrasting cultural horizons defining the national imaginary of 1950s Italy. Challenging the self-containment of these images, the essay journeys outside the frames into the surrounding historical, cultural and geographical landscapes. To explore how, through photography, Italy visually negotiated the persistence of the past and the advent of modernity, the author traces a genealogy of Italian photography from political action to paparazzismo and examines the significance of the ethnographic journey to the south. Pinna’s photography and de Martino’s ethnography emerge as sites where post-war Italy faces the intractable realities of death and the return of a ‘bad’ past. The essay investigates how ritual mourning engages the photographic image to reveal an amnesiac culture of the spectacle exposing Italy’s relation to history as a modern repressed.

The Centre for the Advanced Study of Italian Society was created by Stuart Woolf at Reading University in 1966. It provided the institutional basis for close collaboration with Italian academics and politicians, many of whom participated in seminars. It attracted funding from Italy for research collaboration with Italian academics. The presence of the Centre led to donations from English antifascists of books and archives, and to the acquisition by the University Library of a major Italian private library on post-unity Italian history and culture.

Situated on the border between the capitalist West and Communist East, and with the largest Communist party in Western Europe, Italy found itself at the centre of global ideological struggles in the early Cold War years. A number of Italian writers and intellectuals who had joined the PCI (Partito Comunista Italiano) during the Resistance had hoped that the party would play a central role in the post-war reconstruction of Italy and were attracted to the Soviet Union as an example of Communism in action. This article centres on accounts of journeys to the USSR by Sibilla Aleramo, Renata Viganò and Italo Calvino. It will argue that although their writings portray a largely positive vision of the USSR, they should not be dismissed as naive, or worse, disingenuous travellers whose willingness to embrace Soviet-style Communism was based on a wholescale rejection of Western society and its values (see P. Hollander's 1998 [1981] work, Political Pilgrims: Western Intellectuals in Search of the Good Society). Rather, the article shows how their accounts of the USSR shed light on the writers' relationship with the PCI and argues that the views expressed in the travelogues emerge from the writers' personal experiences of war and resistance, a fervent desire to position themselves as anti-Fascist intellectuals, and their concerns regarding the direction that Italian politics was taking at a pivotal moment in the nation's history.

In 1886 the Abyssinian chief Debeb became a public figure in Italy as a rapacious colonial bandit. However, over the next five years he acquired additional public personas, even contradictory ones: as a condottiero ally, a ladies’ man, a traitor, a young Abyssinian aristocrat and pretender to an ancient throne, a chivalrous warrior, and a figure representing the frontier and an Africa mysterious and hidden to Europeans. Upon his 1891 death in combat, he was the subject of conflicting Italian press obituaries. For some commentators, Debeb exemplified treacherous and deceitful African character, an explanation for Italy's colonial disappointments and defeats. However, other commentators clothed him in a romanticised mystique and found in him martial and even chivalrous traits to admire and emulate. To this extent his persona blurred the line demarcating the African ‘other’. Although he first appeared to Italians as a bandit, the notion of the bandit as a folk hero (the ‘noble robber’ or ‘social bandit’, Hobsbawm) does not fit his case. A more fruitful approach is to consider his multi-faceted public persona as reflecting the ongoing Italian debate over ‘national character’ (Patriarca). In the figure of Debeb, public debates over colonialism and ‘national character’ merged, with each contributing to the other.

This article explores the trajectory of the Italian comic archetype, ‘The Opportunist’, and how it illuminates, and allows us to draws connections between, numerous junctures of modern Italian history. The caricature ‘Arlecchino’, deriving from the masked ‘types’ of the commedia dell’arte of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, is an historic exemplar of the Italian ‘everyman’ who simultaneously evades and exploits the established order in order to ‘get by’, ‘get ahead’ and survive. Filmmakers of la commedia all’italiana such as Mario Monicelli, Dino Risi and Lina Wertmuller, employed this caricature of the wily – yet ultimately harmless – petty crook in their work. They did so not in order to reinforce prejudices of Italians as self-serving and apathetic, but in order to examine what it meant to ‘survive’ 20 years of Fascism and the socio-political turmoil of post-war Italy. Examining how this caricature has historically evolved according to its ever-shifting social milieu illuminates not only certain defining moments of Italian history, but also how this archetype has contributed to popular understandings about Italy’s past and its people.

The three years 2001–03 opened in an atmosphere of optimism with the expectation of a new Italian miracle but ended amid widespread disillusion owing to persistent signs of economic decline. This article offers a reconstruction of events in this period, focusing on government economic policy and changes in the labour market. Analysis of these reveals the period to have been characterized by three significant features. In the first place, a growing loss of credibility and authority of government economic policy itself, resulting from the gap between expectations and outcomes. Second, the persistence of a model of development based on low product competitiveness and low-skilled labour. And last, the excessive attention paid to resolving the issues of the moment contrasted with a lack of interest in the future, and consequently in research, innovation, training and infrastructure.