Mario Serandrei. Frame from Giorni di gloria. 1945. Downloaded from http://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/pdf/10.1162/octo.2009.128.1.6 by guest on 23 September 2021 Winners and Losers in Italy at the End of the Second World War* ROBERTO VIVARELLI For an Italian reader pondering the subject of defeat and perhaps wanting to extract from it a lesson that can relate to our national experience, this book by Wolfgang Schivelbusch poses some problems, and not due to an absence of historical example. There is no doubt that the war into which the Kingdom of Italy entered voluntarily, on June 10, 1940, concluded with a defeat that heavily marked the course of our history. But the very specific events in Italy between the summer of 1943 and the spring of 1945 create a disorderly picture, making it difficult to establish just who the winners and losers were. One obvious sign of this ambiguity is the fact that the final date for that chapter in history, April 25, 1943, corresponds to the end of the war in Italy and, as such, should correspond to the decisive act of defeat, but instead appears in our political liturgy as a national holiday: the anniversary of the Liberation. There are clearly good rea- sons why the date has taken on this significance, but even while the war’s end is celebrated as a victory, the fact remains that on February 10, 1947, Italy came to the Peace Conference table as a defeated power and was asked to pay the price for that defeat. Thus these events must be examined on various different levels. On the institutional level things are relatively simple. One might have doubts as to whether July 25, with Mussolini’s fall from power, corresponds in all respects to the fall of Fascism, and we shall return to this point. The symbiosis that had been established between Fascism and monarchy and the nature of those who came to political power suggest proceeding with caution. But there can be no uncertainty whatsoever about the importance and significance of September 8, 1943: a date that irrevocably marks the end of the national state that had been established in 1861, at the conclusion of the Risorgimento process. This inglorious end, which in subjective terms gave rise to the painful impression that the “death of the country” had taken place (and we have * This essay was originally published as the introduction to the Italian edition of Wolfgang Schivelbusch’s The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery (New York: Picador, 2004): La cultura dei vinti (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2006). We would like to thank the author and Paula Pecchioli of Il Mulino for kindly giving us permission to do so. OCTOBER 128, Spring 2009, pp. 6–22. © 2009 October Magazine, Ltd. and Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Downloaded from http://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/pdf/10.1162/octo.2009.128.1.6 by guest on 23 September 2021 8 OCTOBER numerous accounts of this widespread sentiment),1 is measured in factual terms by the simple observation that, beginning from that date, Italy lost its indepen- dence. Whatever political judgment one wishes to give to the two different and contrasting sides, neither of the regimes established after September 8—the Kingdom of the South and the Italian Social Republic (Bari and Salò)—was an independent state. With significant parallelism, the former was dependent on the power of the Allies, the latter on that of the Germans. The awkward attempt by Victor Emmanuel III to save not only himself, but also his throne, by simply changing his allegiance, repudiating his previous and quite serious responsibili- ties, had no possibility of succeeding. The armistice that had been hastily signed established an unconditional surrender,2 and this crushing defeat was aggra- vated by the confused and irresponsible way in which the situation was handled. The crisis inaugurated a dramatic institutional problem. At the war’s end, although the institution of the monarchy was saved, at this point a new state was being established. In the immediate void that ensued, the Church—the sole institution to which Italians indiscriminately could turn and find at least some momentary shelter—unexpectedly gained ground.3 While on the one hand the collapse of the state and the dissolution of its authority abandoned individuals to their fates, on the other hand it loosened the bond of loyalty that, until that point, had in some manner tied Italians—even those who did not identify with Fascism—to its institutions. And since September 8 did not mark the end of the war, but indeed inaugurated an even harsher and more painful period, with the battlefield now the very territory of the nation, the new situation opened up the possibility of free choice.4 No longer tied to the obligation to remain aligned with the states in which they were citizens, Italians could now assert their own political preferences, which for the most part depended on their life circumstances. This was the most immediate consequence of the dissolution of the national community. Initially it would seem that choice would have to be limited to only two sides: following the fortunes of the king and accepting the British-Americans as new allies; or remaining loyal to an alliance 1. The expression, by Salvatore Satta, was revived and disseminated by Ernesto Galli della Loggia, La morte della patria. La crisi dell’idea di nazione tra Resistenza, antifascismo e Repubblica [The death of the country: The crisis of the idea of nation between Resistance, antifascism and republic], (Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1996), a controversial essay that develops a thesis advanced in a 1992 report. 2. The most complete and well-documented reconstruction of the complex events subsequent to July 25, 1943, the negotiations with the Allies, up to the unconditional surrender, and the way that the Italian government managed the critical situation, is discussed in Elena Aga Rossi, Una nazione allo sbando. L’armistizio italiano del settembre 1943 e le sue consequenze [A nation adrift: The Italian armistice of September 1943 and its consequences], new, expanded edition, (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2003). 3. With his usual acumen, Federico Chabod emphasized this point in L’Italia Contemporanea (1918–1948) [Contemporary Italy (1918–1948)], (Turin: Einaudi, 1961), pp. 125–226. For the Catholic world’s reactions to political developments, see Renato Moro, “I cattolici italiani e il 25 luglio” [Italian Catholics and July 25], in Storia Contemporanea, XXIV, 1993, pp. 967–1017. 4. A precise and extremely well articulated picture of the situation is presented in Claudio Pavone, Una Guerra civile. Saggio storico sulla moralità nella Resistenza [A civil war: Historical essay on morality in the Resistance], (Turin: Bollati Boringhieri, 1991), Chapter 1. Downloaded from http://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/pdf/10.1162/octo.2009.128.1.6 by guest on 23 September 2021 Winners and Losers in Italy 9 with Germany, embracing the symbols of the new Fascist republic. In reality the picture immediately became less clear-cut. The forces of a waning but never- extinguished anti-Fascism were reborn from the ashes of defeat and reconstituted into parties, but only a few of these identified with the institution of the monar- chy. At the same time, in the part of Italy occupied by German troops, the majority of those who were preparing to engage in armed struggle against the Germans and their Fascist allies were gathering under the banner of anti-Fascism. This was the genesis of the composite movement collectively summarized in the term Resistance, which in some way represented a third pole, between Bari and Salò. In fact, most of those who were participating in this resistance were not impelled by a desire to align themselves with the King and his government. Moreover in that atmosphere of mistrust, uncertainty, frustration, and danger, many simply chose to not choose. As far as circumstances allowed, they preferred to remove themselves from a direct commitment to events that now, through weariness and delusion, seemed for the most part alien to the world of their own feelings. This impression of alienation was facilitated by the fact that the future of Italy, whatever side a person identified with, no longer depended at all on the Italians. After September 8, Italy’s future depended on the outcome of a war from which the Kingdom of Italy had been removed, and which was being fought in a much broader theater than that of our national territory, and in any case between foreign armies. Under these circumstances, apart from what each individual might resolve to do, the will to continue to fight that still animated a not-inconsiderable number of Italians, on one side or another, necessarily took on not so much or not only political significance, but rather and above all moral significance: the desire to bear witness. This understanding enables us to reach an initial, partial conclusion, in an attempt to resolve the question of who the losers and winners were. On a political level, to which we shall return shortly, this distinction is made on the basis of known results. It is obvious that those who, either by choice or because of fortunate circumstances, found themselves on the side of the winners, or in any case fought for the right side, opposing the barbarism of Nazism, deserved not only the approval of history, but our own commendation as well. On a moral level, that is, on a personal level, this same contraposition loses signifi- cance. The value of testimony is not measured by the quality of the cause in which one participates, but by the sincerity of the faith that animates that participation and by the honesty of one’s conduct.