Can we found the Republic on a lynching? ? This is the question that Sergio Luzzato asks about the cumbersome corpse of Mussolini, whose execution in April 1945 was staged by the resistance but the relics recovered by those nostalgic for fascism.
It is one of the founding myths of the Italian Republic: the bodies of Benito Mussolini, his mistress Clara Petacci and several of the most important hierarchs of the regime are exposed, hung upside down on the Loreto esplanade, at Milan. Through this staging, the victors assert their victory by exposing the remains of the Duce to the vindictiveness of the crowd. Breaking the charismatic link that existed between the leader – presented as a superman – and the Italian people, the resistance fighters intend to put a symbolic end to the fascist experience. From this fundamental episode in contemporary Italian history, where the transfer of sovereignty takes place between the regime which has just fallen and the republic which is to be born, Sergio Luzzatto develops a multiform study which touches on the charismatic dimension of the Duce but also to the fractures that run through post-war Italian society.
The author, initially a specialist in the modern period, has recently become interested in certain myths of contemporary Italy, studying them from an original angle, always combining political, social and cultural study. He continues his research here, proposing to write the history of the body of Benito Mussolini, both alive – it then constitutes a means of arousing support – and dead, when memory struggles take place around the corpse. This stimulating work, very well received in Italy, effectively analyzes the fractures in post-war Italian society while offering an innovative point of view on the charismatic dimension of Mussolini’s power.
After a first chapter devoted to the Fascist period, the book retraces the journey of the Duce’s remains in Republican Italy, from his death in April 1945 until his burial in his hometown of Predappio after the Italian state had returned the body to the family in 1957. Initially buried in an anonymous grave, the body of Benito Mussolini was first stolen, in 1946, by a fascist commando who wanted to give him a Christian burial. Once found, the Italian state hid him for eleven years, not knowing what to do with this cumbersome corpse. This bruised body, hidden, stolen, then venerated like a relic is “ semantically overloaded ” and poses a major problem for the young Italian republic: how can we transform a historical reality which divides Italians, into a “ inclusive and shared founding myth » ?
A precedent: Giacomo Matteotti
At the heart of the first part of the book is the charismatic dimension of Mussolini, which still gives rise to numerous studies. What Sergio Luzzatto shows is that the staging of the Loreto esplanade appears necessary in the eyes of the resistance fighters, in order to of “ cancel the terms of the charismatic pact between Mussolini and the Italians “. The public exhibition of the defeated and tortured body thus makes it possible to dissolve the cult of the superman. This episode marks the beginning of disenchantment with the chef’s extraordinary qualities. Luzzatto studies the spread of rumors which multiplied around Mussolini’s physical debility: some present him as suffering from syphilis while others affirm that he died exhausted by the devouring sexual demands of his mistress.
Drawing on the analyzes that the philosopher Giorgio Agamben proposed about the “ politicization of bare life », Sergio Luzzatto draws an enlightening parallel between Benito Mussolini and Giacomo Matteotti. The latter, a socialist deputy assassinated by fascists in 1924, is the symbol of the authoritarian and violent turn of the regime. Very early on, he was the object of devotion from anti-fascists who likened him to an apostle. The question of Matteotti’s body is also central: it is only found after several weeks and is the subject of all speculation. Matteotti’s body appears as the powerless double of the triumphant body of the Duce: rumor has it that he was emasculated and certain fascists are said to have chanted “ From the flesh of Matteotti we will make sausages “.
This initial parallel shows that the body of Mussolini, venerated in the post-war period by neo-fascists, was not the first to be celebrated as a political relic. Likewise, the war of memories which largely constitutes the subject of the book does not only have its source in the assassination of Mussolini, but well before, because as the journalist Ugo Ojetti wrote, there were two symbolic deaths, that of Matteotti and that of Mussolini, which divided Italy between “ those who mourn the death of one and those who mourn the death of the other “.
“ Piety versus piety »: two competing memories
The Loreto esplanade became, in the years following the end of the war, a real place of memory. The opponents of anti-fascism do not hesitate to highlight the cruelty of the crowd who beat the corpse and subjected it to numerous abuses. Very early on, the public display of Mussolini’s body became a political issue. This staging, although deemed necessary by the Resistance to symbolize the transfer of power from the Duce to the nascent Republic, quickly appears to be a shameful foundation for the latter. Luzzatto thus underlines how the trade in photos taken on the esplanade scandalizes quite a few anti-fascists to the point of gradually becoming a taboo in the resistance’s discourse. Little by little, the anti-fascist press even imposes the idea that the people marched, with dignity, in front of the deceased leader, without any excess.
Around the odyssey of Mussolini’s body there is also the memorial competition between the two Italys: the one which claims to be based on the corpse of Matteotti and the one which pays homage to the Duce. Sergio Luzzatto shows how, in the years following the Liberation, the logic of the anti-fascists was binary and extremely Manichean. Thus, Italo Calvino, himself a resistance fighter, believes that it is vain to bow before the tomb of those who are against them “ the reasons for the story “. This conception, which prevailed at first, ebbed rather quickly: firstly because the Christian Democratic government sought to marginalize the Communist Party which, as in France, profited from its resistant activity but also because a large part of Italy claims the right to honor its dead, even if they were supporters of the Republic of Salò.
It is in this context that Domenico Leccisi, the man who kidnapped the Duce’s remains in 1946 before defeating the Italian police for nearly a hundred days, leaves prison and explains his exploit. The tabloid newspapers are quick to open their columns to him so that he can tell about his journey and talk about the remains of the Ducethen hidden by the State to avoid further misadventures. Unsurprisingly, Leccisi insists on the excellent state of conservation of the remains, the absence of decomposition of the body attesting to the holiness.
The last part of the book shows how spectacular the reversal is: at the beginning of the 1950s, more concerned with anti-communism than with anti-fascism, Christian democracy did not oppose the strong return of fascist folklore to the point that according to Sergio Luzzatto , the culture of anti-fascism becomes a minority. The role of the Church is fundamental for him in this turnaround. On this point, the Italian historian is particularly convincing: he shows how the three faults which marred Mussolini’s death are gradually transformed into sin by the Church and are thus destined to be forgiven. At the time of Mussolini’s death, the resistance insisted on three points: Mussolini had betrayed Italy – he was arrested disguised as a German soldier, fleeing to Switzerland – ; demonstrated questionable morality – he fled with his mistress, abandoning his lawful wife – ; stole the homeland – he took with him the gold from the Bank of Italy. However, the Church, in the words of Luzzatto, “ proposed to play the role of national chaplain and fueled a culture of generalized atonement, seeking not only to reconcile private pain and public mourning but also to confuse individual responsibilities and collective faults “. Based on the tormented history of the body of Duceshot, exposed, mistreated, buried, stolen then hidden by the State, Catholic mercy tended to encourage clemency. This version finds a favorable echo in the part of the population who considers anti-fascist culture guilt-inducing. Through the example of Mussolini, we seek to rehabilitate a part of the Italians favorable to the regime. Luzzatto highlights how the fate of Duce and that of millions of Italians are linked: to forgive Mussolini the sins of his flight – the German uniform, the gold of the Bank of Italy, his mistress – is to forgive the faults of the regime: the Nazi ally , corruption, double morals. “ And forgiving him the faults of the regime was equivalent to forgiving himself for a fascist past “.
A past that does not pass
This process necessarily leads to reopening the debate around Mussolini’s remains. After eleven years of secret burial, Christian Democratic leaders plan to return the body to the family. It is a question of trying to close a painful chapter in Italian history but also of giving assurances to the neofascist party whose external support became, at the end of the 1950s, necessary to maintain the government. It was finally in 1957 that the Duce’s body was buried in his hometown of Predappio, not without triggering demonstrations of support and opposition, sometimes violent. This shows, more than ten years after the end of the war – but this observation still holds true today – the “ persistent readiness of Italians to mobilize in the name of competing elaborations of collective mourning “.