It was you, dearest Italy, from whom sprang the first University of the Western world, in Bologna.
And do you remember Petrarch, Florence, the Quattrocento, Michelangelo and Raphaël Galileo, Giordano Bruno, Monteverdi and Vivaldi… You launched the Renaissance, an invaluable gift to the whole of Europe. The wondrous development of the arts, humanities and the Enlightenment, the historical foundations of the rule of law, republicanism, the development of modern science – it made them all possible.
In later centuries, you succeeded in federating powers as diverse as Milan, Venice, Turin, Genoa, Rome, Naples, Sardinia and Sicily. This unification – which came late, compared to other nations of Europe – had a “laboratory” element to it that piqued curiosity, but blended strength and fragility: the monarchy proved temporary, governments would be unstable and parties perishable, the North-South divide would never be overcome, but nor would the universal fascination with your aesthetics, the warmth of your welcome, your style of living; this fascination could be seen in the 17th century with the ‘Grand Tour’ embarked upon by young people from the upper echelons of English or continental society and can still be seen today, with millions of tourists flocking to the splendours of Rome, Tuscany and Venice.
November 1918 – October 1922: less than four years after the euphoria of Armistice, the March on Rome ushered in a new order and a key concept, a model that would spread in Europe and the world. Your great philosopher Antonio Gramsci, Marxist though he was, was forced into the regretful admission that there came a time when the masses themselves wanted fascism. Ô Italia, where were you heading?
Ventotene, June 1941: in the midst of warfare and repression, there is a new laboratory for Europe. Imprisoned on the island by the Mussolini regime, Altiero Spinelli and his friends secretly wrote a draft manifesto “For a Free and United Europe”. The text was handwritten on gossamer-light cigarette papers that were placed one by one into a small iron box that a woman managed to smuggle out to be typed up and distributed. And here, once again, you provided the innovation and the energy: for decades, thousands of Federalist activists would bear forth this new theory for the organisation of our continent. Which part of your peninsula are they hiding in today?
Having welcomed the foundation treaty in your capital city, you went on to give us great figureheads: Alcide de Gasperi, Aldo Moro, Lorenzo Natali, Carlo Ripa di Meana, Emma Bonino, Romano Prodi, Federica Mogherini… You would give a great deal to this Europe, but you would also get a lot back from it: influence with your peers and the wider world, considerable amounts of regional aid, a stable currency, and much more.
And now everything’s going wrong with you: a discredited political class; one young person in three unemployed; a deep sense of having been thrown under a bus by the rest of the Club to deal with the great migration crisis.
Imagination can fill in the gaps. 7% of the people on your soil are foreigners, but your native population believes this figure to be 25%. Bagging 18% of the votes cast in the most recent general elections, the far-right party is now reported to have more than 30% of voting intentions. Its chief is posturing like he’s already the President of the Council, promising to rid you of the “invasion of migrants”; is closing ports so that boats with their “cargoes of human flesh” (sic) are forced to go elsewhere. An admirer of Trump, a friend of Putin and Orbán, he has no time for the EU, yet is preparing for the European elections, not ruling out the possibility of standing for the Presidency of the Commission. And right at this minute, dearest Italy, your current government is threatening to stop paying its contribution to the European budget and is thumbing its nose at the common rules when drawing up its own (see EUROPE 12137).
Where are you heading? For the door, towards isolation? Are you thinking of getting together a coalition of nationalist states? On 28 October 2022, on the 100th anniversary of the March on Rome, will you be celebrating with provisions in an addendum? And is it so unlikely that one day, some senior official will decide that the very thing these idle youths need to keep them busy and build some muscle would be a ‘nice little war’?
In this climate of decay and decomposition, with a jaunty series of tweets and posts on Facebook, there are a few figures who still embody the Republican and European human rights ideal: Sergio Mattarella, the President of the Republic, Leoluca Orlando, the open-handed mayor of Palermo, and one very special migrant, Pope Francis. These few figures, but also very many brave citizens: thousands of them took to the streets of Rome last Saturday from your every corner, to protest against the ‘anti-migrant’ security decree, which has already made its way through the Senate and is certain to be adopted by the Chamber by the end of this month.
What would your great artists of recent days have made of this troubling situation: Claudio Abbado, Italo Calvino, Umberto Eco, Federico Fellini, Alberto Moravia, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Luciano Pavarotti, Luchino Visconti, and so many more? Like many others besides them, they remain the living symbols of your subtle humanity, your genius and your brilliance: will you keep faith with them?
Where are you heading, Italy?
Renaud Denuit