Mussolini in Myth and Memory: The First Totalitarian Dictator (Oxford University Press) by Paul Corner
The United States is not the only democracy flirting with the idea of destroying itself. Russians, Romanians, Italians – people from all over the world are falling back in love with dictators and dictatorships they fervently rejected not too long ago. Joseph Stalin, declared a criminal by his successors, is now being depicted alongside Vladimir Putin as a strong, feared leader. Nicolae Ceaușescu, who upon his arrest was executed as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t be lynched by his own followers, was remembered favourably by 65 per cent of Romanians, according to a 2018 survey. Even Benito Mussolini, whose mutilated body was hung upside down at the Piazzale Loreto in Milan, somehow managed to gain the sympathy of the children and grandchildren of the Italians who celebrated his death.
How did we get here? Using Italy as a case study, Paul Corner’s Mussolini in Myth and Memory argues it all comes down to collective memory, the way it forms and is manipulated. Faced with problems like economic recession, political instability and changing social norms, people seek refuge in “phantom utopias”: augmented versions of the past in which memories of violence and suppression are themselves suppressed. Corner builds on ideas introduced by Russian sociologist Lev Gudkov (“Soviet ideological slogans get reborn in the mass consciousness, but are mistaken for a reality – a phantom utopia – that never existed”) and filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini (“We are a country without memory, which is like saying without history. Italy removes its recent past… keeping only those memories, those fragments that might be useful for its contortions, its conversions”) to create an original, insightful study of the 20th century and its aftermath.
Each chapter identifies a popular misconception about Mussolini’s rule, discerns the purpose it serves in present-day Italy and gathers historical evidence to show why it is incorrect. Examples include: Mussolini made the trains run on time; Mussolini destroyed the mafia; siding with Nazi Germany was Mussolini’s one key mistake; and Mussolini alone bears responsibility for Italy’s actions before and during the Second World War. The notion that Mussolini reduced crime betrays frustration with the slow-moving administration of justice in bureaucratic democracies, just as the belief that Mussolini introduced pensions is rooted in financial insecurity. In truth, writes Corner, there is no evidence to suggest he made Italy less criminal, and while his regime did extend pensions, the foundations of those systems were put in place long before he rose to power. The misconception that Mussolini is responsible for Italy’s actions is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it absolves Italians from the guilt of the war crimes they committed. On the other, it reinforces the image of Mussolini as all-powerful.
Corner admittedly focuses more on the past than the present – a bit disappointing considering the book’s title promises readers they will learn how the former is contained in the latter. Instead of merely reframing the work of other historians, it would have been fitting to see him devote a bit more time and energy to those aspects that make Mussolini in Myth and Memory unique. But popular opinion on Mussolini – or any other subject – is difficult to pin down without resorting to surveys and statistical research, which would have slowed the book’s arresting pace.
If you want to get a better understanding of the rise, fall and persistence of fascism, this is a good book to start with. Corner’s central theme of collective memory and phantom utopias gives the reader a theoretical framework through which to organise information provided by other, more conventional studies. Corner, who served as the director of the Centre for the Study of Totalitarian Regimes in Siena, is doing more than fact-checking fake news. His is a study of how fake news – for lack of a better term – enters the world and warps it accordingly.
This piece is from the New Humanist summer 2023 edition. Subscribe here for access to the full magazine.
