#antonio campi

[illustratus]

Gaius Mucius Scaevola thrusting his right Hand into the Fire

by Antonio Campi

[stardustmanblue]

[gr00vyvampiregrrrl]

Vogue Nights, Friday the 13th edition from back in October 2023

[cartacei]

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

i watched conclave and now I really want to know more about all the drama with cardinals, how do you find out about that kind of stuff?

Ohhhh boy. Where to even begin?

Well, to start with, a lot of the cardinals in Conclave are based on real people! Bellini is obviously Carlo Maria Martini (right down to having a surname that's a mixed drink), especially in the book, where he's apparently Italian rather than Italian-American (I love that, unlike with Lawrence, who's also Italian in the book,* they didn't change his name; Stanley Tucci is eminently capable of playing an ItAm guy named Aldo Bellini <3). Martini was a "liberal" Archbishop of Milan who for much of the 90s was widely expected to succeed Pope John Paul II but ended up stalling out at the 2005 conclave.** Tedesco has a lot in common with Raymond Burke, an archconservative cardinal who's still alive and very vocal in the media, although Burke, conversely, is American rather than Italian. (America unfortunately has a very conservative local Catholic Church in general these days.) Tedesco and Burke even look similar, right down to the campy, "muffled sounds of 'Good Luck, Babe!' playing in the distance" fashion sense and body language. Tremblay has a similar career trajectory to Marc Ouellet, who, like Tremblay, was widely respected and seen as pretty middle-of-the-road until serious scandals started coming out. Adeyemi doesn't seem to be based on or inspired by any one real person, but the virulent homophobe who isn't that reactionary otherwise is a very common type of sub-Saharan African cardinal, perhaps most prominently represented currently by Fridolin Ambongo Besungu. Like with Adeyemi, I can see Ambongo picking up steam but then imploding over the course of the next IRL conclave, although it would be uncharitable to Ambongo to assume it would be for the same reasons. And so on.

(Benitez is an ideal, rather than someone inspired by a real person or ideological type, but there are cardinals who've had similarly high-stress and altruistic career and life trajectories, like Marco Zenari, Pierbattista Pizzaballa (which is seriously his name),*** and, in fairness to him, also Ambongo, who is Congolese and is regularly physically threatened by political and paramilitary forces within the DRC.)

As to how one learns more about this, you could start by setting news alerts for some of these people's names--Matteo Zuppi, Luis Antonio Tagle, Pietro Parolin, Peter Erdo, and Victor Manuel Fernandez are other names to potentially watch--or reading some books that have been written recently about the current politics of the Church, the Curia, and the Francis papacy. There's one called In the Closet of the Vatican that is incredibly scurrilous, as its title would suggest, but a rip-roaring read if you're not too concerned about forming possibly-unfair negative opinions of some of these guys. There are also writers like Austen Ivereigh and (gag) Edward Pentin who've made whole careers of being Vatican Inside Baseball Understanders, especially since Pope Francis was elected in 2013.****

In general I'd say Conclave is a very good representation of the way these people think and act, especially the constant tension between venal ambition and genuine belief that they are participating in a divine agency in the world. The tendency in non-Catholic and even some Catholic circles is to assume that only the former is present, but people are complicated.

I hope some of this helps, anon!

*I looked it up and in the book he's called Jacopo Lomeli. I've never seen this surname before, but apparently some real people do have it.

**The Catholic Church has its own ideological spectrum and there are ways in which liberal, progressive, conservative, etc. are not very useful terms, but for broad purposes they work here.

***Patriarch of Jerusalem, the only Palestinian cardinal (cardinals are counted as "from" the countries that they lived in when they became cardinals, not necessarily the countries they're from originally; in his case his country of origin is, unsurprisingly, Italy). As you might imagine, he's been in religious news a lot lately.

****Francis, or Jorge Mario Bergoglio as he was then, is widely believed to have been the runner-up at the above-mentioned 2005 conclave, which produced Pope Benedict XVI.

[starkidmack]

Reasons why yall need to watch Journey to Bethlehem:

The executive music producer and writer for Glee, High School Musical 3, and a bunch of successful artists is the creator of this movie

Milo Manheim continues to play only himbos

Antonio Banderas serves absolute cunt as king Herod for literally no reason

The whole movie is really so, so campy for no reason and it’s SO FUN

It’s making Christians (especially Catholics) mad

Honestly this movie healed some teeny tiny part of my religious trauma.

Please go watch it.

[ma-pi-ma]

Sappi aspettare, attendi che la marea fluisca

– così come a riva una barca – senza che il partire ti inquieti.

Quelli che attendono sanno che è loro la vittoria;

perché la vita è lunga e l’arte è un giocattolo.

E se la vita è breve

e il mare non giunge al tuo battello,

attendi senza partire e sempre aspetta,

che l’arte è lunga e, inoltre, non importa.

Antonio Machado, Consigli, da Campi di Castiglia, 1912

[evelynstarshine]

Journey to Bethlehem is a really fun Christmas movie. It's less biblically accurate than nightmare before Christmas is. Mary is a girlboss, herod is ANTONIO BANDERAS and such a campy villain, the songs are great, the 3 comic relief men are amazing. Best Christmas movie 2023

123movie it people's it's really good

[storyofthenauseouseye]

Passionate Prose From A Perverted Philosopher: Bataille’s Poetry

Most people are not familiar with the works or life of Georges Bataille. I don't blame them. I'm sure my professor is looking at this with fearful eyes, praying I'm not actually about to start a post on the Georges Bataille, the notorious anti-philosopher and writer whose works have made him rather infamous. Well, don't worry. I'm not about to make a whole post on surrealist literary fetish pornography. No, we're going to take a more muted approach and look at Bataille's key concepts and ideas through his poetry.

There are no graphic depictions of masturbating with a chicken egg here, folks. Just some twentieth-century poetry so dark it helped inspire the lyricism of the black metal genre movement (a movement that included the burning of churches and ended with the murder of some people).

Ambrogio Antonio Alciati, The Kiss, 1917.

Key Concepts

Hopping from surrealism, to eroticism, to religion, and eventually starting an occult group, Bataille's writing is anitsystematic, and it's diffiicult to categorize into a few labels. Thankfully, there are prevalent themes that shine through the messy, dark chaos that he left behind. These themes are predominantly themes of myth, pain, and social transgression (Mambrol).

The easiest way to explore those themes is to sort through the poetry of Bataille. Bataille was a surrealist, and actually was an associate of Andre Breton until Breton and he got into an argument and Bataille distanced himself from the group and the movement.

Myth

Myth is the first predominant theme in the library of Bataille.

Despite being on-and-off Christian and occultist, Bataille's swings of loving and hating God, spirituality, and the cosmic experience of existence was something he found a lot of room for. Not only did this appear in his specultaive fiction and autobiographical philosophical works, but this also appeared with the confines of his poetry.

O dead God O dead God Me I hounded you with hatred unfathomable I would die of hatred as a cloud is undone

(Bataille and Kendall, 11)

Per this untitled example, Bataille has no problems saying the kinds of things that got him in trouble in his time. His disdain for traditional myth and religious iconography is only rivaled by his own strange hypocrisy. Going in and out of different religions and spiritual seasons, Bataille would often write in favor of these myths.

"At the height of the heavens / the angels, I hear their voices, glorify me / I am, under the sun, an errant ant" (Bataille and Kendall, 13).

Here, Bataille was in a season of deep religious fervor. He felt so small to the passionate outpouring of the heavens, a glrious feeling that he would write many poems about. This love and hate relationship with mythology and relgious structures would pave the way for many of his stranger, more ethereal works.

Pain

To say Georges Bataille was emo would be to undersell his emotionally black works. The suffering and emotional torment he speaks of isn't that of a Pierce the Veil song, rather his kind of authentic pain belongs to something more in line with DSBM (depressive suicidal black metal). It doesn't come as a surprise, he practically invented the lyricism for the black metal genre as a whole.

Verses about suffering, stars, violence, galactic existentialism, nihilism, strange fetishistic imagery, Satan, and either an extreme reverance for religion, or the dismal rejection of it, this specific niche of harsh music couldn't exist without Bataille's own flavor of self hatred (Bereshith and Fas).

Take, for example, such extreme verses as

I scream at the sky that it's not me who is screaming in this lacerating thunderstorm it's not me who is dying it's the starry skies the starry sky screams the starry sky cries I fall asleep and the world is forgotten (Bataille and Kendall, 34)

As you can see, the edgelord himself, Bataille, outdoes a good amount of the goth and emo campiness. He settles for something a good bit more horrific, including depictions of murder and violent sexual content. But why? Why write poems about vehement antireligious and religious ideologies, self destructive tendiencies, gross sex, and violence? Because Bataille was a transgressive author.

Left: Deathspell Omega, Si Monvmentvm Reqvires, Circvmspice, 2004. Right: Deathspell Omega, Deathspell Omega Logo, 1998

Social Transgression

Bataille was a transgressive philosopher and artist. Despite being an antisystematic writer whose interests were scattered, it is impossible to fight the fact that he was a figure of transgression.

Transgressive art is art that defies rules, laws, expectations, or norms. It is often shocking and causes quit ethe controversy. Other examples of transgressive artists would be Marilyn Manson, Jorg Buttgereit, Marquis de Sade, Rozz Williams, and John Waters.

I won't touch upon the topic of "is shock art true art" but I will say that Bataille and others like hm went on to make quit ethe names for themselves. Although these ideas and tpics may not be that taboo to the social norms of today, it disturbed many people to read something such as

Bird's laughter filthy with blood crash of ice from teeth filth screaming vomiting head hung in horror (Bataiile and Kendall, 129).

I mean, when a dude from a band called Deathspell Omega does an interview and lists you as a reference of inspiration, you've probably said some dark stuff that caught on with a very specific crowd of people.

And if you think tat's bad, look into his novel, The Story of the Eye. I dare you.

Works Cited

Bataille, Georges, and Stuart Kendall. The Poetry of Georges Bataille. Translated by Stuart Kendall, State University of New York Press, 2018.

Bereshith, and Fas. “Interview with Deathspell Omega from AJNA Offensive.” Deathspell Omega, https://ezxhaton.kccricket.net/interview.html. Accessed 8 December 2023.

Mambrol, Nasrullah. “Key Concepts of Georges Bataille – Literary Theory and Criticism.” Literary Theory and Criticism, 2 May 2017, https://literariness.org/2017/05/02/key-concepts-of-georges-bataille/. Accessed 8 December 2023.

Further Reading

[illustratus]

The Divine Office of Massimiliano Locatelli

Architect Massimiliano Locatelli converted a 16th-century church in Milan, complete with original frescoes, an altar and a crypt, into the perfect workspace for his growing firm. San Paolo Converso, a 16th-century former church and convent in Piazza Sant’Eufemia, not far from Milan’s celebrated Duomo.

The Fresco in the background depicts The Martyrdom of St Paul by Antonio Campi

Photograph by François Halard

[turangalila]

Giaches de Wert (1535 - 1596)

Il settimo libro de madrigali a cinque voci novamento composto & dato in luce (Antonio Gardano, Venice, 1581)

– Solo e pensoso i più deserti campi

Solo et pensoso i piú deserti campi / vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti, / et gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti / ove vestigio human l’arena stampi. //

Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampi / dal manifesto accorger de le genti, / perché negli atti d’alegrezza spenti / di fuor si legge com’io dentro avampi: //

sì ch’io mi credo omai che monti et piagge / et fiumi et selve sappian di che tempre / sia la mia vita, ch’è celata altrui. //

Ma pur sí aspre vie né sí selvagge / cercar non so ch’Amor non venga sempre / ragionando con meco, et io co’llui. // [Francesco Petrarca]

– Voi volete ch’io muoia

Voi volete ch’io muoia, / E mi date dolor sì crudo e forte / Che mi conduce a morte; / Ma per vederne voi così contenta, / Mentre io moro, il morir vita diventa; / Onde vedendo, ohimè! dolente voi, / In questa vita poi / Mi vien tanto martire, / Ch’ogn’ hor giungo al morire; / E così mille e mille volte il giorno / Per voi moro, e morendo in vita torno. // [Girolamo Parabosco]

Giaches De Wert – Il Settimo Libro De Madrigali. The Consort of Musicke, Anthony Rooley. (1989, Virgin Classics Digital – VC 7 90763-2)

[pettirosso1959]

Napoli si sta sgretolando sotto il dominio comunista.

"Passo dopo passo" , disse Bassolino nel 1990, ai tempi della sua prima elezione a sindaco, l'inizio della fine della mia città.

E passo dopo passo, siamo arrivati a tutto questo.

Il degrado voluto, cercato, anelato dai comunisti per 35 anni d'inciviltà ha portato all'ingovernabilità assoluta, materiale e culturale, in una città dove la sua peggior feccia, che prima viveva rintanata in quartieri-ghetto, oggi gira libera, armata e motorizzata, per l'intero territorio cittadino, fino ad arrivare alla provincia.

La stessa Chiaja, la mia Chiaja, un tempo quartiere-salotto, oggi si è piegata alla volgarità e al malcostume delinquenziale, tanto è vero che l'assassino a sangue freddo del diciannovenne a San Sebastiano al Vesuvio, Santo Romano, dopo aver ucciso, se ne è andato sul lungomare a farsi uno Spritz, come se avesse investito un ratto, invece di aver freddato un giovane.

Vigliaccamente, con due colpi di pistola in pieno petto.

Una Chiaja che non sa più fare selezione, che non riesce a chiudersi alla teppaglia, travolta , a sua volta, dal malvezzo, dalla delinquenza, dal caos dilagante, dalla cafoneria dei suoi esercenti, che hanno ormai soppiantato quelli storici.

Non esistono più zone franche, in città.

Ovunque , rischi di imbatterti in questi pezzi di merda, il più delle volte MINORENNI, con annessa pistola o coltello , che colgono qualsiasi occasione, provocazioni comprese, per fare del male al prossimo.

E' una non-cultura giovanile nuova , questa, che parte dalla contro-cultura comunista.

Dall'esaltazione della cafoneria, del male , dell'ignoranza, del nulla concettuale, del cattivo esempio, dal Cinema (Gomorra & C.) alla musica (D'Alessio, Geolier) , il tutto con il benestare comunale e unito sotto un falso senso di "uguaglianza" sociale che non esiste e non è mai esistita, a Napoli come da nessuna parte.

Un'uguaglianza che ha portato al rimescolio, in ogni angolo della città, tra delinquenti provenienti da famiglie di delinquenti, che calano come jene da quartieri delinquenziali, che di delinquenza campano, e le persone perbene, che ci stanno rimettendo le penne come mosche.

Cosa fare ?

Fossi io a capo dell'ordine pubblico, risolverei in 48 ore.

Militarizzazione della città.

Ordine di consegnare in questura le armi, tutte le armi, entro una certa data, attraverso un ultimatum.

Perquisizione a tappeto, fisica, di tutti i partecipanti agli assembramenti urbani attraverso l'utilizzo di forze speciali di carabinieri e polizia e dell'esercito.

Cammini con la pistola ? cazzi tuoi se ti becco e guarda che ti becco, altrimenti devi solo rinchiuderti in casa, uscire non puoi.

Inasprimento delle pene, fino ad arrivare all'ergastolo, per CHIUNQUE abbia precedenti penali e venga trovato in possesso di un'arma da fuoco.

Ordine di smantellare tutti i campi ROM cittadini, dai quali proviene il 90 % delle armi di contrabbando che questi bastardi impugnano.

Ordine di responsabilizzare, attraverso la confisca di OGNI BENE, la famiglia di chi uccide.

E' impossibile che dei genitori non sappiano che il figlio di 17 anni è stato in carcere per spaccio.

E' impossibile non sapere che questi gira armato.

E' impossibile non sapere che ha preso la macchina, senza avere la patente, per andarsene in giro a farsi gli Spritz dopo aver ucciso.

E quindi i familiari DEVONO PAGARE , come i loro figli assassini.

Perché SONO dei delinquenti conclamati anche loro.

E dal loro seme può nascere solo il male.

Date Napoli a me , e io la ripulirò quartiere per quartiere, casa per casa.

Altro che Meloni, arance e mandarini.

Antonio Sabatino.

[dailyanarchistposts]

A.5 What are some examples of “Anarchy in Action”?

A.5.5 Anarchists in the Italian Factory Occupations

After the end of the First World War there was a massive radicalisation across Europe and the world. Union membership exploded, with strikes, demonstrations and agitation reaching massive levels. This was partly due to the war, partly to the apparent success of the Russian Revolution. This enthusiasm for the Russian Revolution even reached Individualist Anarchists like Joseph Labadie, who like many other anti-capitalists, saw “the red in the east [giving] hope of a brighter day” and the Bolsheviks as making “laudable efforts to at least try some way out of the hell of industrial slavery.” [quoted by Carlotta R. Anderson, All-American Anarchist p. 225 and p. 241]

Across Europe, anarchist ideas became more popular and anarcho-syndicalist unions grew in size. For example, in Britain, the ferment produced the shop stewards’ movement and the strikes on Clydeside; Germany saw the rise of IWW inspired industrial unionism and a libertarian form of Marxism called “Council Communism”; Spain saw a massive growth in the anarcho-syndicalist CNT. In addition, it also, unfortunately, saw the rise and growth of both social democratic and communist parties. Italy was no exception.

In Turin, a new rank-and-file movement was developing. This movement was based around the “internal commissions” (elected ad hoc grievance committees). These new organisations were based directly on the group of people who worked together in a particular work shop, with a mandated and recallable shop steward elected for each group of 15 to 20 or so workers. The assembly of all the shop stewards in a given plant then elected the “internal commission” for that facility, which was directly and constantly responsible to the body of shop stewards, which was called the “factory council.”

Between November 1918 and March 1919, the internal commissions had become a national issue within the trade union movement. On February 20, 1919, the Italian Federation of Metal Workers (FIOM) won a contract providing for the election of “internal commissions” in the factories. The workers subsequently tried to transform these organs of workers’ representation into factory councils with a managerial function. By May Day 1919, the internal commissions “were becoming the dominant force within the metalworking industry and the unions were in danger of becoming marginal administrative units. Behind these alarming developments, in the eyes of reformists, lay the libertarians.” [Carl Levy, Gramsci and the Anarchists, p. 135] By November 1919 the internal commissions of Turin were transformed into factory councils.

The movement in Turin is usually associated with the weekly L’Ordine Nuovo (The New Order), which first appeared on May 1, 1919. As Daniel Guerin summarises, it was “edited by a left socialist, Antonio Gramsci, assisted by a professor of philosophy at Turin University with anarchist ideas, writing under the pseudonym of Carlo Petri, and also of a whole nucleus of Turin libertarians. In the factories, the Ordine Nuovo group was supported by a number of people, especially the anarcho-syndicalist militants of the metal trades, Pietro Ferrero and Maurizio Garino. The manifesto of Ordine Nuovo was signed by socialists and libertarians together, agreeing to regard the factory councils as ‘organs suited to future communist management of both the individual factory and the whole society.’” [Anarchism, p. 109]

The developments in Turin should not be taken in isolation. All across Italy, workers and peasants were taking action. In late February 1920, a rash of factory occupations broke out in Liguria, Piedmont and Naples. In Liguria, the workers occupied the metal and shipbuilding plants in Sestri Ponente, Cornigliano and Campi after a breakdown of pay talks. For up to four days, under syndicalist leadership, they ran the plants through factory councils.

During this period the Italian Syndicalist Union (USI) grew in size to around 800 000 members and the influence of the Italian Anarchist Union (UAI) with its 20 000 members and daily paper (Umanita Nova) grew correspondingly. As the Welsh Marxist historian Gwyn A. Williams points out “Anarchists and revolutionary syndicalists were the most consistently and totally revolutionary group on the left … the most obvious feature of the history of syndicalism and anarchism in 1919–20: rapid and virtually continuous growth … The syndicalists above all captured militant working-class opinion which the socialist movement was utterly failing to capture.” [Proletarian Order, pp. 194–195] In Turin, libertarians “worked within FIOM” and had been “heavily involved in the Ordine Nuovo campaign from the beginning.” [Op. Cit., p. 195] Unsurprisingly, Ordone Nuovo was denounced as “syndicalist” by other socialists.

It was the anarchists and syndicalists who first raised the idea of occupying workplaces. Malatesta was discussing this idea in Umanita Nova in March, 1920. In his words, “General strikes of protest no longer upset anyone … One must seek something else. We put forward an idea: take-over of factories… the method certainly has a future, because it corresponds to the ultimate ends of the workers’ movement and constitutes an exercise preparing one for the ultimate act of expropriation.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, p. 134] In the same month, during “a strong syndicalist campaign to establish councils in Mila, Armando Borghi [anarchist secretary of the USI] called for mass factory occupations. In Turin, the re-election of workshop commissars was just ending in a two-week orgy of passionate discussion and workers caught the fever. [Factory Council] Commissars began to call for occupations.” Indeed, “the council movement outside Turin was essentially anarcho-syndicalist.” Unsurprisingly, the secretary of the syndicalist metal-workers “urged support for the Turin councils because they represented anti-bureaucratic direct action, aimed at control of the factory and could be the first cells of syndicalist industrial unions … The syndicalist congress voted to support the councils… . Malatesta … supported them as a form of direct action guaranteed to generate rebelliousness … Umanita Nova and Guerra di Classe [paper of the USI] became almost as committed to the councils as L’Ordine Nuovo and the Turin edition of Avanti.” [Williams, Op. Cit., p. 200, p. 193 and p. 196]

The upsurge in militancy soon provoked an employer counter-offensive. The bosses organisation denounced the factory councils and called for a mobilisation against them. Workers were rebelling and refusing to follow the bosses orders — “indiscipline” was rising in the factories. They won state support for the enforcement of the existing industrial regulations. The national contract won by the FIOM in 1919 had provided that the internal commissions were banned from the shop floor and restricted to non-working hours. This meant that the activities of the shop stewards’ movement in Turin — such as stopping work to hold shop steward elections — were in violation of the contract. The movement was essentially being maintained through mass insubordination. The bosses used this infringement of the agreed contract as the means combating the factory councils in Turin.

The showdown with the employers arrived in April, when a general assembly of shop stewards at Fiat called for sit-in strikes to protest the dismissal of several shop stewards. In response the employers declared a general lockout. The government supported the lockout with a mass show of force and troops occupied the factories and mounted machine guns posts at them. When the shop stewards movement decided to surrender on the immediate issues in dispute after two weeks on strike, the employers responded with demands that the shop stewards councils be limited to non-working hours, in accordance with the FIOM national contract, and that managerial control be re-imposed.

These demands were aimed at the heart of the factory council system and Turin labour movement responded with a massive general strike in defence of it. In Turin, the strike was total and it soon spread throughout the region of Piedmont and involved 500 000 workers at its height. The Turin strikers called for the strike to be extended nationally and, being mostly led by socialists, they turned to the CGL trade union and Socialist Party leaders, who rejected their call.

The only support for the Turin general strike came from unions that were mainly under anarcho-syndicalist influence, such as the independent railway and the maritime workers unions (“The syndicalists were the only ones to move.”). The railway workers in Pisa and Florence refused to transport troops who were being sent to Turin. There were strikes all around Genoa, among dock workers and in workplaces where the USI was a major influence. So in spite of being “betrayed and abandoned by the whole socialist movement,” the April movement “still found popular support” with “actions … either directly led or indirectly inspired by anarcho-syndicalists.” In Turin itself, the anarchists and syndicalists were “threatening to cut the council movement out from under” Gramsci and the Ordine Nuovo group. [Williams, Op. Cit., p. 207, p. 193 and p. 194]

Eventually the CGL leadership settled the strike on terms that accepted the employers’ main demand for limiting the shop stewards’ councils to non-working hours. Though the councils were now much reduced in activity and shop floor presence, they would yet see a resurgence of their position during the September factory occupations.

The anarchists “accused the socialists of betrayal. They criticised what they believed was a false sense of discipline that had bound socialists to their own cowardly leadership. They contrasted the discipline that placed every movement under the ‘calculations, fears, mistakes and possible betrayals of the leaders’ to the other discipline of the workers of Sestri Ponente who struck in solidarity with Turin, the discipline of the railway workers who refused to transport security forces to Turin and the anarchists and members of the Unione Sindacale who forgot considerations of party and sect to put themselves at the disposition of the Torinesi.” [Carl Levy, Op. Cit., p. 161] Sadly, this top-down “discipline” of the socialists and their unions would be repeated during the factory occupations, with terrible results.

In September, 1920, there were large-scale stay-in strikes in Italy in response to an owner wage cut and lockout. “Central to the climate of the crisis was the rise of the syndicalists.” In mid-August, the USI metal-workers “called for both unions to occupy the factories” and called for “a preventive occupation” against lock-outs. The USI saw this as the “expropriation of the factories by the metal-workers” (which must “be defended by all necessary measures”) and saw the need “to call the workers of other industries into battle.” [Williams, Op. Cit., p. 236, pp. 238–9] Indeed, ”[i]f the FIOM had not embraced the syndicalist idea of an occupation of factories to counter an employer’s lockout, the USI may well have won significant support from the politically active working class of Turin.” [Carl Levy, Op. Cit., p. 129] These strikes began in the engineering factories and soon spread to railways, road transport, and other industries, with peasants seizing land. The strikers, however, did more than just occupy their workplaces, they placed them under workers’ self-management. Soon over 500 000 “strikers” were at work, producing for themselves. Errico Malatesta, who took part in these events, writes:

“The metal workers started the movement over wage rates. It was a strike of a new kind. Instead of abandoning the factories, the idea was to remain inside without working … Throughout Italy there was a revolutionary fervour among the workers and soon the demands changed their characters. Workers thought that the moment was ripe to take possession once [and] for all the means of production. They armed for defence … and began to organise production on their own … It was the right of property abolished in fact …; it was a new regime, a new form of social life that was being ushered in. And the government stood by because it felt impotent to offer opposition.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, p. 134]

Daniel Guerin provides a good summary of the extent of the movement:

“The management of the factories … [was] conducted by technical and administrative workers’ committees. Self-management went quite a long way: in the early period assistance was obtained from the banks, but when it was withdrawn the self-management system issued its own money to pay the workers’ wages. Very strict self-discipline was required, the use of alcoholic beverages forbidden, and armed patrols were organised for self-defence. Very close solidarity was established between the factories under self-management. Ores and coal were put into a common pool, and shared out equitably.” [Anarchism, p. 109]

Italy was “paralysed, with half a million workers occupying their factories and raising red and black flags over them.” The movement spread throughout Italy, not only in the industrial heartland around Milan, Turin and Genoa, but also in Rome, Florence, Naples and Palermo. The “militants of the USI were certainly in the forefront of the movement,” while Umanita Nova argued that “the movement is very serious and we must do everything we can to channel it towards a massive extension.” The persistent call of the USI was for “an extension of the movement to the whole of industry to institute their ‘expropriating general strike.’” [Williams, Op. Cit., p. 236 and pp. 243–4] Railway workers, influenced by the libertarians, refused to transport troops, workers went on strike against the orders of the reformist unions and peasants occupied the land. The anarchists whole-heartedly supported the movement, unsurprisingly as the “occupation of the factories and the land suited perfectly our programme of action.” [Malatesta, Op. Cit., p. 135] Luigi Fabbri described the occupations as having “revealed a power in the proletariat of which it had been unaware hitherto.” [quoted by Paolo Sprinao, The Occupation of the Factories, p. 134]

However, after four weeks of occupation, the workers decided to leave the factories. This was because of the actions of the socialist party and the reformist trade unions. They opposed the movement and negotiated with the state for a return to “normality” in exchange for a promise to extend workers’ control legally, in association with the bosses. The question of revolution was decided by a vote of the CGL national council in Milan on April 10–11th, without consulting the syndicalist unions, after the Socialist Party leadership refused to decide one way or the other.

Needless to say, this promise of “workers’ control” was not kept. The lack of independent inter-factory organisation made workers dependent on trade union bureaucrats for information on what was going on in other cities, and they used that power to isolate factories, cities, and factories from each other. This lead to a return to work, “in spite of the opposition of individual anarchists dispersed among the factories.” [Malatesta, Op. Cit., p. 136] The local syndicalist union confederations could not provide the necessary framework for a fully co-ordinated occupation movement as the reformist unions refused to work with them; and although the anarchists were a large minority, they were still a minority:

“At the ‘interproletarian’ convention held on 12 September (in which the Unione Anarchia, the railwaymen’s and maritime workers union participated) the syndicalist union decided that ‘we cannot do it ourselves’ without the socialist party and the CGL, protested against the ‘counter-revolutionary vote’ of Milan, declared it minoritarian, arbitrary and null, and ended by launching new, vague, but ardent calls to action.” [Paolo Spriano, Op. Cit., p. 94]

Malatesta addressed the workers of one of the factories at Milan. He argued that ”[t]hose who celebrate the agreement signed at Rome [between the Confederazione and the capitalists] as a great victory of yours are deceiving you. The victory in reality belongs to Giolitti, to the government and the bourgeoisie who are saved from the precipice over which they were hanging.” During the occupation the “bourgeoisie trembled, the government was powerless to face the situation.” Therefore:

“To speak of victory when the Roman agreement throws you back under bourgeois exploitation which you could have got rid of is a lie. If you give up the factories, do this with the conviction [of] hav[ing] lost a great battle and with the firm intention to resume the struggle on the first occasion and to carry it on in a thorough way… Nothing is lost if you have no illusion [about] the deceiving character of the victory. The famous decree on the control of factories is a mockery … because it tends to harmonise your interests and those of the bourgeois which is like harmonising the interests of the wolf and the sheep. Don’t believe those of your leaders who make fools of you by adjourning the revolution from day to day. You yourselves must make the revolution when an occasion will offer itself, without waiting for orders which never come, or which come only to enjoin you to abandon action. Have confidence in yourselves, have faith in your future and you will win.” [quoted by Max Nettlau, Errico Malatesta: The Biography of an Anarchist]

Malatesta was proven correct. With the end of the occupations, the only victors were the bourgeoisie and the government. Soon the workers would face Fascism, but first, in October 1920, “after the factories were evacuated,” the government (obviously knowing who the real threat was) “arrested the entire leadership of the USI and UAI. The socialists did not respond” and “more-or-less ignored the persecution of the libertarians until the spring of 1921 when the aged Malatesta and other imprisoned anarchists mounted a hunger strike from their cells in Milan.” [Carl Levy, Op. Cit., pp. 221–2] They were acquitted after a four day trial.

The events of 1920 show four things. Firstly, that workers can manage their own workplaces successfully by themselves, without bosses. Secondly, on the need for anarchists to be involved in the labour movement. Without the support of the USI, the Turin movement would have been even more isolated than it was. Thirdly, anarchists need to be organised to influence the class struggle. The growth of the UAI and USI in terms of both influence and size indicates the importance of this. Without the anarchists and syndicalists raising the idea of factory occupations and supporting the movement, it is doubtful that it would have been as successful and widespread as it was. Lastly, that socialist organisations, structured in a hierarchical fashion, do not produce a revolutionary membership. By continually looking to leaders, the movement was crippled and could not develop to its full potential.

This period of Italian history explains the growth of Fascism in Italy. As Tobias Abse points out, “the rise of fascism in Italy cannot be detached from the events of the biennio rosso, the two red years of 1919 and 1920, that preceded it. Fascism was a preventive counter-revolution … launched as a result of the failed revolution” [“The Rise of Fascism in an Industrial City”, pp. 52–81, Rethinking Italian Fascism, David Forgacs (ed.), p. 54] The term “preventive counter-revolution” was originally coined by the leading anarchist Luigi Fabbri, who correctly described fascism as “the organisation and agent of the violent armed defence of the ruling class against the proletariat, which, to their mind, has become unduly demanding, united and intrusive.” [“Fascism: The Preventive Counter-Revolution”, pp. 408–416, Anarchism, Robert Graham (ed.), p. 410 and p. 409]

The rise of fascism confirmed Malatesta’s warning at the time of the factory occupations: “If we do not carry on to the end, we will pay with tears of blood for the fear we now instil in the bourgeoisie.” [quoted by Tobias Abse, Op. Cit., p. 66] The capitalists and rich landowners backed the fascists in order to teach the working class their place, aided by the state. They ensured “that it was given every assistance in terms of funding and arms, turning a blind eye to its breaches of the law and, where necessary, covering its back through intervention by armed forces which, on the pretext of restoring order, would rush to the aid of the fascists wherever the latter were beginning to take a beating instead of doling one out.” [Fabbri, Op. Cit., p. 411] To quote Tobias Abse:

“The aims of the Fascists and their backers amongst the industrialists and agrarians in 1921–22 were simple: to break the power of the organised workers and peasants as completely as possible, to wipe out, with the bullet and the club, not only the gains of the biennio rosso, but everything that the lower classes had gained … between the turn of the century and the outbreak of the First World War.” [Op. Cit., p. 54]

The fascist squads attacked and destroyed anarchist and socialist meeting places, social centres, radical presses and Camera del Lavoro (local trade union councils). However, even in the dark days of fascist terror, the anarchists resisted the forces of totalitarianism. “It is no coincidence that the strongest working-class resistance to Fascism was in … towns or cities in which there was quite a strong anarchist, syndicalist or anarcho-syndicalist tradition.” [Tobias Abse, Op. Cit., p. 56]

The anarchists participated in, and often organised sections of, the Arditi del Popolo, a working-class organisation devoted to the self-defence of workers’ interests. The Arditi del Popolo organised and encouraged working-class resistance to fascist squads, often defeating larger fascist forces (for example, “the total humiliation of thousands of Italo Balbo’s squadristi by a couple of hundred Arditi del Popolo backed by the inhabitants of the working class districts” in the anarchist stronghold of Parma in August 1922 [Tobias Abse, Op. Cit., p. 56]).

The Arditi del Popolo was the closest Italy got to the idea of a united, revolutionary working-class front against fascism, as had been suggested by Malatesta and the UAI. This movement “developed along anti-bourgeois and anti-fascist lines, and was marked by the independence of its local sections.” [Red Years, Black Years: Anarchist Resistance to Fascism in Italy, p. 2] Rather than being just an “anti-fascist” organisation, the Arditi “were not a movement in defence of ‘democracy’ in the abstract, but an essentially working-class organisation devoted to the defence of the interests of industrial workers, the dockers and large numbers of artisans and craftsmen.” [Tobias Abse, Op. Cit., p. 75] Unsurprisingly, the Arditi del Popolo “appear to have been strongest and most successful in areas where traditional working-class political culture was less exclusively socialist and had strong anarchist or syndicalist traditions, for example, Bari, Livorno, Parma and Rome.” [Antonio Sonnessa, “Working Class Defence Organisation, Anti-Fascist Resistance and the Arditi del Popolo in Turin, 1919–22,” pp. 183–218, European History Quarterly, vol. 33, no. 2, p. 184]

However, both the socialist and communist parties withdrew from the organisation. The socialists signed a “Pact of Pacification” with the Fascists in August 1921. The communists “preferred to withdraw their members from the Arditi del Popolo rather than let them work with the anarchists.” [Red Years, Black Years, p. 17] Indeed, ”[o]n the same day as the Pact was signed, Ordine Nuovo published a PCd’I [Communist Party of Italy] communication warning communists against involvement” in the Arditi del Popolo. Four days later, the Communist leadership “officially abandoned the movement. Severe disciplinary measures were threatened against those communists who continued to participate in, or liase with,” the organisation. Thus by “the end of the first week of August 1921 the PSI, CGL and the PCd’I had officially denounced” the organisation. “Only the anarchist leaders, if not always sympathetic to the programme of the [Arditi del Popolo], did not abandon the movement.” Indeed, Umanita Nova “strongly supported” it “on the grounds it represented a popular expression of anti-fascist resistance and in defence of freedom to organise.” [Antonio Sonnessa, Op. Cit., p. 195 and p. 194]

However, in spite of the decisions by their leaders, many rank and file socialists and communists took part in the movement. The latter took part in open “defiance of the PCd’I leadership’s growing abandonment” of it. In Turin, for example, communists who took part in the Arditi del Polopo did so “less as communists and more as part of a wider, working-class self-identification … This dynamic was re-enforced by an important socialist and anarchist presence” there. The failure of the Communist leadership to support the movement shows the bankruptcy of Bolshevik organisational forms which were unresponsive to the needs of the popular movement. Indeed, these events show the “libertarian custom of autonomy from, and resistance to, authority was also operated against the leaders of the workers’ movement, particularly when they were held to have misunderstood the situation at grass roots level.” [Sonnessa, Op. Cit., p. 200, p. 198 and p. 193]

Thus the Communist Party failed to support the popular resistance to fascism. The Communist leader Antonio Gramsci explained why, arguing that “the party leadership’s attitude on the question of the Arditi del Popolo … corresponded to a need to prevent the party members from being controlled by a leadership that was not the party’s leadership.” Gramsci added that this policy “served to disqualify a mass movement which had started from below and which could instead have been exploited by us politically.” [Selections from Political Writings (1921–1926), p. 333] While being less sectarian towards the Arditi del Popolo than other Communist leaders, ”[i]n common with all communist leaders, Gramsci awaited the formation of the PCd’I-led military squads.” [Sonnessa, Op. Cit., p. 196] In other words, the struggle against fascism was seen by the Communist leadership as a means of gaining more members and, when the opposite was a possibility, they preferred defeat and fascism rather than risk their followers becoming influenced by anarchism.

As Abse notes, “it was the withdrawal of support by the Socialist and Communist parties at the national level that crippled” the Arditi. [Op. Cit., p. 74] Thus “social reformist defeatism and communist sectarianism made impossible an armed opposition that was widespread and therefore effective; and the isolated instances of popular resistance were unable to unite in a successful strategy.” And fascism could have been defeated: “Insurrections at Sarzanna, in July 1921, and at Parma, in August 1922, are examples of the correctness of the policies which the anarchists urged in action and propaganda.” [Red Years, Black Years, p. 3 and p. 2] Historian Tobias Abse confirms this analysis, arguing that ”[w]hat happened in Parma in August 1922 … could have happened elsewhere, if only the leadership of the Socialist and Communist parties thrown their weight behind the call of the anarchist Malatesta for a united revolutionary front against Fascism.” [Op. Cit., p. 56]

In the end, fascist violence was successful and capitalist power maintained:

“The anarchists’ will and courage were not enough to counter the fascist gangs, powerfully aided with material and arms, backed by the repressive organs of the state. Anarchists and anarcho-syndicalists were decisive in some areas and in some industries, but only a similar choice of direct action on the parts of the Socialist Party and the General Confederation of Labour [the reformist trade union] could have halted fascism.” [Red Years, Black Years, pp. 1–2]

After helping to defeat the revolution, the Marxists helped ensure the victory of fascism.

Even after the fascist state was created, anarchists resisted both inside and outside Italy. In America, for example, Italian anarchists played a major role in fighting fascist influence in their communities, none more so that Carlo Tresca, most famous for his role in the 1912 IWW Lawrence strike, who “in the 1920s had no peer among anti-Fascist leaders, a distinction recognised by Mussolini’s political police in Rome.” [Nunzio Pernicone, Carlo Tresca: Portrait of a Rebel, p. 4] Many Italians, both anarchist and non-anarchist, travelled to Spain to resist Franco in 1936 (see Umberto Marzochhi’s Remembering Spain: Italian Anarchist Volunteers in the Spanish Civil War for details). During the Second World War, anarchists played a major part in the Italian Partisan movement. It was the fact that the anti-fascist movement was dominated by anti-capitalist elements that led the USA and the UK to place known fascists in governmental positions in the places they “liberated” (often where the town had already been taken by the Partisans, resulting in the Allied troops “liberating” the town from its own inhabitants!).

Given this history of resisting fascism in Italy, it is surprising that some claim Italian fascism was a product or form of syndicalism. This is even claimed by some anarchists. According to Bob Black the “Italian syndicalists mostly went over to Fascism” and references David D. Roberts 1979 study The Syndicalist Tradition and Italian Fascism to support his claim. [Anarchy after Leftism, p. 64] Peter Sabatini in a review in Social Anarchism makes a similar statement, saying that syndicalism’s “ultimate failure” was “its transformation into a vehicle of fascism.” [Social Anarchism, no. 23, p. 99] What is the truth behind these claims?

Looking at Black’s reference we discover that, in fact, most of the Italian syndicalists did not go over to fascism, if by syndicalists we mean members of the USI (the Italian Syndicalist Union). Roberts states that:

“The vast majority of the organised workers failed to respond to the syndicalists’ appeals and continued to oppose [Italian] intervention [in the First World War], shunning what seemed to be a futile capitalist war. The syndicalists failed to convince even a majority within the USI … the majority opted for the neutralism of Armando Borghi, leader of the anarchists within the USI. Schism followed as De Ambris led the interventionist minority out of the confederation.” [The Syndicalist Tradition and Italian Fascism, p. 113]

However, if we take “syndicalist” to mean some of the intellectuals and “leaders” of the pre-war movement, it was a case that the “leading syndicalists came out for intervention quickly and almost unanimously” [Roberts, Op. Cit., p. 106] after the First World War started. Many of these pro-war “leading syndicalists” did become fascists. However, to concentrate on a handful of “leaders” (which the majority did not even follow!) and state that this shows that the “Italian syndicalists mostly went over to Fascism” staggers belief. What is even worse, as seen above, the Italian anarchists and syndicalists were the most dedicated and successful fighters against fascism. In effect, Black and Sabatini have slandered a whole movement.

What is also interesting is that these “leading syndicalists” were not anarchists and so not anarcho-syndicalists. As Roberts notes ”[i]n Italy, the syndicalist doctrine was more clearly the product of a group of intellectuals, operating within the Socialist party and seeking an alternative to reformism.” They “explicitly denounced anarchism” and “insisted on a variety of Marxist orthodoxy.” The “syndicalists genuinely desired — and tried — to work within the Marxist tradition.” [Op. Cit., p. 66, p. 72, p. 57 and p. 79] According to Carl Levy, in his account of Italian anarchism, ”[u]nlike other syndicalist movements, the Italian variation coalesced inside a Second International party. Supporter were partially drawn from socialist intransigents … the southern syndicalist intellectuals pronounced republicanism … Another component … was the remnant of the Partito Operaio.” [“Italian Anarchism: 1870–1926” in For Anarchism: History, Theory, and Practice, David Goodway (Ed.), p. 51]

In other words, the Italian syndicalists who turned to fascism were, firstly, a small minority of intellectuals who could not convince the majority within the syndicalist union to follow them, and, secondly, Marxists and republicans rather than anarchists, anarcho-syndicalists or even revolutionary syndicalists.

According to Carl Levy, Roberts’ book “concentrates on the syndicalist intelligentsia” and that “some syndicalist intellectuals … helped generate, or sympathetically endorsed, the new Nationalist movement .. . which bore similarities to the populist and republican rhetoric of the southern syndicalist intellectuals.” He argues that there “has been far too much emphasis on syndicalist intellectuals and national organisers” and that syndicalism “relied little on its national leadership for its long-term vitality.” [Op. Cit., p. 77, p. 53 and p. 51] If we do look at the membership of the USI, rather than finding a group which “mostly went over to fascism,” we discover a group of people who fought fascism tooth and nail and were subject to extensive fascist violence.

To summarise, Italian Fascism had nothing to do with syndicalism and, as seen above, the USI fought the Fascists and was destroyed by them along with the UAI, Socialist Party and other radicals. That a handful of pre-war Marxist-syndicalists later became Fascists and called for a “National-Syndicalism” does not mean that syndicalism and fascism are related (any more than some anarchists later becoming Marxists makes anarchism “a vehicle” for Marxism!).

It is hardly surprising that anarchists were the most consistent and successful opponents of Fascism. The two movements could not be further apart, one standing for total statism in the service of capitalism while the other for a free, non-capitalist society. Neither is it surprising that when their privileges and power were in danger, the capitalists and the landowners turned to fascism to save them. This process is a common feature in history (to list just four examples, Italy, Germany, Spain and Chile).

[luigidelia]

ABBI CURA DELLE STELLE Ho smesso di essere ragazzo a Torre Guaceto, in Puglia, e nelle campagne intorno. Allora non sapevo che insieme a me stava crescendo qualcosa che aveva a che fare con le storie. Era una stagione libera di conversazioni con gente della terra, di passeggiate notturne tra i filari di pomodori. Li raccoglievamo al buio strada facendo per andare a cucinarli con le orecchiette a casa di Juan, un direttore d’orchestra che aveva trovato rifugio da quelle parti. Ci guidava Tonino che ha un alimentari di campagna dove ci passa il mondo. Crescevamo con i suoi ricordi di Berlino e le massime del suo libro dell’ I Ching. Avevamo grandi pene d’amore. Lui ci faceva sentire uomini navigati. Tutto era odore, salsedine e racconti.

Succedeva poi che qualcuno ci chiamava di fretta per fare una serata e accompagnare il cibo con le storie e io scrivevo di getto, poi rileggevo a Pinuccio, uno dei custodi del luogo, lui aggiungeva nomi, luoghi, soprannomi, ricordi. Rideva tanto anche lui. Passavamo pomeriggi interi sulla panca di pietra dietro al forno della sua casa bianca. La panca che dava sui campi. In quel periodo, senza saperlo, del raccontare ne stavo imparando anche il mestiere. Senza nessuna scuola se non quello che mi accadeva lì. Fuori da lì era tutto così inadeguato per me. Le prime orticarie per i pensieri, per i soldi, per la paura di non farcela ora che c’erano le figlie le ho avute lì. Il giorno che quasi prendevo un pugno in faccia ho camminato per un giorno intero senza fermarmi da Serranova, giù per gli ulivi fino ad Apani e poi lungo il mare, la torre, la spiaggia di Penna Grossa. Ricordo che una settimana dopo cominciammo a organizzare spettacoli nelle case dei contadini lì intorno. Quei primi spettacoli organizzati nelle case della gente che si prendeva così tanta cura degli oggetti, delle pareti di calce, dell’accoglienza erano un elogio della cura per me. Erano una cura per me. Abbi cura delle stelle, immaginavo che mi avesse detto mio nonno. Luigi è nato sotto le canne della palude, diceva Gianfranco. Non ricordo più chi mi ha raccontato tutto. Tutti i particolari. Il racconto di ‘ngiulina è misterioso anche a me. Il limite di questo mondo era la casa di Titina e Lino. Ricordo quando Lino mi faceva il movimento della scolopendra per farmi vedere come ballavano quelli che venivano pizzicati nella palude. Ho avuto molti doni. Sono pieno di gratitudine. Quando Titina e Lino sono volati via per altri mondi avevo già lasciato tutto questo. Una sera organizzammo uno spettacolo davanti all’alimentari di Tonino. Era di passaggio Antonio Catalano quei giorni. Un caro amico e artista. Dopo lo spettacolo ci regalò una canzone delle sue. Io lasciai il palco e andai a sedermi tra il pubblico. Lui cominciò a cantare. Io guardavo tutto quello che avevo intorno. Tutti i volti, gli alberi di quel giardino, i muri, la gente, i colleghi, le persone care, guardavo piano tutti. Arrivò una nostalgia. Era come se li guardassi dal futuro, da quella Memoria del futuro di cui parla Luis Ansa. Lì guardavo da quel giorno che ero già andato via. Lo realizzai in quel momento che stavo per andare via. Questi cinque racconti di fine estate, per me, arrivano da quel momento. Luigi D’Elia Bari, 20 ottobre 2020 ---- Luigi D’Elia voce narrante Stefano Delvecchio fisarmonica bitonica Davide Castiglia violino Giampiero Cignani clarinetto Simonetta Dellomonaco regia

[lesser-known-composers]

Francesco Antonio Urio (1631-1719) - Motteti di concerto, Op. 1: Ego flos campi ·

Orchestra Barocca di Cremona · Giovanni Battista Columbro ·

Marcella Di Garbo

[giancarlonicoli]

26 lug 2023 10:15

IL DUCE SI’, IL DUCE NO, SE FAMO DU’ SPAGHI? I FASCISTI ODIAVANO LA PASTA PERCHÉ RAMMOLLIVA LO SPIRITO, DAVA SONNOLENZA ED ERA UNA MODA IMPORTATA DALL’AMERICA. INOLTRE NON ERA FUNZIONALE AL PROGETTO AUTARCHICO. PER QUESTO SECONDO LA VULGATA PARTIGIANA LA PASTA E’ ANTIFASCISTA E OGNI 25 LUGLIO, ORMAI DA 80 ANNI, IN TUTTA ITALIA SI CUCINA, SI MANGIA E SI CELEBRA LA PRIMA SPAGHETTATA ANTIFASCISTA OFFERTA DAI SETTE FRATELLI CERVI ALLA COMUNITÀ DI CAMPEGINE, A REGGIO EMILIA, PER FESTEGGIARE LA FINE DELLA DITTATURA FASCISTA E LA DEPOSIZIONE DI BENITO MUSSOLINI – IL CASO ESPLOSO IN PROVINCIA DI VICENZA CON LA SINDACA CHE... -

Estratto da wired.it

I fascisti odiavano la pasta. Spaghetti, tagliatelle e maccheroni finirono al confino come Altiero Spinelli, Antonio Gramsci e Sandro Pertini. Per questo la pastasciutta è antifascista. E ogni 25 luglio, ormai da 80 anni, in Italia si cucina, si mangia e si celebra la prima pastasciutta antifascista, offerta dai sette fratelli Cervi alla comunità di Campegine, a Reggio Emilia, per festeggiare la fine della dittatura fascista e la deposizione di Benito Mussolini, avvenuta in quella stessa data nel 1943.

La famiglia Cervi

La famiglia Cervi era una famiglia di contadini benestanti. Il signor Alcide, padre dei sette fratelli, era riuscito ad emanciparsi dalla condizione di mezzadro assieme alla moglie Genoveffa e a prendere un podere in affitto a Gattatico, vicino Campegine, nel 1934. Lì costruirono la loro vita, lavorando la terra assieme a Gelindo, Antenore, Aldo, Ferdinando, Agostino, Ovidio ed Ettore.

Ma i Cervi erano molto più che semplici contadini. Erano antifascisti. 

(...)

Fu quindi naturale e immensa la gioia che li pervase la sera del 25 luglio 1943, quando tornando dai campi scoprirono che il dittatore Mussolini era stato deposto, arrestato e confinato in Abruzzo dalla monarchia sabauda. Era tempo di festeggiare e mettere fine anche a quella fame che il fascismo aveva regalato a tutto il paese per 20 anni.

Prima degli anni Cinquanta e della diffusione della produzione industriale, l’Italia è sempre stato un paese di persone malnutrite e affamate, che mangiavano male e morivano presto. 

(...)

Gran parte delle persone mangiava solo polenta, a nord, e pane, al sud. Niente pasta, che tra l’altro è molto più nutriente, perché ai fascisti non piaceva. 

(...)

Così, è facile immaginare perché i fratelli Cervi decisero di dare una festa e cucinare quintali di pasta al burro e parmigiano per festeggiare la fine del fascismo. Una pastasciutta antifascista, la prima, che venne cucinata a Gattatico e poi trasportata a Campegine. Nel tragitto la pasta divenne completamente scotta e, nel frattempo, gli altri contadini e contadine cominciarono a rubacchiarne un po’ per placare i morsi della fame. Un’avventura.

(...)

Postilla: perché i fascisti odiavano la pastasciutta?

Come insegna il sociologo Marco Cerri nel suo libro La pastasciutta dei Cervi, i motivi sono tre. Il primo riguarda il progetto autarchico, perché la pasta si fa col grano e per raggiungere l’autosufficienza cerealicola bisognava consumare poco grano. Il secondo è propagandistico e nasce dai futuristi. Tommaso Marinetti e gli altri si scagliarono contro la pasta dicendo che rammolliva lo spirito, dava sonnolenza e portava al neutralismo, cioè ad essere contrari alla guerra.

Infine, l’ultimo riguarda la logica del ruralismo fascista, che additava la pasta come una moda importata dall’America. Fino agli anni Trenta del Novecento, la pasta era un alimento consumato quasi esclusivamente a Napoli e praticamente sconosciuto nel resto d’Italia. Furono i migranti tornati dagli Stati Uniti a darle nuova vita, dato che tra le comunità italiane d’oltreoceano era un alimento estremamente diffuso.

Fu quindi il sentimento anti statunitense dei fascisti, unito ai problemi economici e alla propaganda futurista che portarono il regime a combattere una guerra contro la pasta, tanto che nei suoi primi anni il consumo pro capite era di appena 12 chili l’anno, ridotto ai 9 durante la guerra. Mentre già nel 1954 ci fu un balzo a 28 chili l’anno, stabilizzatosi poi agli attuali 23 a testa.

Per questo, ancora oggi, la pastasciutta resta un simbolo dell’antifascismo. E quest’anno, a 80 anni dalla fine della dittatura, il 25 luglio 2023 verranno cucinate 220 pastasciutte antifasciste in tutta Italia, come annuncia l'Associazione nazionale partigiani d'Italia. Per ricordare i fratelli Cervi, la loro generosità e l’antifascismo su cui si fonda la Repubblica italiana, nonostante qualcuno provi a farcelo dimenticare.