Fascism and the Italian Ethos

Giorgia Meloni: An Orwellian Perspective

My introduction to Giorgia Meloni came on Monday, when I saw a two-minute excerpt from a speech¹ circulating on Twitter. The clip contained the concluding statements of the speech, in which Meloni, calmly and collectedly, summarizes a political mission. She proclaims that the family values, the religious and cultural values, and in essence, the entire identity of the Italian people is under attack. The reasoning for this: that an unspecified “they,” (implicitly referring to her dissenters, presumably the “Left”) want to turn the Italian people into “perfect consumer slaves.” She declares that Italians will not be slaves, will not fall prey to the “financial speculators” that wish to control them. She ends the speech with a quote from British writer G.K. Chesterton:

“Fires will be kindled to testify that two and two make four. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer.”

Initially, I responded positively. Meloni seemed like a breath of fresh air, exactly the sort of politician that today’s world needs. She seemed to represent freedom and individuality—two things that seem to be under attack in today’s world. She seemed a moral politician amongst a sea of corruption. Of course, I failed at that moment to realize that these final two minutes of the speech were preceded by a lengthy segment of passionate yelling in the vein of Hitler and Mussolini, and that the tactics which drew me in were the same tactics which have, historically, persuaded every enthusiastic victim of totalitarian rule: scapegoating, the promise of a better future, with just enough truth thrown in the mix to feign credibility. I momentarily forgot what is perhaps my most steadfastly-held assertion: that you can never trust a career politician.

During the eighteen or so hours when I was optimistic about Giorgia Meloni, the speech immediately reminded me of George Orwell’s essay “The Lion and the Unicorn: Socialism and the English Genius.”² What reminded me of this was her statements about the preservation of identity—identity is certainly worth preserving, a sentiment that I believe Orwell would agree with. In “The Lion and the Unicorn,” Orwell makes the assertion that, when most of Europe was falling into totalitarian rule, it was Britain’s national identity that ultimately safeguarded the British people from the worst of totalitarianism. The idea of freedom was deeply ingrained in the British mindset; people believed that they were autonomous and free, even though this wasn’t completely true. It did not matter that Britain had been ruled by a monarchy forever, or that the gap between the upper and lower classes was wider than any other country. It did not matter that freedom of the press was a de facto myth, or that the justice system was rigged in favor of the rich. The British people believed themselves to be free, believed that they could do whatever they wanted and say whatever they wanted, that hard work resulted in fair play, that criminals would be justly punished and that the innocent would be justly protected. And, while on some level they must have been aware that these assertions were thinly veiled lies, as long as they believed themselves to be free, there were certain atrocities that could not happen in England. Freedom of the press was limited in practice (only certain prevailing orthodoxies had any hope of being published by the British media), but as long as freedom of speech was a maxim of the English cultural identity, people could not be prosecuted for something that they had written. As long as there was an expectation of law and order, the justice system couldn’t go fully corrupt, imprisoning and executing political dissidents without trial. Such things were tolerated elsewhere in Europe (albeit not always happily), but they could not happen in England.³

Orwell explains that, while the British people did not necessarily benefit from the actions of their government, the British government never actually strayed very far from public opinion. This is not as contradictory as it seems. Governments are able to get away with exactly as much as their people let them get away with. The English people were silently accepting of the injustices that they faced, at least enough to continue living their lives without making too much of a fuss about them. In their disinterest in resisting the government, the people communicated that their will was to keep everything the same. And their government delivered—there was an unspoken, unrealized agreement that both groups would essentially leave one another alone. Interestingly, this worked to their advantage. As long as they remained complicit, as long as they remained indifferent to what was going on around them, they were not dangerous to the ruling class. Why bother harshly policing a population that is not speaking out against you?⁴ Of course, Orwell goes on to state that the antiquated British system of rule was unsustainable, that they would eventually have to adopt some sort of controlled economy in order to keep up with the efficiency of the totalitarian regimes that were popping up. I am not yet confident in my opinion of whether this was true. What I amcertain of, though, is that the lengths to which totalitarian leaders go in order to censor speech is proof that public opinion matters, everywhere. Before one can control a crowd, they must gain their favor.

Orwell uses the rather vivid example of the goose-step: a uniform, ostentatious display of military power. It was embraced in Germany and in Italy, but was not used in England. Why? “[B]ecause the people in the street would laugh. Beyond a certain point, military display is only possible in countries where the common people dare not laugh at the army.” The goose-step is a strange sight. The walk would look absolutely ridiculous if done in any other context, but done in complete uniformity by a crowd of stone-faced men with guns, it is eerie. It is a performance not only of machismo, but of complacency—one can imagine Hitler and Mussolini smirking from their pedestals at the sight of thousands of people doing this absurd march in complete unison. How powerful they must have felt. That type of choreography could only exist in a completely subservient population.

Of course, all armies march in unison, the British army included. Orwell is not claiming that miliary subservience is something unique to Fascism. However, he maintains that the character of the march is what provides insight into the nature of a government’s rule, that it is “a rapid but fairly sure guide to the social atmosphere of a country… a kind of ritual dance, something like a ballet, expressing a certain philosophy of life.” The British army’s march, for example, was more subdued, less aggressive. Despite the fact that every soldier marches in unison, their march looks downright informal compared to the Germans, who seem to be making a show of their eager conformity.

One need only compare these videos to see Orwell’s point:

In the British army the drill is rigid and complicated, full of memories of the eighteenth century, but without definite swagger; the march is merely a formalized walk. It belongs to a society which is ruled by the sword, no doubt, but a sword which must never be taken out of the scabbard.

Notice, too, the crowds. The British wave their arms, yell their support. The Germans are still, silent.

The kind of complacency achieved in Hitler’s Germany cannot be achieved overnight, no matter how belligerent a dictator takes power. It is not possible for one person to compel a whole nation’s actions through brute force alone—the crowd outnumbers them. They must be persuaded, at least until the point when the leader’s adherents outnumber their dissenters. There must be an element of fear, for sure, but it must be an unconscious fear. They cannot know that they are being manipulated. This is the true horror of totalitarianism: that its citizens do not know that they are in a totalitarian state, at least until it is too late.

Consider the opening sentences of “The Lion and the Unicorn”:

“As I write, highly civilized human beings are flying overhead, trying to kill me.

They do not feel any enmity against me as an individual, nor I against them. They are ‘only doing their duty’, as the saying goes. Most of them, I have no doubt, are kind-hearted law-abiding men who would never dream of committing murder in private life. On the other hand, if one of them succeeds in blowing me to pieces with a well-placed bomb, he will never sleep any the worse for it. He is serving his country, which has the power to absolve him from evil.”

The feeling that one is acting in service of something bigger than oneself is enough to cause a person to feel justified in committing the greatest of atrocities. Their group identity absolves them from personal responsibility—an action cannot be evil if everyone else is doing it. Even something such as murder, considered the gravest of sins in everyday life, can become in someone’s mind a noble act if it is done in service of a greater good. It is for this reason that Orwell writes:

“One cannot see the modern world as it is unless one recognizes the overwhelming strength of patriotism, national loyalty… Hitler and Mussolini rose to power in their own countries very largely because they could grasp this fact and their opponents could not.”

Hitler and Mussolini gained control by making their people adore them. They portrayed themselves as the voice of the common people, preaching to countries which were in shambles. This regimented group identity was touted as a solution to the problems that they faced. When Mussolini took power in Italy in 1922, and when Hitler took control of Germany in 1933, the conditions were the same. They were both preaching to war-torn countries with angry, desperate populations. A strong, iron-fisted ruler was attractive to these populations, who were frustrated with the governments that had failed them. And these clever leaders told them everything that they wanted to hear. They were told that strength and dignity would be returned to their countries, that their leaders were working for them, the common people, not for foreign countries, rich oligarchs, or any other scapegoats that the public had been conditioned to hate. With this in mind, Meloni’s speech loses the prideful, individualistic allure reminiscent of “The Lion and the Unicorn” and instead reeks of a sort of sneaky treachery that may be more aptly compared to Orwell’s essay “Notes on Nationalism.”

It is not possible for one person to compel a whole nation’s actions through brute force alone—the crowd outnumbers them. They must be persuaded, at least until the point when the leader’s adherents outnumber their dissenters.

“Nationalism” is a word that gets thrown around a lot, and is akin to words like “fascism” and “democracy” in the fact that its misuse has become so common that it ceases to have much meaning at all,⁵ aside from their vague connotations of some type of negatively-charged patriotism. In the essay, Orwell describes nationalism as follows:

“By “nationalism” I mean first of all the bit of assuming that human beings can be classified like insects and that whole blocks of millions or tens of millions of people can be confidently labelled “good” or “bad.” But secondly—and this is much more important—I mean the habit of identifying oneself with a single nation or other unit, placing it beyond good and evil and recognizing no other duty than that of advancing its interests.”

Orwell asserts that a “nationalist” need not be someone with an allegiance to a particular nation. He gives several examples of nationalist movements whose allegiance is not to any particular country, or even any particular political movement: “Communism, political Catholicism, Zionism, Antisemitism, Trotskyism and Pacifism…Jewry, Islam, Christendom, the Proletariat and the White Race.” He even makes the claim that some nationalists do not adhere themselves to any one ideology, but simply hold themselves in opposition to another ideology with nationalistic fervor. Orwell gives the example of “Trotskyists who have become simply the enemies of the USSR without developing a corresponding loyalty to any other unit.” An example from today’s world might be someone who has not taken any leaps in support of right-wing politics, but are vocally and indiscriminately critical of left-wing ideology.

According to Orwell, what unifies all nationalists is an obsession with their group identity of choice, a preoccupation with this group’s strength and superiority relative to other groups, and a steadfastness to these ideas that is so strong that it borders on delusional. Nationalists are so convinced in their group’s superiority that they are willing to contradict their own logic, deny reality, and even distort history in favor of their agenda. In the essay, Orwell mentions G.K. Chesterton: the man who Giorgia Meloni quoted at the end of her speech. Chesterton was a large influence on Orwell’s own writing—it seems clear that Orwell was an admirer of his, at least his earlier works (such as the one that Giorgia Meloni quoted). And, in the latter part of his life, Chesterton was a Catholic nationalist. Throughout his life he was a staunch supporter of democracy, freedom of speech, and freedom of the press in England. Simultaneously, he supported Mussolini, who attacked each of these things. Due to his nationalism, Chesterton was able to reconcile these contradictory opinions.

Nationalism is the ultimate form of identity politics, the ultimate “us versus them” mentality. It may very well be coded into our DNA—Orwell notes in the essay that every person exhibits nationalistic tendencies to some extent. We all thirst for a group identity, some type of force greater than ourselves in which to strive for. Religions have historically served this purpose (and recall all of the atrocities committed in the name of Christ). In an increasingly secular world, it is common for this desire to be fulfilled in the service of tyrants. It may be an illustration of our tribal, warlike tendencies—nationalists are often very preoccupied with military victory, after all, and, once they pick a side, they hold to it fervently, prioritizing above all that their side win and their opponents’ lose.⁶

This type of thinking seems to be inevitable. We are so prone to it. This is probably why the platitude: “history repeats itself” tends to prove itself right, over and over and over and over again. Nationalism seems to be our knee-jerk response to difficult times. Totalitarians understand this tendency, and exploit it. This is the tactic that unifies the Communists and the Fascists, the tyrants of every color and the revolutionaries who oppose them. They peddle half-truths, promise simple solutions to treacheries of the past. Their intentions are apparently noble, their demeanor hubristic. They may even believe what they are saying. Yet, beneath their differing slogans and ideologies, their motivation is always the same: power.

Is there really such a difference between Fascism and Socialism, then, if their ends are ultimately the same? In “The Lion and the Unicorn,” Orwell defines both terms:

“Socialism is usually defined as ‘common ownership of the means of production’. Crudely: the State, representing the whole nation, owns everything, and everyone is a State employee. This does not mean that people are stripped of private possessions such as clothes and furniture, but it does mean that all productive goods, such as land, mines, ships and machinery, are the property of the State. The State is the sole large-scale producer…

However, it has become clear in the last few years that ‘common ownership of the means of production’ is not in itself a sufficient definition of Socialism. One must also add the following: approximate equality of incomes (it need be no more than approximate), political democracy, and abolition of all hereditary privilege, especially in education. These are simply the necessary safeguards against the reappearance of a class-system.”

“Fascism, at any rate the German version, is a form of capitalism that borrows from Socialism just such features as will make it efficient for war purposes. Internally, Germany has a good deal in common with a Socialist state. Ownership has never been abolished, there are still capitalists and workers, and—this is the important part, and the real reason why rich men all over the world tend to sympathize with Fascism—generally speaking the same people are capitalists and the same people workers as before the Nazi revolution. But at the same time the State, which is simply the Nazi party, is in control of everything. It controls investment, raw materials, rates of interest, working hours, wages. The factory owner still owns his factory, but he is for practical purposes reduced to the status of a manager.”

Their goals seem similar—state control over the economy. They are only packaged differently. In fact, based on these definitions, the only real difference between the two seems to be Orwell’s assumptions of each dictator’s character.

“Socialism aims, ultimately, at a word-state of free and equal human beings. It takes the equality of human rights for granted. Nazism assumes just the opposite. The driving force behind the Nazi movement is the belief in human inequality, the superiority of Germans to all other races, the right of Germany to rule the world.”

Orwell believed this to be a significant distinction—one that made Socialism noble and Fascism immoral. However, bearing the gift of hindsight, a modern person should see that the only difference is in their Party slogans. The structure of these governments are the same. It has long puzzled me how Orwell could have self-identified as a Socialist while simultaneously understanding the extent to which power corrupts those who acquire it. The only explanation is that Orwell himself exhibits the very nationalistic hypocrisy that he criticizes in “Notes on Nationalism” (and in his masterpiece Nineteen Eighty-Four). It is ironic that Orwell falls into the very trap that he warns against. Believing that a government with near-absolute power will limit corruption, he holds two contradictory beliefs at once.

It is ironic that Orwell falls into the very trap that he warns against. Believing that a government with near-absolute power will limit corruption, he holds two contradictory beliefs at once.

Orwell also vastly oversimplifies the lie that was fed to the German people. I don’t believe that a “belief in human inequality” was what sold the German people on Naziism. Their country was torn apart by World War I. They were desperate, looking for a strong leader. Hitler offered them hope (the promise of a strong, prosperous Germany), and a scapegoat (non-Germans and/or Jews). How different is this from Socialist ideology, which also offers its adherents hope (the promise of a classless society) and a scapegoat (the “bourgeoisie”)? Both of these ideologies, while branded as two opposite sides of a political spectrum, are really the same exact thing: nationalism. And, when adopted in government, they lead to the same thing: totalitarianism.

The reason I have chosen to compare the two is because it seems extremely common when rejecting one ideology to reflexively support its opposition.⁷

I see the tendency in many of today’s Conservatives.⁸ Rightly annoyed by the extremes of left-wing ideology, they assume that because the Left is wrong, the Right must be, well, right. They do not see that the differences between the American Left and Right are akin to the differences Orwell identifies between Fascism and Socialism. Sure, they fight over some key talking points, e.g. abortion or gun control, but, in essence, the aims of these two parties are exactly the same: keeping wealth in the hands of the ruling class. Many people, however, see the evils of one party as evidence that they should support the other. This is exacerbated, of course, by the American two-party system which forces people to choose between the lesser of two evils ("Biden sucks, but at least he's not Trump" "Of course I voted for Trump—could you imagine if Hillary was president?"). But it goes deeper than that. Too many people feel unconsciously that if they reject one "party line," they must oppose all of them, and agree with everything that the opposing faction has to say. There is simply no comfortable place for the free thinker; they may end up hated by both sides. And that all-too-human desire for group identity compels us to believe that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” when, in reality, the only enemy is the nationalism that allows people to consider hatred a moral virtue.

Take, for example, the case of Giorgia Meloni. Many Conservatives are so disdainful of the mainstream left-wing media that they refuse to agree with them about anything, even if this means rejecting evidence that is right before their eyes. If the media hates Giorgia Meloni, then she must not be too bad—it’s all an elaborate smear campaign, they’re calling all conservatives fascists now! It is that nationalistic delusion rearing its ugly head—the facts do not matter, as long as one’s “side” is victorious. What is even more laughable is that this blind rejection of anything one sees in the media is often exhibited by people who consider themselves “free thinkers.” However, immediately disagreeing with one side is as naive as immediately agreeing with them.

I do not know if Giorgia Meloni will turn out to be a totalitarian, or if she is a “fascist.” The word seems to have lost all meaning anyway, reduced to a petty insult, and it is dubious whether it ever meant anything concrete. I know that she has expressed admiration for Mussolini, that she belongs to a political party that has its roots in so-called “Fascism,” that she is a career politician (a fact that inherently raises questions as to a person’s moral integrity), and that she, like the totalitarians of yesteryear, is preaching to a country in shambles, and telling them exactly what they want to hear. Many people are ecstatic to finally see a bold, strong politician that seems to be speaking the truth, touting freedom and family values instead of political correctness and gender ideology. However, she is still speaking in party lines—they are just different party lines.

It is interesting that fascism is so tied up ideologically with conservatism. In actuality, they are polar opposites. Conservatism is, as its name suggests, the idea that one should conserve the good of a society. There is a reason why immigrants who come to America are often the most conservative—they understand that, while American society is not perfect, it is pretty good, and see something within it that is worth protecting. It is a beautiful sentiment, rooted in a love for one’s country and a desire to preserve the freedoms that one enjoys. It is also a pragmatic one; it acknowledges the fact that the world will never be perfect and that, at a certain point, it is better to slow down and accept the good things that you have achieved. Liberalism can, of course, be equally admirable. It is the philosophy of the young, the optimistic, it desires change, and often sees opportunity to make the world better and succeeds in this. These two philosophies should be situational—there are certain issues which need changing and some which warrant preservation. A rational human being should oscillate between progressivism and conservatism, depending on the context. Otherwise, one may find themselves progressing away from the free society that they enjoy and towards their own destruction, or, conversely, being left behind by a world that, by its very nature, is constantly changing, and may in fact be changing for the better.

The last two minutes of Giorgia Meloni’s speech, when taken in isolation, are quite inspiring. Progressivism seems to have been driven off the rails; we are at risk of losing the values that make our civilization so great. I can see this happening in America. When our identity is attacked we have nothing left, it breaks down our reality at the seams. Recall “The Lion and the Unicorn”—if our naive belief in our own freedom is what preserves our freedom, then what happens if we abandon this belief and instead believe that our country is built on nothing but inequality and oppression? I dare say it might even be good for the Italian people to become optimistic, celebrating the familial and religious values that make their country unique. Though I disagree with some of Meloni’s beliefs, I admittedly find her “don’t tread on me” attitude somewhat inspiring. However, the Italian people must be cautious, mustn’t let this situation divide them. And, if they support Meloni, they mustn’t take her words as gospel. Opposition to one infectious strain of identity politics should never be replaced by another. Let us learn from the mistakes of history instead of repeating them.

Let’s start a dialogue. Feel free to share your opinion on Giorgia Meloni, George Orwell, totalitarianism, or any other ideas that this essay may have sparked. If you’d like to add anything, correct me on anything, agree with me or disagree with me, please do so in the comments.

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1. See above.

2. For the past year I have been poring through Orwell’s bibliography in preparation for a lengthy analysis of his work, and now wield the sometimes useful ability to conjure up an Orwell quote for nearly any situation. Therefore, while I am certainly no expert on Italian politics, I consider myself decently qualified to review Meloni’s statements from an Orwellian perspective.

3. “An illusion can become a half-truth, a mask can alter the expression of a face. The familiar arguments to the effect that democracy is ‘just the same as’ or ‘just as bad as’ totalitarianism never take account of this fact. All such arguments boil down to saying that a half a loaf is the same as no bread. In England such concepts as justice, liberty and objective truth are still believed in. They may be illusions, but they are very powerful illusions. The belief in them influences conduct, national life is different because of them… The sword is still in the scabbard, and while it stays there corruption cannot go beyond a certain point. The English electoral system, for instance, is an all but open fraud. In a dozen obvious ways it is gerrymandered in the interest of the moneyed class. But until some deep change has occurred in the public mind, it cannot become completely corrupt. You do not arrive at the polling booth to find men with revolvers telling you which way to vote, nor are the votes miscounted, nor is there any direct bribery. Even hypocrisy is a powerful safeguard. The hanging judge, that evil old man in scarlet robe and horse-hair wig, whom nothing short of dynamite will ever teach what century he is living in, but will at any rate interpret the law according to the books and will in no circumstances take a money bribe, is one of the symbolic figures of England. He is a symbol of the strange mixture of reality and illusion, democracy and privilege, humbug and decency, the subtle network of compromises, by which the nation keeps itself in familiar shape.”

4. “British democracy is less of a fraud than it sometimes appears. A foreign observer sees only the huge inequality of wealth, the unfair electoral system, the governing-class control over the press, the radio and education, and concludes that democracy is simply a polite name for dictatorship. But this ignores the considerable agreement that does unfortunately exist between the leaders and the led. However much one may hate to admit it, it is almost certain that between 1931 and 1940 the National Government represented the will of the mass of the people. It tolerated slums, unemployment and a cowardly foreign policy. Yes, but so did public opinion. It was a stagnant period, and its natural leaders were mediocrities…

Do I mean by all this that England is a genuine democracy? No, not even a reader of the Daily Telegraph could quite swallow that.

England is the most class-ridden country under the sun. It is a land of snobbery and privilege, ruled largely by the old and silly. But in any calculation about it one has got to take into account its emotional unity, the tendency of nearly all its inhabitants to feel alike and act together in moments of supreme crisis. It is the only great country in Europe that is not obliged to drive hundreds of thousands of its nationals into exile or the concentration camp. At this moment, after a year of war, newspapers and pamphlets abusing the Government, praising the enemy and clamoring for surrender are being sold on the streets, almost without interference, and this is less from a respect for freedom of speech than from a simple perception that these things don’t matter. It is safe to let a paper like Peace News be sold, because it is certain that ninety-five per cent of the population will never want to read it. The nation is bound together by an invisible chain. At any normal time the ruling class will rob, mismanage, sabotage, lead us into the muck; but let popular opinion really make itself heard, let them get a tug from below that they cannot avoid feeling, and it is difficult for them not to respond.”

5. See Orwell’s essay “Politics and the English Language” for a more in-depth analysis of these “meaningless words.”

6. “A nationalist is one who thinks solely, or mainly, in terms of competitive prestige. He may be a positive or a negative nationalist—that is, he may use his mental energy either in boosting or in denigrating—but at any rate his thoughts always turn on victories, defeats, triumphs, and humiliations. He sees history, especially contemporary history, as the endless rise and decline of great power units, and every event that happens seems to him ma demonstration that his own side is on the up-grade and some hated rival on the down-grade. But finally, it is important not to confuse nationalism with mere worship of success. The nationalist does not go on the principle of simply ganging up with the strongest side. On the contrary, having picked his side, he persuades himself that it is the strongest, and is able to stick to his belief even when the facts are overwhelmingly against him. Nationalism is power hunger tempered by self-deception. Every nationalist is capable of the most flagrant dishonesty, but he is also—since he is conscious of serving something bigger than himself—unshakeably certain of being in the right.”

7. An example of the aforementioned “negative nationalism” turning into “positive nationalism.”

8. I capitalized the “C” in “Conservative” deliberately—there is a huge difference between a conservative belief and a Conservative identity. Anyone who adheres steadfastly to either conservatism or progressivism is ruled by an ideology, whether they realize it or not.