Spending the weekend hanging around the crypt of a former dictator isn’t everyone’s idea of fun and, to be frank, it’s not mine either.
But it’s not every weekend that thousands of so-called ‘nostalgics’ of fascism descend upon Mussolini’s birthtown to mark the centenary of when he siezed power in Italy back in 1922. Considering that this particular anniversary comes just days after Italy’s most far-right government since World War 2 was installed, it certainly made for a news worthy event. So that’s how I found myself in the queue to get into Mussolini’s crypt surrounded by his admirers, who had come to pay their respects.
Predappio is a small town of 6000 inhabitants about two hours east of Florence. The surrounding hills are as beautiful as you’d expect of the Italian countryside, but the town itself would be unremarkable were it not for two things: That it’s the place where Benito Mussolini was born in 1883 and where his grave is to this day.
I’d been here before, back in 2019 while filming my documentary ‘Fascism in the Family’. Even on a random, drizzly September midweek morning, there had been a steady trickle of people coming to visit Mussolini’s resting place, roughly ten an hour. The grave itself is within a family crypt, not uncommon among wealthy Italian families, and is the private property of Mussolini’s heirs. In 2019 the crypt had been closed, but it has since been reopened to welcome the thousands who were expected to come to celebrate the man who coined the term ‘fascism’.
And they did come in their thousands, between October 28th and 30th, the dates of the March on Rome of 1922 - when fascist Blackshirt paramilitaries marched on the Italian capital, pressuring the King into appointing Mussolini as Prime Minister. It was a bloodless coup which marked the beginning of Fascism’s two decades of power over Italy.
Marking the anniversary is a yearly occurance, and Predappio is used to hundreds of so-called ‘nostalgics’ descending on it to commemorate the date. But when I got to Predappio’s cemetary late morning on Friday, there was already a queue of over a hundred people waiting for their turn to go into the crypt. Mainly men, but many of them accompanied by their wives and daughters, often wearing black shirts in an echo of the Blackshirts. Black is the colour associated with Fascism, and a few of them had brought roses painted black.
TV networks weren’t allowed to film inside the cemetary. I had contacted Mussolini’s great grandaughters, Orsola and Vittoria, to ask if we could take pictures within the crypt itself, as it’s private property. They were surprisingly accomodating, and agreed as long as I didn’t show any faces or the messages written in the condolence book. I agreed, as didn’t think either were necessary to tell the story.
So who were these people who chose to spend their weekend marking the beginning of what is widely seen as one of the darkest periods of Italian history?
They are often called ‘nostalgics’ and that seemed to fit the bill of those I met in the queue, though none of them were old enough to actually remember what life had been like under fascism. They wore their allegiance like a badge of pride, an identity, and extolled the virtues of Mussolini: A great leader is what they called him, one who restored pride in Italy and under whom the country was able to function and excel. “There’s never been another one like him.” is a phrase I heard often.
The queue hardly had the feel of a revolution, but more of a strange day out. Some people had travelled from Southern Italy, others from Switzerland and one even from Argentina. Once inside the crypt, two men who were in my group (groups of roughly 10 people were allowed in at a time) both made the fascist salute in front of the tomb. But it felt theatrical more than anything else. After one elderly man dressed in head-to-toe black made the salute and dramatically shouted “Camerata Benito Mussolini, Presente!”, he turned to his wife and said with an expectant smile: “So, did you get that on video?”
Judging by the people I saw at the crypt, I’d say democracy is safe for now.
But the ‘nostalgics’ at the crypt are only part of the problem. The issue is that certain ideas are increasingly being validated. No one I spoke to in the queue mentioned Giorgia Meloni. Ironically many within extreme right groups don’t like her, as they deem her too moderate. But I did notice that, while the people I spoke to outside the crypt back in 2019 seemed quite cagey about their support for Mussolini’s ideals, the ones in the queue now were much more open. As if their opinions had been validated and emboldened. It could be that the centenary was a special occasion and that there’s safety in numbers. But the feeling of validation could also be due to the fact that, arguably, similar ‘nostalgics’ are now occupying some of the most senior positions within the Italian government. The new speaker of the Senate, Ignazio La Russa, proudly showed off a house full of fascist memorabilia, including a statuette of Mussolini, to a reporter. His own brother has made the fascist salute in public. Meloni has said that she’s consigned Fascism to history, but it seems not everyone within her party is quite on message.
Worryingly, a message of ‘normalisation’ of certain views may be sent by her Government regardless of whether Meloni herself wants it to be or not.
Coming back to Predappio, the souvenir shops that sell all sorts of fascist memorabilia are doing brisk business. In the windows you’ll see a collection of Mussolini busts, T-shirts and mugs with various fascist slogans. But a little zoom on my camera phone showed the Hitler fridge magnets inside the store, as you can see in the picture below. Plenty of badges with swastikas and SS on them too.
Italy does have laws against apology for Fascism but too much is left to interpretation by the courts, which means often acts like the fascist salute are seen as ‘commemorative’ acts. Various attempts to strengthen the laws have been thwarted by right-wing parties as attempts to stifle free speech. Considering who’s in power now, any changes in legislation are unlikely to happen while the government of Giorgia Meloni is in power. And the sense of emboldment for fascist nostalgics may continue to grow.
Thanks for reading. A little housekeeping update before I go: I’ve just launched the ‘CHAT’ option for this newsletter. It’s basically like a WhatsApp group we’re all part of, and you can access it by going to the Substack App. I’m going to use it for specific topics in the future that will impact some of you directly (for example, tips and advice for non-British journalists who work in the UK) so have a look now and see what you think of it. It’s open to all subscribers. And for all the paid subscribers, remember you always have the option to email me directly at barbaraserra@substack.com using the email address you used to subscribe. The paid subscriptions are how I partly funded the trip to Predappio so I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support. Any questions, drop me a line.
Have a great week and see you soon.
Barbara x
Ad Italian, I’m disgusting
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