To those who aren't well versed in the subject (like myself), Italian political history can seem something of a mire of almost internecine quarrels between constantly changing parties and pressure groups. With a Republican constitution signed during the post-WW2 aftermath, it is a stark contrast with the UK's centuries-long parliamentary traditions and relatively binary party politics. This week's cultural talk, delivered by the political historian Franco Andreucci, tackled the hefty topic from a different perspective, however, focussing on the language, symbology and gestures that lie behind both Italian and other European political movements, past and present.
Andreucci began by talking about what made 20th-century politics different from the past in a more general, pan-European sense. He noted in particular the tendency of politics to move from the state parliaments to the streets, which, naturally, had a long-lasting effect on the necessary language and style of political discourse. In terms of Italy, the founding of Mussolini's fasci di combattimento in 1919 saw the beginning of a movement that would bring such focus on language and symbols to its climax, but it was by no means the first to do so. Indeed, in 1906 the left-wing Italian Radical Party (PRI) used the fascio, an emblem dating back to Ancient Rome which gives us the word 'fascism', and it is a symbol present even in the US Senate, as Andreucci showed us in a photo taken during a speech on Obamacare. Nonetheless, Mussolini's movement also encapsulated the increasing militarisation of political movements at the time. To this end, we were shown two marches which took place in the 1920s - one of Italian fascists, one of Ernst Thälmann's communists in Germany - and the similarities were striking, from military uniforms to flags, banners and political armbands.
After the elections of 1924 and the Matteotti affair, the effective dictatorship of Mussolini soon became clear, and it was at this point that the movement's permeation of mass culture began to take shape. In terms of language, State intervention ranged from the ubiquitous slogans of 'credere, ubbidire, combattere' (think, obey, fight) to linguistic 'purification'. For example, the English lexicon that once dominated football was changed: 'dribbling' became 'calceggio', 'offside' became 'fuori gioco', and 'corner' became 'calcio d'angolo'. Once again, though, this obsession with language was not new; one need only compare the German Nazi slogan 'Arbeit macht frei' (work makes us free) with the same country's communist motto 'Einigkeit macht stark' (unity makes us strong) to realise that all sides were trying to win this battle for discourse.
When considering post-war politics, on the other hand, Andreucci made some interesting points regarding the failure of Italian politicians of all stripes to forge a truly democratic political discourse that had mass appeal. From the Italian Communist Party (PCI) leader Palmiro Togliatti's oxymoron of 'unity and diversity' to Christian Democrat (DC) and Prime Minister Aldo Moro's paradoxical idea of 'convergenze parallele', Italian politicians were constantly criticised of speaking 'politichese' - or political jargon - that did not reflect the language of the people in the way that earlier communism or fascism had once done. In the ensuing discussion, Andreucci cited the differences between spoken and written Italian as possible reasons behind this difficulty, which was an interesting hypothesis. In this way the whole talk was thoroughly engaging, for our speaker taught us a great deal about the ostensible effect of speech and symbols on political movements, all of which is, of course, relevant for any country. Whilst he was highly critical of his own English, his eloquence throughout and extensive knowledge around the subject very much belied the need for such apologetics.
 |
| The fascio, political symbol dating back to Antiquity |
Andreucci began by talking about what made 20th-century politics different from the past in a more general, pan-European sense. He noted in particular the tendency of politics to move from the state parliaments to the streets, which, naturally, had a long-lasting effect on the necessary language and style of political discourse. In terms of Italy, the founding of Mussolini's fasci di combattimento in 1919 saw the beginning of a movement that would bring such focus on language and symbols to its climax, but it was by no means the first to do so. Indeed, in 1906 the left-wing Italian Radical Party (PRI) used the fascio, an emblem dating back to Ancient Rome which gives us the word 'fascism', and it is a symbol present even in the US Senate, as Andreucci showed us in a photo taken during a speech on Obamacare. Nonetheless, Mussolini's movement also encapsulated the increasing militarisation of political movements at the time. To this end, we were shown two marches which took place in the 1920s - one of Italian fascists, one of Ernst Thälmann's communists in Germany - and the similarities were striking, from military uniforms to flags, banners and political armbands.
 |
| The fascio can just about be made out either side of the US flag in the modern-day Senate |
After the elections of 1924 and the Matteotti affair, the effective dictatorship of Mussolini soon became clear, and it was at this point that the movement's permeation of mass culture began to take shape. In terms of language, State intervention ranged from the ubiquitous slogans of 'credere, ubbidire, combattere' (think, obey, fight) to linguistic 'purification'. For example, the English lexicon that once dominated football was changed: 'dribbling' became 'calceggio', 'offside' became 'fuori gioco', and 'corner' became 'calcio d'angolo'. Once again, though, this obsession with language was not new; one need only compare the German Nazi slogan 'Arbeit macht frei' (work makes us free) with the same country's communist motto 'Einigkeit macht stark' (unity makes us strong) to realise that all sides were trying to win this battle for discourse.
When considering post-war politics, on the other hand, Andreucci made some interesting points regarding the failure of Italian politicians of all stripes to forge a truly democratic political discourse that had mass appeal. From the Italian Communist Party (PCI) leader Palmiro Togliatti's oxymoron of 'unity and diversity' to Christian Democrat (DC) and Prime Minister Aldo Moro's paradoxical idea of 'convergenze parallele', Italian politicians were constantly criticised of speaking 'politichese' - or political jargon - that did not reflect the language of the people in the way that earlier communism or fascism had once done. In the ensuing discussion, Andreucci cited the differences between spoken and written Italian as possible reasons behind this difficulty, which was an interesting hypothesis. In this way the whole talk was thoroughly engaging, for our speaker taught us a great deal about the ostensible effect of speech and symbols on political movements, all of which is, of course, relevant for any country. Whilst he was highly critical of his own English, his eloquence throughout and extensive knowledge around the subject very much belied the need for such apologetics.
Comments
Post a Comment