Almost exactly a century after fascist leader Benito Mussolini’s march on Rome and ascent to the Italian prime ministership, a politician whose party descends from the original fascists, Giorgia Meloni, has been appointed as Italy’s prime minister. Are we witnessing the return of lower-case fascism — a political phenomenon that has resonated far beyond Italy since 1922?
While there is nothing wrong with asking the question, throwing around the f-word too liberally could make it easier for far-right leaders to claim that since their critics always exaggerate, they also must be inflating the threat to democracy. Predictably, Meloni took great pains to distance herself from fascism in her maiden speech to parliament.
Yet in considering the question of fascism today, one must remember that it has gone through different phases. While there are no fascist regimes in Europe or in the Americas today, there certainly are some parties — including governing ones — that could shift gradually in a more fascist direction.
Illustration: Mountain People
Like any political belief system, fascism can be expected to evolve. Liberalism today is not what it was a century ago, and conservatism — not to be confused with a reactionary or even strictly orthodox stance — finds its very meaning in carefully adapting to changing circumstances.
What defines these systems are basic value commitments that should be recognizable over time. Liberals tell stories about freedom; conservatives dwell on the perils of rapid change and the limits of human reason in remaking society.
And fascists? For starters, they have all been nationalists who promised national rebirth — that is, to make the country great again. However, not all nationalists are fascists, and many politicians promise some form of regeneration.
What has distinguished fascists historically has been their glorification of violent struggle and martial valor. They have also promoted strict gender, national and racial hierarchies, with races in particular assumed to be locked in permanent and deadly conflict.
Today’s far right is undoubtedly in the business of re-establishing traditional gender roles and hierarchies, and it derives much of its energy from a relentless politics of exclusion: Those alien to the nation must be kept out, lest they eventually come to replace the dominant in-group.
However, there is also a perceived danger from within: namely, the “liberal elites” and minorities who do not count as members of what far-right populists consider the “real people.”
Yet this politics of exclusion does not necessarily go hand in hand with a glorification of violence and struggle as a means of providing men (it is usually men) with meaningful, disciplined, heroic lives. The latter feature, after all, emerged from the mass mobilizations of World War I, with Mussolini praising the “trenchocracy”: an aristocracy of brave warriors — as opposed to today’s weekend keyboard warriors — who had bonded in combat.
Since the war had ended, Mussolini’s followers continued the violence at home. Likewise, Hitler’s rise is incomprehensible outside the context of the bloodthirsty right-wing militias that emerged in Germany in the early 1920s.
It is no accident that fascist regimes originated in countries that either lost (in Germany’s case) or felt like they had lost (Italy) a military conflict. Nor is it an accident that fascist regimes sooner or later went to war, unlike traditional authoritarian governments, which typically prefer not to mobilize their societies.
It is this all-pervasive atmosphere of violence that is missing today. Yes, veterans are overrepresented within the more violent cohorts of the far right, and today’s far-right leaders do bring about what philosopher Kate Manne calls “trickle-down aggression.” However, even where the far right has come to power, it has sought to demobilize citizens and make its peace with consumer capitalism.
So, should we just move on from the debate about fascism? That would be too hasty. As the distinguished historian Robert Paxton has shown, fascism comes in different phases.
The current conventional wisdom holds that whereas damaged democracies in the 20th century were usually killed off with violent coups, 21st-century democracies are more likely to fall to aspiring authoritarians who subtly manipulate laws over time to make their removal from office virtually impossible. Such autocratization — an ugly, but necessary, neologism — is said to be more effective by dint of being harder to detect.
However, this contrast overlooks the fact that fascism — notwithstanding its glorification of violence — often did not have to engage in violence to achieve its aims. Mussolini himself did not march on Rome. He arrived by sleeper car from Milan after Italy’s king and traditional elites had decided to hand him power, in the hope that he would sort out a political mess that nobody else appeared capable of managing.
Moreover, it is largely forgotten that Mussolini governed for years within the structures of Italy’s democracy, even including plenty of self-declared liberals in his Cabinet. He practiced what today is often described as “autocratic legalism.” He followed the letter of the law while violating its spirit; or he enacted legislation in ways that were procedurally correct, but that put the rule of men over the rule of law.
To be sure, there was plenty of horrific violence as well, most infamously the murder of the socialist politician Giacomo Matteotti. However, not until 1925 did Mussolini clearly become a dictator (whereas Hitler left little doubt about the all-out racist totalitarian rule he would establish from the very day he was appointed chancellor).
It is a failure of political judgement to conflate today’s far right and fascism, but it is imperative to watch closely how the far right develops over time. A shift to fascism — represented by open commitments to authoritarianism and the glorification of violence — could happen fast, but it might also happen quite slowly. In any case, the conduct of traditional elites is a key factor to watch. That is one of the least-understood lessons of the rise of Mussolini’s fascism in 20th-century Italy.
Jan-Werner Mueller, professor of Politics at Princeton University, is the author, most recently, of Democracy Rules.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s