Europe Since 1918

by Herbert Adams Gibbons

Where Fascismo now stands is explained by Mussolini in a short article, under the caption “Forza e Consenso,” in the March, 1923, number of “Gerarchia,” the Fascist review. Mussolini declares that Liberalism is not the last word in the art of governing; well suited for the nineteenth century, which was dominated by the development of capitalism and national sentiment, it is not necessarily adapted to the needs of the twentieth century. Since the war our experiences have shown us that Liberalism has been defeated. Russia and Italy are proving it to be possible to govern outside, above, and contrary to, Liberal ideology. Communism and Fascism have nothing to do with Liberalism.

The premier of Italy, conscious of his strength, believes that parliamentary government has caused a general nausea in the country. Giving liberty to a few, he says, destroys the liberty of all; and he asks when it has happened in history that a state has rested exclusively upon the consent of the people without the use of force. Consent is as changing as the shifting sands. Take away armed force from a government, leaving it only its immortal principles, and it falls a victim to the first organized group bent upon overthrowing it. It is the right and duty of the party in power to fortify and defend itself against all opposition.

The Italians, in the opinion of Mussolini, are weary of the orgy of liberty, and that is why the younger generation is drawn toward Fascismo by its roll-call of order, hierarchy, and discipline. Men are longing for authority. After the years of war and the failure of nations with representative institutions to establish internal prosperity or international harmony, the day for strength and resolution and unswerving purpose to do for people what ought to be done for them, what they want done, but what they do not know how to do, is at hand. In peroration, Mussolini writes:

Fascismo, which did not fear in the first instance to call itself reactionary when many Liberals of to-day lay prone before the triumphant beast, has no hesitation whatsoever now in declaring itself un-Liberal and anti-Liberal. Let it be known, once and for all, that Fascismo recognizes neither idols nor fetishes. It has passed once, and, if necessary will tranquilly return, across the more or less decomposed body of the Goddess of Liberty.

Signor Giolitti, just before the advent of Mussolini, told the King that a party led by hesitating men, dominated by fear, could no longer hope to wield power in Italy. Signor Mussolini is certainly not dominated by fear. His minority party is supported by a majority of the people. But has not the Fascist program been hailed exuberantly at home and abroad because it is a new broom sweeping clean? The success of the Fascist reforms is not yet certain, and neither in speeches nor in action has the Mussolini Government revealed the clear outlines of a definite and constructive internal and foreign policy. What does Mussolini propose to put in place of Liberal ideology?

While not so much interested in foreign affairs as the Nationalists, and at times, in their clashes with the Blue-Shirts and the Fiume Legionaries, seemingly asserting the all-absorbing interest of Italy in internal reforms, the Fascisti have none the less made foreign policy a cardinal part of their program. They have not been avowed imperialists. They are insisting upon Italy’s equal place and dignity with other nations. The nature of the policies of premiers from Orlando to Facta has been a secondary consideration. What has incensed the Fascisti is the tendency of Great Britain and France to look upon Italy as a little brother, useful at times to help them, but not worth helping. Mussolini’s first entrance into international politics at Lausanne marked the change Fascismo determined to give to Italy’s foreign relations. Mussolini made Curzon and Poincaré come to him at Territet. Why should they assume that the Italian would naturally come to them?

Here public opinion in all Italian circles supports Mussolini. To the Italians it seems preposterous that either France or Great Britain should aspire to dominate the Mediterranean. Great Britain is in the Mediterranean only by right of conquest, while France has a wide Atlantic outlet. Both Great Britain and France have colonies all over the world. Italy, on the other hand, is a Mediterranean state, the only Mediterranean state among the great powers. When compared with those of her allies, her colonial possessions amount to nothing. Invoking the historic after the geographical, economic, and strategic arguments, Italy has a better claim to be the predominant power in the Near East than France or Great Britain.

Italians understand to perfection the principle of “whacking up,” and the treaty of 1915 shows that their motive for entering the war was sharing its spoils. But for them the spoils have not been forthcoming. Wherever it was a question of their share, they were confronted with the ideals of the war and were told that the principle of self-determination had to prevail. As an example of this cynicism, they cite Mr. Wilson’s Fiume declaration, written the same week that Shantung was handed over to Japan. And since the Peace Conference it has been explained to them that Egyptians and Moroccans have not the right to self-determination, but that Albanians have. At Paris, when Signor Orlando was pleading for Smyrna, he answered the argument of injustice to Turkey and Greece by asking the English how they justify their presence in Hong-Kong. “That was long ago,” was the answer of Lloyd George. Clemenceau assented. Signor Orlando got back at him quickly. “But do you French not base your right to Alsace-Lorraine on the ground that a title won by force cannot plead prescription?”

The Italians have learned since 1918 that to British and French statesmen there is still only one law, the law of might, and only one title, the title of conquest. Italy, not being strong, has had to bow to her more powerful allies; Italy, not having any conquests worth while, has not been able to make trades, as the French and British have done. So Italy’s Near Eastern ambitions frittered away to nothing, and the Lausanne Conference became, like previous conferences, a duel between French and British. Thoughtful Italians are beginning to wonder whether Italy went in on the right side in the World War. Great Britain holds Malta, and France Corsica and Tunisia. If Italy had been Germany’s ally and the Central Empires had won, Italy would have gained almost as much as she holds now at the head of the Adriatic, and if the German victors had applied the same principles as the French and British victors, with the tables turned, the war would have ended with Corsica, Malta, and Tunisia “restored” to Italy. Within the next generation will not Italy be compelled to fight Great Britain and France to avoid remaining permanently an economic slave in her own ocean?

Before Mussolini came to power the state of mind in Italy was well illustrated by the Turin “Stampa,” the organ of Giolitti. The “Stampa,” apropos of the British concessions to France and Germany in return for a free hand in the Near East, commented: