By John Baker
May 2001
US History 1916-1945
Il Duce as
seen in America
The Ambivalence of Italian Americans toward Mussolini
Italian Americans faced a dilemma in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini, leader of Italy since 1922, had been making more and more moves toward turning Italy into a totalitarian state allied with Nazi Germany. Immigrants to America were finding it was difficult to reconcile their feelings toward the United States with those they felt toward the old country. Though many admired Mussolini in his efforts such as to clean up corruption and to keep Italy running efficiently, some began to worry about his imperialist aims and authoritarian governance. Non-Italians generally disliked Mussolini, but Italian immigrants interviewed as part of the Federal Writers Project looked up Il Duce with a mixture of admiration and fear.
Prior to the Italian involvement in World War II in June 1940, many Italian Americans interviewed -- especially those involved with granite mining and cutting in the area near Barre, Vt., praised the Italian leader for both his involvement in "cleaning up" their country, especially in reducing corruption and making infrastructure improvements and for the strong sense of Italian pride he imbued. Mario Sacrosanto said in a July 1940 interview that his feelings about Mussolini were ambivalent. "I cannot say I like him, I cannot say I do not like him," Sacrosanto said. "True, he is a great man. The iron man. He is strong enough to put Italy on top of the world. In one way, he is like Roosevelt, only stronger."
Even non-Italian immigrants seemed to have some respect for Mussolini. In May 1939, Jane K. Leary interviewed an Irish immigrant named James Hughes, and reflected his accent in her report when she quoted Hughes as saying, "A lotta folks don't laike Mussolini an' indade I don't, but ya know jest the same he's done some thengs thet needed ta ba done fir Italy biad. He claned (cleaned) up a lotta thengs thet shoulda bin claned up, all right. Fir instunce he stiarted a mate (meat) inspection, an' saw thet thim Italians got the raight kand a mate ta eat. An' sence he come, ya can't raise the price a food stuff neither. Thiey heve about the same prices fir food all over."* Hughes later spoke admiringly about the reduction in crime in Italy.
Many of Mussolini's internal programs were respected by Italian Americans. For example, Connecticut resident Vito Cacciola -- commenting on how corrupt he thinks the Untied States is -- is quoted by Merton Lovett as saying such a thing would not happen in fascist Italy. "Mussolini? He fixa de grafters. If de Italian Mayor spoila his trust. Poof! Mussolini maka new mayor quick. If de judge graba de bribe; he's pusha in prison and Mussolini slama de door. When Mussolini catcha de gangster, he begin saya his prayers." Public work projects were also praised. An Italian-American granite worker in Vermont said his sister in the "old country" had written him about how the local road system had been improved. "This Mussolini has widened and hardened the old village path to a good road," he said. "He has sent skilled engineers from Turin and Milan, and the work of digging he has given to needy local farmers. It will be easy going now on market days." The granite worker's speech was interrupted by another local immigrant, Giuglio Bersconi, who said that not all is good in the old country. "My daughter writes often to a cousin in Rome," he said, "and the cousin says there are many Romans who resent -- but not too openly -- Mussolini's half-hearted adoption of Hitler's Jewish policy. There is her own teacher, a fine intelligent man, who was asked to resign from the staff." But some immigrants said Mussolini deserved "wiggle room" because of his other accomplishments. "He has got fine ideas, this Mussolini, he want to see his country right at the top, so if he make one, two, or three even good size mistake, we got to forget them, no?" asked Pio Frangini.
Another Vermont stonecutter identified in documents only as a northern Italian named Lizzotti, said he disliked both Mussolini and Hitler. "Both crazy for power," Lizzotti said in August 1940. "But Mussolini get credit for two things: he made a big man out of a little man, a big country out of a little one. But when he declared war on France, I was ashamed. France was already licked by Hitler."
The Italian declaration of war, deemed "a stab in the back" by Churchill, further upset many who had previously been willing to give Mussolini the benefit of a doubt. Joanna Loeti, an Italian immigrant married to another Italian immigrant in Vermont, said the change in opinion after Italy entered the war was evident. "Our Italian tenants feel bad about the part Italy is taking in this war," she said. "They admire Mussolini for the fine changes he has made in Italy -- the construction of highways, compulsory education, and so forth, but they feel he's gone too far this time." Another Italian Vermontian had similar views. In February 1941, a young Italian named Dominic Mori was interviewed. The interviewer reported their conversation this way, "Like most of the Italians of Barre (Vt.), Dom Mori had been shamed and sickened when Mussolini declared war on already-beaten France. And the conduct of the Italian troops in Albania and Egypt had shown that the Italian people as a whole did not want war (he said)."
What many of the Vermont stonecutters truly feared, Tomasi said in August 1940, was a war between their adopted country and their ancestral one. "They regret this war. Some have brothers in Italy, with sons the ages of their own sons. If the United Staten is brought into the war these cousins will be fighting each other. I've heard them talk: Italy was their first home, and they would like to be loyal, but America is their new home, their families, property, friends and interests are here. Their sympathy is torn between them and they keep hoping that the United States will keep out of the war." However, Roland Damiani, a show machine worker in Beverly, Mass., said that he felt most Italian Americans sympathized with the United States. "I cannot answer for everyone," Damiani told interviewer Merton Lovett. "Personally all my loyalty is for this country. My interest in Italy is secondary. If a war should break out in the old country tomorrow, I do not think a dozen men would leave Beverly to fight." Mayor Duncon of Barre had a similar view about the Italian Americans living in his town. "The Italians are anti-Fascist but pro-Italian if you see what I mean," Duncon said. "That is, they are opposed to Mussolini's internal policies, but they are strongly Italian when it comes to international affairs. They are proud of and loyal to Italy even while they condemn Mussolini over their wine and grappa."
Damiani said admiration of Mussolini and the Black Shirts was confined mostly to older Italian Americans. "They are naturally pleased to see Italy active, respected and powerful. The Italians are proud of their race and of its ancient history. The history of Rome means much to them." A Spanish immigrant in Vermont named Manuel Teral had a different perspective than Damiani, saying it was actually younger Italians that had more respect. In a July 29, 1940, session, Teral -- obviously still smarting from Italy's support of the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War -- told interviewer Mary Tomasi that Francisco Franco was just putty in Mussolini's hands. "And what is that damn Mussolini? His own countrymen hate him and his fascism. Most every one of our older Barre Italians hate him. Only the young ones speak well of him. Why? Because they know no better. Because he is a grabber and a go-getter, they're proud to be of his blood. He's a conqueror, and it's gone to their heads."
It seems a lot of non-Italians began to loathe Mussolini for the fascist support in the Spanish Civil War. A cigar box maker from the Tampa Bay, Fla., area identified only as Pedro is quoted in January 1939 as saying, "The Cubans, Spaniards and Italians here all feel sorry for the Spanish people. Even the Italians boo Mussolini when he comes on the screen. The Italians here all hate Mussolini, all right." In December 1938 a Connecticut clockmaker, and Irish immigrant, named MacCurrie told of an incident that had recently happened reflecting growing nationalist sentiment among immigrants. "This Eyetalian barber up the street the other day there was a couple of lads in the shop talking about Mussolini tryin' to grab land from France. Well, that big French peddler from Waterbury came in, and he got into the conversation. I don't think the Eyetalian knew the lad was French. It pretty near ended in a war. The Eyetalian says Mussolini would get what he wanted from France in the end, and the Frenchman says, 'Don't you believe it. Those French will fight for what they own,' he says. 'When it came to giving away Czechoslovakia, that part of it was all right, but when it comes to their own territory, they'll fight,' he says."
Not all Italians were comfortable admitting their discomfort with Mussolini. Mary Tomasi related the story of an Italian granite worker who suddenly expressed shame when another Italian immigrant heard him speaking out against the fascist Italian regime. "In that one minute I caught an understanding of his feelings: declaring Mussolini's misdeeds to a follow Italian was like discussing a brother's faults with another member of the family, with someone who in the interests of the home would respect the knowledge," Tomasi wrote. "But to tell an outsider was betraying your brother and your family; to condemn Mussolini before a non-Italian was to belittle the whole Italian race."
Of course, like all politicians, Mussolini was the butt of jokes told by Italian Americans. The humor often reflected Il Duce's repressive tendencies. Vito Cacciola spoke of an argument he had with a fellow Italian immigrant: "Yes, I hava scolded that rascal, Fabri. I talk to him lika Mussolini's Bible. You does not know Mussolini's Bible? That Bible says, 'Do so, -- or else.'" The dictator's rather ... imposing figure also was teased. Pio Frangini, another immigrant in Barre, said he was surprised when he saw a big statue in a local park. "For quite a few minute' I think it is Mussolini, so big he is, head an' shoulder like a bull, an' all muscle, an' naked like Mussolini like always to be in statues," Frangini said. "I say to myself: 'Hah, these American must believe Mussolini is the pretty great man.' In Italy you can expect to see his statue in every corner, but here across the ocean you expect it not at all. I tell my boy that, an' he laugh almost to die. He tell me it is not a statue of Mussolini, it is a memorial to the young people of America." Cacciola told another story, which though humorous, indicates there were some Italians in America who believed in Mussolini's political policies. A local Italian in Connecticut somehow came to the belief that he was one of Mussolini's Black Shirts, and in a drunken rant accused his neighbor of being a communist spy. "No, of course he was not communist," Cacciola said. "But de drunks was mosta paraliz-ed. He was a crazy lika coot. He coaxa that neighbor in his house, then by force he locka him in de closet. He plana to keep him there till Mussolini coma to get him."
Mussolini's calls for unity and repatriation of the world's displaced Italians was met skeptically. MacCurrie, the Connecticut clockmaker said no one he knew among the Italian immigrant community would heed such a call. "Mussolini knows goddom well the Eyetalians from this country don't want to go back. Why should they? What's he got to offer them? They won't be such dom fools as all that. A few years ago, he was hollerin' aboot his country bein' over populated."
The prospect of war with the United States was really what Italian Americans truly feared. A Vermont immigrant identified as Grandi expressed the fear that the Axis was unstoppable and war with America might be inevitable. "I don't know how the Italians here will take it if we go to war with Italy. Most of 'em I've heard talking hoped Mussolini would stay out in the first place. They didn't want Italy in with Germany. Most of 'em like it pretty good in this country. There are a few Fascists but they don't talk too loud or open. It ain't safe." Damiani, the Italian shoe machine worker in Massachusetts, said most of the Italian Americans he knew had been naturalized and would pledge fidelity to their adopted homeland. "The young fellows are just as loyal Americans as any," Damiani said. They are as interested as your boy in American institutions. My youngster here will never feel any great affection for Italy. I hope he will make a fine engineer or lawyer or doctor. I hope he will never have to fight."
Although not a representative sample of the Italian-American immigrant community as a whole, those immigrants interviewed as part of the Federal Writers Project expressed a variety of opinions about Mussolini and fascist Italy. Great pride was seen, as immigrants noticed the improvement in Italy's self-image because of higher standards and reduced crime. Many others, however, seemed extremely concerned -- and even ashamed -- about Mussolini's alliance with Hitler and Italy's expansionist policies. Almost all interviewed who expressed a preference, however, said they would side with the United States if war came between the two nations. The late 1930s and early 1940s was indeed a time of conflicting loyalties for Italian-American immigrants.
* Spellings, grammar and place names in quoted material is reproduced as it was in the Writers Project
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E-mail John Baker at: jcb10@axe.humboldt.edu, or visit his website at www.humboldt.edu/~jcb10