PART II

MUSSOLINI THE “MAN OF THE WAR”

FOR THE LIBERTY OF HUMANITY AND THE FUTURE OF ITALY

Speech delivered at the Scuole Mazza, Parma, 13th December 1914.

This speech was delivered under the stress of great excitement. The

most ardent supporters of active neutrality were assembled at Parma,

a citadel of revolutionary Syndicalism, which opposed Party

Socialism, and the majority of whose members, after the outbreak of

the European War, sided against the Central Empires and in defence

of intervention. Among these we remember Giacinto Menotti Serrati,

then Editor-in-chief of the _Avanti_, and Fulvio Zocchi, a

ridiculous and malignant demagogue, now removed from political life.

But, notwithstanding this pressure from outside, the people of

Parma, mindful of their Garibaldian and anti-Austrian traditions,

sided enthusiastically with Mussolini and Alcesto De Ambris, the

leader of Syndicalism and member of Parliament for the city, who had

been the first to support the section of the extremists.

Citizens,—It is in your interest to listen to me quietly and with

tolerance. I shall be brief, precise and sincere to the point of

rudeness.

The last great continental war was from 1870 to 1871. Prussia, guided by

Bismarck and Moltke, defeated France and robbed her of two flourishing

and populous provinces. The Treaty of Frankfurt marked the triumph of

Bismarck’s policy, which aimed at the incontestable hegemony of Prussia

in Central Europe and the gradual Slavisation of the Balkan zones of

Austria-Hungary. One recalls these features of Bismarck’s policy in

trying to understand the different international crises which took place

in Europe from ’70 up to the bewildering and extremely painful situation

of to-day. From ’70 onwards there were only remoter wars among the

peoples of Eastern Europe, such as those between Russia and Turkey,

Serbia and Bulgaria, Greece and Turkey, or wars in the colonies. There

was, in consequence, a widespread conviction that a European or world

war was no longer possible. The most diverse reasons were put forward to

maintain this argument.

_Illusions and Sophisms._ It was suggested, for example, that the

perfecting of the instruments for making war must destroy its

possibility. Ridiculous! War has always been deadly. The perfecting of

arms is relative to the progress—technical, mechanical and military—of

the human race. In this respect the warlike machines of the ancient

Romans are the equivalent of the mortars of 420 calibre. They are made

with the object of killing, and they do kill. The perfecting of

instruments of war is no hindrance to warlike instincts. It might have

the opposite effect.

Reliance was also placed on “human kindness” and other sentiments of

humanity, of brotherhood and love, which ought, it was maintained, to

bind all the different branches of the species “man” together regardless

of barriers of land or sea. Another illusion! It is very true that these

feelings of sympathy and brotherliness exist; our century has, in truth,

seen the rapid multiplication of philanthropic works for the alleviation

of the hardships both of men and of animals; but along with these

impulses exist others, profounder, higher and more vital. We should not

explain the universal phenomenon of war by attributing it to the

caprices of monarchs, race-hatred or economic rivalry; we must take into

account other feelings which each of us carries in his heart, and which

made Proudhon exclaim, with that perennial truth which hides beneath the

mask of paradox, that war was of “divine origin.”

It was also maintained that the encouragement of closer international

relations—economic, artistic, intellectual, political and sporting—by

causing the peoples to become better acquainted, would have prevented

the outbreak of war among civilised nations. Norman Angell had founded

his book upon the impossibility of war, proving that all the nations

involved—victors and vanquished alike—would have their economic life

completely convulsed and ruined in consequence. Another illusion laid

bare! Lack of observation. The purely economic man does not exist. The

story of the world is not merely a page of book-keeping; and material

interests—luckily—are not the only mainspring of human actions. It is

true that international relations have multiplied; that there is, or

was, freer interchange—political and economic—between the peoples of the

different countries than there was a century ago. But parallel with this

phenomenon is another, which is that the people, with the diffusion of

culture and the formation of an economic system of a national type, tend

to isolate themselves psychologically and morally.

_Internationalism._ Side by side with the peaceful middle-class

movement, which is not worth examination, flourished another of an

international character, that of the working classes. At the outbreak of

war this class, too, gave evidence of its inefficiency. The Germans, who

ought to have set the example, flocked as a man to the Kaiser’s banner.

The treachery of the Germans forced the Socialists of the other

countries to fall back upon the basis of nationality and the necessity

of national defence. The German unity automatically determined the unity

of the other countries. It is said, and justly, that international

relations are like love; it takes two to carry them on. Internationalism

is ended; that which existed yesterday is dead, and it is impossible to

foresee what form it will take to-morrow. Reality cannot be done away

with and cannot be ignored, and the reality is that millions and

millions of men, for the most part of the working classes, are standing

opposite one another to-day on the blood-drenched battlefields of

Europe. The neutrals, who shout themselves hoarse crying “Down with

war!” do not realise the grotesque cowardice contained in that cry

to-day. It is irony of the most atrocious kind to shout “Down with war!”

while men are fighting and dying in the trenches.

_The Real Situation._ Between the two groups, the Triple Entente and the

Austro-German Alliance, Italy has remained—neutral. In the Triple

Entente there is heroic Serbia, who has broken loose from the Austrian

yoke; there is martyred Belgium, who refused to sell herself; there is

republican France who has been attacked; there is democratic England;

there is autocratic Russia, though her foundations are undermined by

revolution. On the other side there is Austria, clerical and feudal, and

Germany, militarist and aggressive. At the outbreak of war Italy

proclaimed herself neutral. Was the “exception” contemplated in the

treaties? It seems as if it were so, especially in view of the recent

revelations made by Giolitti. If the neutrality of the Government meant

indifference, the neutrality of the Socialists and the economic

organisations had an entirely different character and significance. The

Socialist neutrality intended a general strike in the case of alliance

with Austria; no practical opposition in the case of a war against her.

A distinction was made, therefore, between one war and another. Further,

the classes were allowed to be called up.

If the Government had mobilised, all the Socialists would have found it

a natural and logical proceeding. They admitted, therefore, that a

nation has the right and duty to defend itself by recourse to arms, in

case of attack from outside. Neutrality understood in this way had

necessarily to lead—with the progress of events, especially in

Belgium—to the idea of intervention.

_The Bourgeoisie is Neutral._ It is controversial whether Italy has a

bourgeoisie in the generally accepted sense of the word. Rather than the

bourgeoisie and lower classes, there are rich and poor. In any case, it

is untrue that the Italian middle classes are, at the moment, jingoist.

On the contrary they are neutral and desperately pacifist. The banking

world is neutral, the industrial classes have reorganised their

business, and the agrarian population, small and great, are pacifists by

tradition and temperament; the political and academic middle classes are

neutral. Look at the Senate! There are perhaps exceptions, young men who

do not wish to stagnate in the dead pool of neutrality; but the middle

classes, taken as a whole, are hostile to war and neutral. As a

conclusive proof, compare the tone of the middle-class papers to-day

with that shown at the time of the Libyan campaign, and note the

difference. The trumpet-call which then sounded for war is muffled now.

The language of the middle-class Press is uncertain, wavering and

mysterious, neutral in word but, in effect, in favour of the Allies.

Where are the trumpets that summoned us in the September of 1911? The

secret is out, and ought to make the Socialists, who are not stupid,

stop and think. On the one side are all the conservative and stagnant

elements, and on the other the revolutionary and the living forces of

the country. It is necessary to choose.

_We want the War!_ But _we_ want the war and we want it _at once_. It is

not true that military preparation is lacking. What does this waiting

for the spring to come mean?

Socialism ought not, and cannot, be against all wars because in that

case it would have to deny fifty years of history. Do you want to judge

and condemn in the same breath the war in Tripoli and the result of the

French Revolution of 1793? And Garibaldi? Is he, too, a jingoist? You

must distinguish between one war and another, as between one crime and

another, one case of bloodshed and another. Bovio said: “All the water

in the sea would not suffice to remove the stain from the hands of Lady

Macbeth, but a basinful would wash the blood from the hands of

Garibaldi.”

Guesde, in a congress of French Socialists held a few weeks before the

outbreak of war, declared that, in case of a conflagration, the nation

that was most Socialist would be the victim of the nation that was

least. To prove this, notice the behaviour of the Italian Socialists.

Look at them in Parliament. Treves lost time by quibbling. At one moment

he exclaimed, “We shall not deny the country.” In fact the country

cannot be denied. One does not deny one’s mother, even if she does not

offer one all her gifts, even if she does force one to earn one’s living

in the alluring streets of the world. (Great applause.)

Treves said more: “We shall not oppose a war of defence.” If this is

admitted, the necessity of arming ourselves is admitted. You will not

open the gates of Italy yet to the Austrian army, because they will come

to pillage the houses and violate the women! I know it well. There are

base wretches who blame Belgium for defending herself. She might have

pocketed the money of the Germans, they say, and allowed them a free

passage; while resistance meant laying herself open to the scientific

and systematic destruction of her towns. But Belgium lives, and will

live, because she refused to sell herself ignobly. If she had done so,

she would be dead for all time. (Great applause, and cries of “Long live

Belgium!” The cheering lasts for some minutes.)

_The War of Defence._ When do you want to begin to defend yourselves?

When the enemy’s knee is on your chest? Wouldn’t it be better to begin a

little earlier? Wouldn’t it be better to begin to-day when it would not

cost so much, rather than wait until to-morrow when it might be

disastrous? Do you wish to maintain a splendid isolation? But in that

case we must arm; arm and create a colossal militarism.

The Socialists, and I am still one, although an exasperated one, never

brought forward the question of irredentism, but left it to the

Republicans. We are in favour of a national war. But there are also

reasons, purely socialist in character, which spur us on towards

intervention.

_The Europe of To-morrow._ It is said that the Europe of to-morrow will

not be any different from the Europe of yesterday. This is the most

absurd and alarming hypothesis. If you accept it, there is some absolute

meaning for your neutrality. It is not worth while sacrificing oneself

in order to leave things as they were before. But both mind and heart

refuse to believe that this spilling of blood over three continents will

lead to nothing. Everything leads one to believe, on the contrary, that

the Europe of to-morrow will be profoundly transformed. Greater liberty

or greater reaction? More or less militarism? Which of the two groups of

Powers, by their victory, would assure us of better conditions of

liberty for the working classes? There is no doubt about the answer. And

in what way do you wish to assist in the triumph of the Triple Entente?

Perhaps with articles in the papers and “orders of the day” in

committee? Are these sentimental manifestations enough to raise up

Belgium again? To relieve France? This France which bled for Europe in

the revolutions and wars from ’89 to ’71 and from ’71 to ’14? Do you

then offer to the France of the “Rights of Man” nothing but words?

_Against Apathy._ Tell me—and this is the supreme reason for

intervention—tell me, is it human, civilised, socialistic, to stop

quietly at the window while blood is flowing in torrents, and to say, “I

am not going to move, it does not matter to me a bit”? Can the formula

of “sacred egoism” devised by the Hon. Salandra be accepted by the

working classes? No! I do not think so. The law of solidarity does not

stop at economic competition; it goes beyond. Yesterday it was both fine

and necessary to contribute in aid of struggling companions; but to-day

they ask you to shed your blood for them. They implore it. Intervention

will shorten the period of terrible carnage. That will be to the

advantage of all, even of the Germans, our enemies. Will you refuse this

proof of solidarity? If you do, with what dignity will you, Italian

proletarians, show yourselves abroad to-morrow? Do you not fear that

your German comrades will reject you, because you betrayed the Triple

Entente? Do you not fear that those in France and Belgium, showing you

their land still scarred by graves and trenches, and pointing out with

pride their ruined towns, will say to you: “Where were you, and what did

you do, O Italian Proletarians, when we fought desperately against the

Austro-German militarism to free Europe from the incubus of the hegemony

of the Kaiser?” In that day you will not know how to answer; in that day

you will be ashamed to be Italian, but it will be too late!

_The People’s War._ Let us take up again the Italian traditions. The

people who want the war want it without delay. In two months’ time it

might be an act of brigandage; to-day it is a war to be fought with

courage and dignity.

War and Socialism are incompatible, understood in their universal sense,

but every epoch and every people has had its wars. Life is relative; the

absolute only exists in the cold and unfruitful abstract. Those who set

too much store by their skins will not go into the trenches, and you

will not find them even in the streets in the day of battle. He who

refuses to fight to-day is an accomplice of the Kaiser, and a prop of

the tottering throne of Francis Joseph. Do you wish mechanical Germany,

intoxicated by Bismarck, to be once more the free and unprejudiced

Germany of the first half of last century? Do you wish for a German

Republic extending from the Rhine to the Vistula? Does the idea of the

Kaiser, a prisoner and banished to some remote island, make you laugh?

Germany will only find her soul through defeat. With the defeat of

Germany the new and brilliant spring will burst over Europe.

It is necessary to act, to move, to fight and, if necessary, to die.

Neutrals have never dominated events. They have always gone under. It is

blood which moves the wheels of history! (Frantic bursts of applause.)

“EITHER WAR OR THE END OF ITALY’S NAME AS A GREAT POWER”

Speech delivered at Milan, 25th January 1915.

The progress of Milanese, which is to say of Italian

interventionalism, thanks to the authority and the influence of the

Lombard metropolis, the throbbing heart of the country, begins with

the meeting held in the great hall of the Istituto Tecnico Carlo

Cattaneo. At this meeting there were present forty-five “fasci,”

called “fasci di azione rivoluzionaria,” formed almost entirely in

the principal regional and provincial centres. Among the most

notable supporters were a group of soldiers of the 61st and 62nd

Infantry, the poet Ceccardo Roccatagliata Ceccardi, and the old

Garibaldian patriot Ergisto Bezzi, called the “Ferruccio” of the

Trentino.

I thank you for your greeting, and am happy and proud to be present at

this meeting which represents, perhaps, in these six months of a

neutrality of commercialism and smuggling, branded with Socialism, a new

fact of the utmost importance and significance.

While listening to the reports which were made here, my mind carried me

back to the first Congresses of the International, when the

representatives of the various sections of the different countries

prepared written reports which gave full details as to the situations of

the respective peoples. This was a splendid means of coming to a closer

understanding. I pass now to speak of the international state of

affairs.

The diplomatic and political situation cannot be spoken of without the

military. The military situation is stationary, although, to-day, it is

clearly in favour of the Germans, who occupy the whole of Belgium, with

the exception of 880 square kilometres, who hold ten rich and populous

departments of France, and a great part of Russian Poland. Besides, the

recent attack upon Dunkirk and the activity of the submarines and

dirigibles show that the Germans are still full of fight, and wish to

carry the war on literally to the utmost limits of their powers of

attack and defence. Thus the intervention of Italy is not late. I think

the right moment has come now, when the military situation hangs in the

balance. There is neither advance nor retreat on either side, for which

reason it would be a good thing to decide the game by the introduction

of a new factor, the intervention of Italy and Roumania.

The principal international events of this week have been the Berchtold

resignations, the consideration of intervention by Roumania, and the

treaty of the Triple Entente for the regulation of Russia’s financial

difficulties.

_Russia._ It really seems to me that there was a moment of slackness in

the pursuit of the war on the part of Austria and Russia. It is enough

to call to mind a short paragraph in an official Russian paper, the

_Ruskoie Slovo_, in order to realise that there was a time when Russia

wavered.

“It is true,” says the paper, “that on the 4th September, Russia,

France, England, Belgium and Serbia undertook not to make peace

individually; but this pledge brings with it the necessity of supporting

the expenses of war in common, especially now that Turkey has come to

the help of the Central Powers. Our treasury is empty. Where can we

obtain that money which is more important than men? If England refuses,

we shall be obliged to end the war in any way convenient to Russia.”

Really threatening words these, of which England, however, understood

the meaning, and immediately took steps to prevent their realisation by

launching the loan of fifteen milliards in favour of Russia to be

subscribed to in the capitals of the Triple Entente. And, in fact,

immediately after the announcement of the loan the tone of the official

papers changed, and there was no more talk of making a separate peace.

_Austria._ There were other symptoms of restlessness in Austria.

Clearly, up to the present, Austria has been sacrificed the most. She

has lost Galicia and been defeated by the Russians and Serbs.

It may be then that the resignation of Berchtold is an indication that

Austrian politics are taking a new direction. In what sense? I do not

think in the pacifist sense. Austria is tied to Germany, and Germany

leans upon Austria and Hungary. Burian’s journey to the German General

Staff was made, I think, with the object of obtaining military aid for

Hungary. Austria and Hungary are preparing themselves against Roumania,

because this nation will probably intervene before Italy.

_Roumania._ Roumania has four million men concentrated in Transylvania

under the rule of Austria-Hungary; she is a young nation with a perfect

army of 500,000 men, and she will be obliged to end her hesitation,

probably owing to the fact that the Russians are at her frontier.

Nothing would embarrass the Roumanians as much as this, since they

remember that in 1878 the Russians occupied Bessarabia. When the

Russians, therefore, are in Transylvania, the intervention of Roumania

will be decided at once.

_Valona._ One fact that has a certain importance where Italy is

concerned is the occupation of Valona, which has come about in curious

circumstances with the occupation of Sasseno, and the landing of the

marines before the Bersaglieri. I do not think that there are really

rebels in Albania; and I think that Italy will stop at Valona. I do not

think either that Valona will run any serious risk, because the

Albanians have rifles but no artillery. Albania does not exist in the

true sense of the word, as the Albanians are divided both by race and

tribe, and I do not think that an organised movement is to be feared.

_Switzerland._ One point that we must take into consideration is the

position of Switzerland—a point, to my mind, rather obscure. It is true

that we can feel, to a certain extent, reassured by the fact that the

President of Switzerland at the moment is an Italian. But without doubt

a restless state of mind prevails among the German element there. The

voice of race calls louder than the voice of political union; the German

Swiss lay down laws; they circulate pamphlets which say “Let us remain

Swiss”; they go in search of the Swiss spirit, but I think that it would

be difficult to find it. In any case, it is certain that they make acid

comments on the articles in the _Popolo d’Italia_! Taken as a whole it

can be said that a Pan-German movement has developed in German

Switzerland, which manifests open sympathy towards the Central Powers.

Zahn, a Swiss writer, in this way published an ode and sent money to the

German Red Cross. A political personality of Basel sent information

about the troops and the Swiss defence to the _Frankfurter Zeitung_. The

novelist Schapfer, of Basel, went to Berlin to extol Germany and to sing

_Deutschland über Alles_ at a public meeting. The journalist Schappner

advocated in the _Neues Deutschland_ that Switzerland should abandon her

neutral position in order to help Germany, and have as compensation

Upper Savoy, the Gex region and a part of Franche-Comté so that she

might form an advanced post of Germany towards the south, declaring at

the same time an alliance with Austria-Hungary which would enable

Switzerland to extend her boundaries also towards Italy.

The _Neue Zurcher Nachrichten_ has even gone to the extent of taunting

Belgium with her unhappy fate, saying that the neutrality of Belgium

would have been violated by her own Government, and calling her the

betrayer of Germany, and saying that Germany had every right to punish

her.

These are all documents which are worth while knowing about, because

they denote a state of mind that might have a surprise in store for us.

Switzerland is made up of twenty-four cantons, in one of which the

Italian language is spoken; but I don’t think that much reliance can be

placed on that fact. For the rest, I know that the General Staff

preoccupies itself a good deal with the possibility that, either through

love or fear, Switzerland will allow the Kaiser’s troops to pass through

Swiss territory, in which case they would then find themselves at once

in Lombardy.

_The Dilemma of Italy._ This meeting, therefore, asks for the

repudiation of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance as the first step to

mobilisation and war. Otherwise, if the treaty is still in force, you

can see how it can be interpreted in any sense. At first it bound us to

intervene on the side of Austria and Germany, and we were taxed with

being traitors when we declared ourselves neutral. To-day it proves that

it is our duty to remain neutral. Treaties then are interpreted

according to the letter, according to the spirit and according to the

convenience of those who have to interpret them! Necessity demands,

therefore, the explicit repudiation of the Treaty of the Triple

Alliance. Perhaps this can be made the _casus belli_. We are not

diplomats, but it is certain that if Italy repudiates the Treaty of the

Triple Alliance, Germany will ask for explanations, and if, at the same

time, there was mobilisation against Austria and Germany, we should be

able to reach the stage in which a solution by arms would be forced upon

us. For us the _casus belli_ was magnificent and solemn; it was that

created by the violation of the neutrality of Belgium. Italy ought to

intervene in the name of _jus gentium_, in the name of her own national

security. She has not been able to do so then; but now we must decide.

“Either war, or the end of our name as a great power.” Let us build

gambling-houses and hotels and grow fat. A people can have this ideal

also, which is shared by the lower zoological species!

In reality the German working classes have embraced the cause of

Prussian militarism, and so, my friends, the chief reason for remaining

neutral falls to the ground. You Italian Socialists are preparing to

commit the same crime of which you accuse the German Socialists. We, in

the meantime, question the right of the German Socialists to call

themselves Socialists any more. The International compact is only of

value when it is signed and respected by all the contracting parties.

Since the Germans are the first to have broken it, the Italians are no

longer under obligation to hold by a contract which might mean their

ruin.

It is a fact, however, that Italy is “still bound to the Triple

Alliance.” This Government of ours is pusillanimous, because the

repudiation of the Triple Alliance does not mean a declaration of war or

even mobilisation. But, meanwhile, this would prove that the Italian

people vindicate their right to independence of action in this period of

history.

_The Revolutionary War._ To say that we are causing a revolution in

order to obtain war, is to say something which we cannot maintain. We

have not the strength. We find ourselves face to face with formidable

coalitions, but the _fasci_ of action have this object, to create that

state of mind which will impose war upon the country.

To-morrow, if Italy does not make war, a revolutionary position will be

inevitably decided, and discontent will spring up everywhere. Those same

men who to-day are in favour of neutrality, when they feel themselves

humiliated as men and Italians, will ask the responsible powers to

account for it, and then will be our chance. Then we shall have our war.

Then we shall say to the dominant classes: “You have not proved

yourselves capable of fulfilling your task; you have deceived us and

destroyed our aspirations. Your first care should have been the

completion of the unity of the country, and you have ignored it. You

have been warned about it by democracy in general and by the Republican

Party particularly.” This will be a case which will surely end in

condemnation; in condemnation which cannot be other than capital. And

then perhaps we shall issue from this harassing period of history. Every

day we feel that there is something in Italy which does not work, that

there is a cog missing in the gear, or a wheel that does not go round.

The country is young, but its institutions are old; and when—if I may be

allowed to quote once more from Karl Marx, the old Pangermanist—a

conflict between new forces and old institutions begins to shape itself,

that means that the new wine cannot any longer be kept in the old skins,

or the inevitable will occur. The old forces of the political and social

life of Italy will fall into fragments. (Loud applause.)

“TO THE COMPLETE VANQUISHING OF THE HUNS”

Speech delivered at Sesto San Giovanni, 1st December 1917.

After the Caporetto disaster the patriotic organisations of Milan

had consolidated their union, previously undermined by the opponents

of war, who, thanks to the leniency of the Government, had been able

to work in the interest of the enemy. They developed the existing

sphere of propaganda, advocating resistance within the country. One

of the centres most infected by neutralist opposition was

undoubtedly Sesto San Giovanni, a large borough of the working

classes at the gates of Milan, completely controlled by

Social-Communist administration.

Mussolini, having just left the military hospital, where he had been

lying ill as a result of many wounds received when a “bersagliere”

of the 11th Regiment, spoke in this hostile citadel as only he could

speak; and it is certainly beyond question that his frank and

incisive eloquence was mainly instrumental in dispersing the bitter

anti-war feelings fomented by stubborn and impudent Socialist

neutralism.

Workmen and citizens! The other evening, after three years’ silence, I

spoke to the audience of the Scala; an imposing audience and a large

hall; but I prefer this friendly gathering of workmen and soldiers,

because, in spite of everything, I am, and shall always remain, one with

the masses which produce and work, and the implacable adversary of every

parasite.

_The International Illusion._ I am here to talk to you of the war, and

to remind you of an article, which some of you will still remember, in

which, in a certain degree, I foresaw this truce. “A truce of arms” I

called it then, and I repeat these words to-day. When one speaks of war,

one must do so with a clear conscience and without all those useless

ornaments of speech typical of an old, artificial style of literature.

We must remember that while we stand together here to think of them, the

best among our men, our brothers, your sons and your husbands are

consuming themselves, suffering and perhaps dying for us, for our

country and for our civilisation! We wished for the war, it is true, but

because the arrogance of other men imposed it upon us. We had

entertained the illusion that it was possible to realise the

international dream among the peoples, but, while we were sincerely

putting our faith in this beautiful chimera, the German

“Internationals,” with Bebel at their head, were declaring themselves to

be first Germans, and afterwards Socialists! And in the International

Congresses the Germans always systematically refused to bind themselves

to decisive action with the Socialists of other countries, under the

specious pretext that the retrograde constitution of their country did

not allow them, without jeopardising their organisation, to conclude

international agreements. They held too much by their organisations, by

their hundred and one deputies and by the fat and swollen purse of

marks, which is the only thing which has been saved from German

Socialism. (Loud applause.)

While Germany was preparing for war by organising formidable means of

dominion and massacre, nobody in England, France, Italy or Russia

dreamed of the imminence of the terrible scourge.

_The True Germany._ We had a very wrong idea of Germany. We only knew

the Germany of the flaxen-haired Gretchens and of home-sick novels, and

not that of Von Bernhardi, Harden and the Hohenzollerns.

It was Germany who wanted the war. Harden said so in an ill-considered

outburst of sincerity. The Socialists, who claimed more land for the

expansion of the German people, wanted it; spectacled professors

incapable of synthesis, but terrible in analysis, prepared it; the

military caste imposed it. The pretext for the unchaining of these

forces was soon found. Two revolver shots in 1914; some bombs thrown;

two imperial corpses hurried away in a court coach were the pretext. The

war, for which the Central Powers were prepared, blazed up on all sides.

_The Socialist Intervention._ We Socialists who were in favour of

intervention advocated war, because we divined that it contained within

it the seeds of revolution. It is not the first instance of

revolutionary war. There were the Napoleonic wars, the war of 1870, the

enterprises of Garibaldi, in which, had we lived in those days, we

should have joined in the same spirit and the same faith.

Karl Marx, too, was a jingoist. In 1855 he wrote that Germany would have

been obliged to declare war against Russia; and in 1870 he said of the

French: “They must be defeated! They will never be sufficiently beaten.”

And when in 1871 the Socialists of France, with Latin ingenuousness,

after declaring the Republic, sent a passionate appeal to the Germans

for peace, Karl Marx said: “These imbeciles of Frenchmen claim that for

their rag of a republic we should renounce all the advantages of this

war.”

_One does not deny one’s Country._ It is possible to remain a Socialist

and be in favour of certain wars. When the country is in danger, it is

not possible to remain pacifist. A man cannot ignore his country any

more than a tree can ignore the earth which provides it with sustenance.

(Applause.) Our people have understood it, and you, who carry in your

veins some drops of the warrior-blood of those men of Legnano who drove

away Barbarossa, of the people of the Cinque Giornate, join with me

to-day in inciting our soldiers to free our land from the shame of

servitude. (Applause.) To deny one’s country, especially in a critical

hour of her existence, is to deny one’s mother!

It was thought that the soldiers’ strike would bring peace. But, when

our soldiers found that the enemy, instead of throwing down their

rifles, mounted cannons and field-guns, instead of fraternising,

massacred old men, women and children, and far from returning to their

own country, advanced into ours, they only waited until a large enough

river divided them from the adversary to place before them once again

the impassable barrier of the Italian forces. (Loud applause.)

Our set-back is not due to fear of the Germans. The victors of eleven

battles, the soldiers of the Carso, Bainsizza, Monte Santo, Cucco and of

Sabotino do not fear spiked helmets. The armies of all the combatant

countries have had moments of bewilderment, but not one recovered itself

as quickly as we have. After only one week of retreat, our troops faced

the enemy again and forced them back.

_A Resolute Resistance._ We have skirted the abyss; we might have been

lost, but we have saved ourselves. While the Germans were hoping for

still further revolution, the soldiers re-established the force of

resistance which had been weakened; and now at the front the only

fraternity is that of rifle shots. (Applause.)

When the storm is passed we shall be proud of having done our duty.

Wilson, convinced pacifist, was drawn into the war by an elevated

humanitarian motive, which made him feel that to prolong the war was an

act of intolerable complicity with the Germans, and he gives us an

example.

The war will end with our victory; but in order to win, you, workmen,

must produce more. We must have guns, shells, rifles and bombs in great

quantities. Arms and munitions, at this moment, represent our salvation.

To-morrow, when our factories again produce ploughs and spades and

instruments for agriculture, we shall have the joy of a duty done.

To-day, and until the barbarians are defeated for ever, instruments of

war must increase in number under the impulse of your decisive will to

win. (Loud applause and demonstration of affection and sympathy.)

“NO TURNING BACK!”

Speech delivered in the Augusteo at Rome, 24th February 1918.

The speech delivered at the Augusteo in Rome may be included among

those made by the most fervent patriots to rouse the country to a

resolute effort after the Caporetto disaster. It was a summons to

resistance, and a strong indictment against the heads of the

Government in Italy which was responsible for the moral collapse

which took place in the Army, due to the evil influences of

blackmail and neutralist Parliamentarism at work in the country. The

salient feature of this meeting was the leaving of the hall by the

generals representing the “Corpo d’Armata” and the Ministry of War.

But it was entirely owing to this meeting of exasperated patriots

that the general policy of the then Prime Minister ceased to be

lenient to the enemy’s sympathisers and that active resistance paved

the way to the victory of the country in arms.

I wonder if there is anyone among you who remembers a meeting in favour

of intervention in the war, that we held three years ago in one of the

squares in Rome? We were dispersed by the police, but we were in the

right. We moved on, and history moved on with us.

Three cities created history. But it does not matter. It is always the

cities which create history; the villages are content to endure it. We,

after three years of war, notwithstanding Caporetto, solemnly and truly

reaffirm all that was deep, pure and immortal in those days in May.

Remember! It was just in the May of 1915 that Italy was not afraid of

knowing how to live, because she was not afraid of knowing how to die!

_The Mistake of May._ But we made a great mistake then, that we have

since paid for bitterly. We, who wished for the war, ought to have taken

command of the situation. (Loud applause.) The Italian people—which is

not the plebeian crowd which gets drunk in taverns, for twenty centuries

of history have not civilised us for nothing—the Italian people had,

even then, a vague apprehension of the dangers which threatened its

mission.

In the May of 1915 the nation as a whole presented a marvellous

concentration of human force. We men of ’84, when we forded the Upper

Isonzo, thought that it was never again to be crossed by the Germans.

When we gained the other side, with one accord we shouted: “Long live

Italy!” (Loud applause from the whole assembly, who echo the cry.) It

was fine human material which we handed over to those men who carried on

war as if it were a tiresome task more tedious than the rest. We gave it

over—for a war which, after twenty centuries of history, was the first

war of the Italian people—to men who did not understand it; to men who

represented the past; to bureaucrats who have spilled much too much ink

over the trials and sufferings of the people.

But we are here to say to you: Gentlemen! the Germans are on the Piave,

the Germans have broken down one gate of the Veneto and are in the

process of breaking down the other. The moment has come to see if our

hearts are made of steel. (Enthusiastic applause.)

I know these soldiers, because, as a simple soldier myself, I have lived

among them, leading the life of a simple soldier. I have seen them under

all the different aspects of military life. I have seen them in the

barracks, in the hard, bare military transports while going to the

front, in the trenches, in the dugouts under ceaseless bombardment when

the shells rained down death; I have seen them when every heart has

stopped beating, awaiting the command of the officer, “Over the top”; I

know them, these sons of Italy, and I tell you, they have not been

merely soldiers, they have been saints and martyrs! (Loud burst of

applause.)

_The Causes of Caporetto._ How then did Caporetto happen? Let us search

our consciences courageously as a great people.

Ah! yes! At first, it may have had a military reason, not later. Later

we were face to face with a gigantic hallucination. (Applause.) Great

words were flashed across the horizon. The formulæ of “salvation” had

come from Russia, and from Rome came a fierce outcry against the war,

saying that it was “a useless massacre.” You cannot conceive the

profound disturbance this outcry caused in the minds of the multitude.

And, as if that were not enough, without anyone having the courage to

take summary proceedings against the authors, another sacrilegious

message came from Parliament: “No more trenches next winter.” And, it is

true, we are not any longer in the trenches beyond the Isonzo; we are on

_this_ side of the Piave.

_Justice for All._ All this was the result of a falsehood that lay at

the bottom of our national life. The words “political liberty” had been

said. Ah! liberty to betray, to murder the country, to pour out more

blood, as said the man in France. (General applause. Cries of “Long live

Clémenceau!”) This political liberty is a paradox. It is criminal to

think that men are requisitioned, dressed, armed and sent to be killed,

whilst every liberty of speech and power of protest is denied them; that

they are terribly punished for the slightest act or word not in keeping

with given orders, while at the same time, behind, in the secret

meeting-places, in the club-houses of brutalised drunkards, plans are

allowed to be matured and words to be spoken which are death to the war.

(Loud general applause.)

But did you not feel, after 24th October, that there was a great change

in us, both collectively and individually? Did you not feel that the

vultures had torn away the flesh and fixed their claws in the open

wounds? Did you not understand that we were going back to ’66? Did you

not take into account the danger that the military system of ’66 would

be accompanied by the same diplomatic manœuvring which we have not yet

expiated? One does not deny one’s country, one conquers it! (Warm

applause.)

_The Example of Russia._ Take a lesson from what has happened in Russia.

The Latin sages used to say that Nature does not work by sudden leaps. I

think, on the contrary, that she does sometimes. But in Russia they

wanted to make things move too fast. They got rid of Czarism in order to

form the democratic republic of Rodzianko and Miliukoff. That was in

itself a big step, and I pass over the intermediate action of the Grand

Duke Michael. But, not satisfied with this republic, they wished to

become more Socialist and called for Kerensky. Kerensky went, because he

was a mere figurehead—(Laughter.)—and now there are other people who

still want to make things move too fast. But now the Germans, under the

pretence of a future pseudo-democracy, have unmasked their brutal and

barbarous annexationist projects. At Petrograd, it is said, all citizens

must dig trenches, and those falling under suspicion of vagabondage or

espionage will be shot immediately.

_An Iron Policy._ But meanwhile the Germans advance, and I think they

are impelled by three motives: military, political and dynastic. I think

that the Hohenzollerns propose to put the Romanoffs back on the throne.

Well! I don’t care if they do! As the Russian people have proved that

they don’t know how to live under a régime of liberty, let them live in

slavery. But, in the meantime, the defection of the Russians increases

our task.

It is not the moment to bewail idly or to follow a weak policy. I seek

ferocious men! I want the fierce man who possesses energy—the energy to

smash, the inexorable determination to punish and to strike without

hesitation, and the higher the position of the culprit the better. (Loud

applause from the assembly which understands the allusion.)

You send the simple soldier, burdened with a family, full of cares, and

whom you have never taught anything about the country, to court-martial

because he has disobeyed some order. If you put this soldier with his

back against the wall, I approve of what you do, because I am a believer

in rigid discipline. But you must not have two kinds of law. If there is

a general who infringes the Sacchi decree, strike him too. If there is a

deputy who, after the experience of Caporetto, says again that war is a

“useless massacre,” I tell you that he, too, ought to be arrested and

punished! (Ovation.)

Whoever has been to the front and lived in the trenches, knows what an

effect the reading of certain speeches and Parliamentary reports had

upon the minds of the soldiers. The poor man in the trenches asked

himself: “Why must I suffer and die, if they are still discussing at

Rome whether there ought to be war, if those who are at the head of

affairs there do not know whether or not it is a good thing to be

fighting?” That is deplorable and criminal talk, gentlemen! And now,

even after Caporetto, after defeat, irresponsible people are allowed to

make public anti-war demonstrations. (Loud applause.)

_Ghosts!_ After Caporetto men showed themselves again whom we thought to

have swept away for ever. But we have driven them back into their holes,

because we are still on our legs.

Yes! Many of our comrades have not come back from the Carso and from

among the Alps. But we carry their sacred memory in our hearts. I think

of the indescribable torture of mind of those men of the Third Armata,

when they had to abandon the Carso. I think they must have cried out,

“For what reason, as the result of what unexpected catastrophe, are we

forced to abandon these rocks?” Because in the end one loves the tracks,

the stones, the trenches and the dugouts among which men have lived and

suffered. We love the Carso, this heap of stones dotted with little

crosses which mark the graves of those fallen in the cause of the

liberty of our country. (Applause.) We love the Carso, from which we can

view the coveted coast-line, the riviera of our Trieste. We still carry,

alive and splendid, the torch of the dead; the torch of those who fell

in the face of the enemy. And we are not moved by motives of gain. We

want clear and explicit recognition of the fact that we have done our

duty. And we find ourselves still in the breach, that we may tell this

people, in case they have forgotten, that there is no turning back.

There is no possibility of choosing. Worry your brains as you will,

there is nothing else to be done, nothing else can be thought of!

_Until Victory._ The game is such that we must go on, because there is

no other solution than this; victory or defeat! And it is the life or

death of the nation that is at stake. Also those who assumed power with

different ideas, with the intention of mending the situation, have had

to change their minds. There is no turning back; we must win!

The warning has come from Russia. The Russian rulers tried to turn back

and make peace. They have talked for days, weeks and months without

coming to any conclusions, because if Massimalism had sent lawyers more

or less smart, Prussia had sent armed generals who from time to time

tapped the pavement with their swords so that German rights might be the

better understood. Then they accepted peace. But Prussia, thirsty for

land, the Prussia of the Hohenzollerns, insatiable and implacable,

marches into Russia and occupies territory.

If there is anybody to-day who does not wish for peace, who prevents

talk of peace, who wants to continue the war, you must not seek him

among the people, but at Berlin in the company of Hindenburg and

Ludendorff. These are the enemies of mankind and to these one does not

kneel. No! The Latin race holds itself upright! (Ovation.)

We who desired the war and make it our boast that we did so, we who do

not go humbly soliciting electoral divisions, we shall not follow the

cowardly demagogic example of those who wish to ingratiate themselves

with the people. Democracy does not signify descent. It means ascent. It

means raising up those who are down. And so for all the sacred and

youthful blood that has been shed, and that we have not forgotten, and

for the sake of all that is still to be shed, let us renew the solemn

pact of our faith in the certainty of victory.

No! Italy will not die, because Italy is immortal! (Frantic applause.)

THE FATAL VICTORY

Speech delivered at the Teatro Comunale, Bologna, 24th May 1918.

On this occasion the principal speaker was the Editor of _Il Popolo

d’Italia_, who had recovered his physical efficiency after severe

wounds received on the Carso, and had a real influence in securing

victory because of the encouragement he gave to the spirit of

resistance within the country.

Bologna was then a stronghold of the opponents of war, on account of

the net of political and syndicalist organisation stretching

throughout the province, and of Socialist supremacy in the communes

and dependent administrations. It is, unfortunately, well known that

the State had by then ceased exercising any authority other than

merely formal in this province.

A mark of Socialist power, which proves also the profound

anti-national feeling of the defeated politicians who to-day stammer

so many lying excuses, is offered by the absolute prohibition of

manifestations calculated to glorify the Italian Army.

Mussolini’s speech at the “Comunale” temporarily reunited the sane

sections of Bologna to the rest of Italy, then in great anxiety for

her fate and future.

Combatants and Citizens! Will you allow me to pass over without

unnecessary delay the polemics which preceded my coming to this city?

If, as says our great poet Carducci, “one does not seek for butterflies

beneath the arch of Titus,” one does not seek for them either beneath

the arches of this, our ancient and magnificent town of Bologna,

especially as one would probably not find butterflies at all, but bats

dazed and frightened by this glorious May sunshine.

The form of my speech will not surprise you. In those days, three years

ago, all the Italy that was conscious of life and possessed of

will-power, the only Italy which has a right to transform her chaotic

succession of events into history, burned with an intense ardour—our

ardour. I have noticed now for some time that there are opportunists who

are trying to open a door for eventual responsibilities and who are

carefully and laboriously cataloguing the reasons why Italy could not

remain neutral.

_Destiny and Will._ Very well! I admit that there has been fatality, I

admit this compulsion, which was the result of a number of causes which

it is useless to dwell upon, but I add that at a certain moment we

imprinted the mark of our will upon this concatenation of events, and

to-day, after three years, we are not penitent of what we have done. We

leave this weak, spiritual attitude to those who seek applause, seats in

Parliament, and personal satisfaction; those who thoroughly despise, as

I do, all parliamenteering and demagogism, are far away from all this.

What Machiavelli says in chapter vi. of the _Principe_, about those who,

by their own inherent qualities, attained the position of princes,

Moses, Cyrus, Romulus and Theseus, can be applied not only to the

individual, but to the nation. “And examining,” says the Florentine

Secretary, “their lives and actions, one does not see that they had

other fortune than that of the opportunity which gave them the material

and enabled them to shape it as seemed best to them; and without that

opportunity the virtue of their souls would have been lost, and without

that virtue the opportunity would have come in vain.”

As to the Italian people in that glorious May, it can be said that

without the opportunity of the war the virtue of our people would have

been lost; but without this virtue the opportunity of the war would have

come in vain.

I have found an echo of the thought of Machiavelli in the book of

Maeterlinck, the great Belgian poet, the poet who, perhaps, more than

any of his contemporaries, has given expression to the most delicate and

complex movements of the human soul. Maeterlinck in his book _Wisdom and

Destiny_ admits the existence of a mechanical, external fate, but says

that a human being can react against it. “An event in itself,” he says

in chapter viii. of this book, “is pure water which the fountain pours

out over us, and which has not generally in itself either taste, colour

or perfume. It becomes beautiful or sad, sweet or bitter, life-giving or

mortal, according to the soul which receives it. Thousands of

adventures, all of which seem to contain the seeds of heroism,

continually happen to those who surround us, whilst no heroism arises

when the adventure is over. But Christ met a group of children in his

path, an adulteress, a Samaritan, and three times in succession humanity

rose to divine heights.” The war has been as a jet of pure water for our

nation. It has been deadly for Spain, for instance, but life-giving to

us. We desired it. We chose. Before making our choice we argued and

struggled, and the struggle sometimes assumed the aspect of violence;

but we won, and now we are proud of those days, and are glad to think

that the memory of the crowds which filled the streets and squares of

our cities disturbs those who were defeated and those who even to-day,

by the most insidious means, try to extinguish the sacred flame and the

faith of our people. They accepted this war as one accepts a heavy

burden, and their leader, followed by the curses of the people,

withdrew, like an old feudal lord, to his remote native country, and we

can only wish that he will always remain there.

_Enough of Old Age!_ But, as I am never tired of repeating, we young men

made one fatal mistake then, which we have paid for bitterly; we

entrusted this ardent youth of ours to the most grievous old age. When I

say old age, I do not establish merely a chronological fact. I think

some people are born old, that there are those at twenty who are in a

mental and physical decline, whereas some men—the marvellous Tiger of

France, for instance—at seventy have all the vibration and fire of

virile youth. I speak of the old men who are old men, who are behind the

times, who are encumbrances. They neither understood nor realised the

fundamental truths underlying the war.

Besides the people, the meaning of this war in its historical aspect and

development has been perceived by two classes of men: the poets and the

industrial world. By the poets, because with their extreme sensitiveness

they grasp truths which remain half veiled to the ordinary person; and

by the industrial world, because it understands that this war is a war

of machines. Between the two let us also put the journalists, who have

enough of the poet in them not to belong to the industrial world, and

are enough of the industrial world not to be poets. And the journalists

have often forestalled the Government. I speak of the great journalists

who keep their ears open, on the alert to catch vibrations from the

outside world. The journalist has sometimes foreseen what those

responsible, alas! have recognised too late.

_Quality versus Quantity._ This war has so far been one of quantity.

Now, it is realised that the masses do not beat the masses, an army does

not vanquish an army, quantity does not overcome quantity. The problem

must be faced from another point of view—that of quality. This war,

which began by being tremendously democratic, is now tending to become

aristocratic. Soldiers are becoming warriors. A selection is being made

from the armed mass. The struggle, now carried on almost exclusively in

the air, has lost the characteristics it had in 1914.

The first novelist who foresaw the problems of the war of quality was

Wells. Read his book _The War on Three Fronts_. It is in this book that

he advised the exploitation of the “quality” of the Latin and

Anglo-Saxon races. Because, whereas the Germans only work in close

formation, only give good results through the automatism of the masses,

the Latin feels the joy of personal audacity, the fascination of risk,

and has the taste for adventure; which taste, says Wells, is limited in

Germany to the descendants of the feudal nobility, while with us it is

to be found also among the people.

Another truth which those responsible realised late was that, in order

to win the armies, the people must be won, that is to say, that the

armies must be taken in the rear. This would be difficult where Germany

was concerned, as she is ethnically, politically and morally compact.

But we are face to face with an enemy against whom we could have acted

in this way from the very first. We ought to have penetrated the mosaic

of the Austrian State.

_A Great People._ Among the peoples who cannot be taken in the rear by

surprise, is ours. My praise is sincere. The people in the trenches are

great, and those who have not fought are great. For deficiency you must

look among those old men of whom I spoke just now.

I have lived among our brave soldiers in the trenches and listened to

them talking in their little groups. I have seen them during their bad

times and in epic moments of enthusiasm. And when, after the sad 24th

October, there was a certain distrust of them, I would not allow it,

because it seemed to me impossible that the soldiers, who had won

battles in circumstances more difficult than those prevailing in any

other theatre of war, had become all at once weak cowards, who fled at

the mere crackling of a machine-gun. And it was not so, because if it

had been, no river would have stopped the invading forces, and if we

stopped them on the Piave, it means we could have resisted also on the

Isonzo. (Applause.)

I was reading in the train last night a book of poems written in the

trenches by a Captain Arturo Arpigati. The literature of the war is the

only readable literature, but it must have been written by men who have

really been at the front. In this verse I recognised my one-time

fellow-soldiers, the humble and great soldiers of our war. Here it is:

Col vecchio suo magico sguardo

il Dovere, nume d’acciaio

gli inconsci anche soggioga.

benché ne balbettino il nome,

ecco, essi, la madre difendono

ed è la madre di tutti;

e sono essi la Guerra,

e sono essi la Fronte,

sono essi la Vittoria;

dai loro elmetti ferrei

spicca il volo la gloria:

essi martiri e santi,

sono l’eroica Patria, essi. I Fanti![2]

But the highest praise of the people in arms is contained in the

thousand bulletins of the Supreme Command. The unarmed also deserve

praise, both those in cities—inevitably nervous and restless by reason

of the association of thousands of human beings and the contact of

thousands of temperaments—and those in the country. From the Valle

Padana to the Tavoliere delle Puglie, from the vine-clad hills of

Montferrat to the plains of the Conca d’Oro, the houses of the peasants

stand empty, and with the houses the stables. The women have seen the

father and the son depart together, the thoughtful territorial of over

forty and the adventurous youth. It is useless to expect from the humble

people of the proletariat a highly developed sense of nationality. It

cannot possess what we have never done anything to cultivate. From the

people who have exchanged the spade for the gun we simply ask for

obedience, and the Italian people, the people of the country and of the

factories, obey. A sad episode, some signs of restlessness are not

enough to spoil this picture. It had been said that we should not hold

out six months; that at the announcement of the names of the dead the

families would rebel; that the sight of the maimed at the street corners

would rouse the people to action. Three years have now passed—three long

years. The mothers of the fallen take a sacred pride in their grief. The

maimed do not ask to be called “glorious,” and refuse to be pitied. Food

is scarce, but the people still resist. The troop trains go to the front

adorned with flowers as in the May of 1915. The dignity and peace in the

towns and in the country is simply marvellous! The national crisis,

which lasted from August to October of 1917, and which is summed up in

the two names of Turin and Caporetto, has been in a certain sense

salutary. It was the repercussion of the great crisis which hurled

Russia into the abyss.

Footnote 2:

As of old, Duty, of the steel hand, enchains even the ignorant by the

magic of her glance. While as yet they can barely stutter her name,

lo! they defend their mother, who is the mother of all.

And they are the war, and they are the battle front, and they are the

victory. Glory is reflected from their steel helmets.

They, the soldiers, are the martyrs and saints and the heroic country.

_The Russian Tragedy._ Was there any definite motive in the Leninist

policy which led Russia to make the “painful, forced and shameful Peace

of Brest”? Yes! there was. The massimalists really believe in the

possibility of revolution by “contagion.” They hoped to infect the

Germans with the massimalist bacillus. They did not succeed; Germany is

refractory. The very “minoritaries” are far from proclaiming themselves

Bolshevists. And more, these “minoritaries,” who ought to represent the

fermenting yeast, are continually losing ground. In three elections

there have been three overwhelming defeats. The “majoritaries” triumph.

They are the same now as in the August of 1914, accomplices of

Pangermanism. They want to win. After Brest-Litowsk the Socialists lay

low; after the Peace of Bucharest they kept silence.

We have seen what have been the results in Russia of the Leninist

gospel, we have seen how the German Socialists, who accepted “neither

annexations nor indemnities and the right of the people to decide their

own fate,” have interpreted this doctrine. The Germans took possession

of 540,000 square kilometres of territory in Russia with a population of

fifty-five millions; then they went on to Roumania and plundered her. If

the Peace of Brest-Litowsk was shameful for Russia, the Peace of

Bucharest was not. The Roumanians were taken in the rear, and could not

resist.

In the meantime, Cicerin, the Commissioner of Foreign Affairs, made the

wireless work. A cynic might remark that if the Roman Republic had a

Cicero in a critical hour of her history, Russia has a Cicerin, whom,

contrary to the former, nobody takes seriously, because it is impossible

to take seriously those who do not know how to take up arms in the

defence of their own rights.

The Russian experiment has helped us enormously, both from the socialist

and the political points of view. It has opened many eyes which had

persistently remained closed. It must be realised that if Germany wins,

complete and certain ruin awaits us. Germany has not changed her

fundamental instincts. They are the same as those which Tacitus

describes to perfection in his _Germania_ in these words: “The Germans

do not live in villages, but in separate houses, set wide apart the

better to protect them against fire. To shield themselves from the cold,

they live in underground dwellings covered with manure or clothe

themselves in the skins of small animals, of which they have a great

number. Strong in war, but persistent drunkards and gamblers, armed with

spears and well supplied with horses, they prefer to gain wealth, when

it suits them, by violence rather than by the working of their lands.”

In his _De Vita Julii Agricolæ_ this Roman writer notes a contrast

between the Germans and the Britons nineteen centuries ago which is

still the same to-day, that is, that while the Britons fight for the

defence of their country and their homes, the Germans fight for avarice

and lust. These same tribes, driven once to Legnano, have resumed their

march beyond the Rhine and are preparing once more to take up the

offensive against us. But the “lust” of which Kuhlmann speaks will not

carry the Germans beyond the Piave.

_We are on our Feet._ According to German calculations, the Italian

nation, as the result of Caporetto, ought to fall into a state of chaos.

Instead, it is on its feet. What vicissitudes may not this last phase of

the war bring with it? Will Germany, who has not been able to beat us by

ourselves, beat the formidable combination of nations which faces her?

We are one with France, whose soldiers have performed wonders of

heroism. And this France, which we knew so little, because we had looked

for her only in the cabarets of Montmartre, not frequented by Frenchmen

at all but by adventurers from all over the world, has written for us

the most splendid pages of heroic deeds. She has known how to rid

herself of insidious dangers, to give the death-blow to the plotters of

treachery, both great and small, and to make the rifles of the

executionary squadrons crackle, a sound which, to one who loves his

country, is sweeter than the harmonies of a great opera. Also we, in

Italy, must act inexorably where traitors are concerned, if we are to

defend our soldiers from attack from behind. Where the existence of the

nation and of millions of men is involved, there cannot and must not be

a moment’s hesitation about sacrificing the lives of one, ten or a

hundred men.

We are one with England, who repeats the words of Nelson, “England

expects that every man this day will do his duty.”

And we are one with the United States. This is Internationalism, the

real, true and lasting Internationalism, even if it has not got the

formulas, dogmas and chrism of Socialism made official. It is in the

trenches, where soldiers of different nationalities have crossed six

thousand leagues of ocean to come and die in Europe.

You must allow me to be optimistic about the outcome of the war. We

shall win because the United States cannot lose, England cannot lose,

France cannot lose. The United States has a population of 110 millions;

one single levy can produce a million recruits. America, like England,

knows that the wealth of society is at stake.

As long as we are in this company there is no danger of a ruinous peace.

Not to arrive at the goal of peace means to be crushed; but when we

arrive there, we, too, can look the enemy in the face and say that we,

too, small, despised people, army of mandolinists, have held out to the

end, wept, suffered, but resisted, and have thus the right to a just and

lasting peace!

_Convalescence._ I am an optimist, and see the Italy of to-morrow

through rose-coloured spectacles. Enough of the Italy of the

hotel-keeper, goal of the idle with their odious Baedekers in their

hands; enough of dusting old plaster-work; we are and we wish to be a

nation of producers.

We are a people who will expand without aiming at conquest. We shall

gain the world’s respect by means of our industries and our work. It

will be the august name of Rome which will still guide our forces in the

Adriatic, the Gulf of the Mediterranean, and in the Mediterranean, which

forms the communication between three continents.

Those who have been wounded know what convalescence means. There comes a

day when the surgeon no longer takes his ruthless but life-giving knife

from the tray, no longer tortures the suffering flesh. The danger of

infection is over, and you feel yourself re-born. A second youth begins.

Things, men, the voice of a woman, the caress of a child, the flowering

of a tree—everything gives you the ineffable sensation of a return. New

blood surges through your veins, and fills you with a feverish desire to

work.

The Italian people too will have its convalescence, and it will be a

competition for reconstruction after destruction. The flag of the

disabled is a symbol of a change in their moral and spiritual life. Just

think that certain rascals thought to take advantage of them for their

infamous speculations. But the disabled answered: “We will not lend

ourselves to this shameful game, we do not intend to accept from your

charity and sympathy help which would humiliate us.” And they do not

curse their fate, they do not complain, even if they are without an arm

or a leg; even those who have lost the divine light of their eyes hold

their peace. In vain the enemy hoped to profit by the state of mind of

these people. They reply to this by saying that all they had they gave

for their country, and to-day they do not wish to be a burden upon her,

and so they work and train themselves, and give further proof of their

devotion to the sacred cause.

_The Returning Battalions._ I no longer see relegated to some far future

time the day upon which the banners of the disabled will precede the

torn and glorious standards of the regiments. And around the standards

will be collected the veterans and the people. And there will be the

shadow of our dead, from those who fell on the Alps to those who were

buried beyond the Isonzo, from those who stormed Gorizia to those who

were mowed down between Hermada and the mysterious Timavo, or upon the

banks of the Piave. All this sacred phalanx we sum up in three names:

Cesare Battisti, who wished deliberately to face martyrdom, and who was

never so noble as when he offered his neck to the Hapsburg executioner;

Giacomo Venezian, who left the austere halls of your Athenæum in order

to go and meet his death upon the road to Trieste; and Filippo

Corridoni, born of the people, a fighter for the people, and who died

for the people on the first rocky ridges of the Carso.

The returning battalions will move with the slow and measured tread of

those who have lived and suffered much and who have seen innumerable

others suffer and die. They will say, we shall say:

“Here upon the track which leads back to the harvest field, here in the

factory which now forges the instruments of peace, here in the

tumultuous city and the silent country, now that the duty was done and

the goal reached, let us set up the symbol of our new right. Away with

shadows! We, the survivors—we, the returned, vindicate our right to

govern Italy, not to her destruction and decay, but in order to lead her

ever higher, ever on, to make her—in thought and deed—worthy to take her

place among the great nations which will build up the civilisation of

the world to-morrow.”

“IN HONOUR OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE”

Speech delivered at Milan on the occasion of the popular

demonstration of 8th April 1918.

The exaggerated welcome lavished upon President Wilson during his

visit to Italy is well known; and of all cities Milan accorded him

the most generous hospitality. Benito Mussolini, who on that

occasion was specially entrusted with the task of addressing the

President of the United States on behalf of the Lombard Association

of Journalists, had prepared the mind of the Milanese eight months

before, by a speech delivered in Piazza Cordusio, extolling the

generous and brotherly effort of the great and vigorous American

people.

Citizens! Time does not allow long speeches. I do not speak of time by

the clock, but of historical time, which for some few weeks has

quickened its beat. To-day throughout Italy demonstrations are taking

place worthy of this unique moment in the history of humanity.

(Applause.)

The people of Bergamo go to Pontida to renew the vows made by the League

of the Lombard Communes seven centuries ago, when they took the field

against Barbarossa; at Rome an imposing demonstration is in progress

beneath the shadow of the imperial walls of the Coliseum; while here the

people of Milan, by their numbers and enthusiasm, express the keen

sympathy they feel for the noble American Democracy. It was a year ago

to-day that America, having loyally waited for the Germans to come to

their senses, unsheathed her sword and joined the battle. (Applause.)

Six thousand leagues of ocean have not prevented the United States from

fulfilling her definite duty. The importance of her intervention does

not consist only in the fact that America gives us, and will give us,

men, ammunition and provisions. There is something deeper in the

intimate reassurance given us as men and civilised people, as America

would never have embraced our cause if she had not been firmly convinced

of the right and justice of it. (Applause.)

Citizens! It is for us a source of pride and satisfaction to be

associated with twenty-three other nations in this war against Prussian

militarism. But it must also be a satisfaction for the United States to

fight side by side with a great and powerful England which does not

tremble before the varying chances of war; beside a France which is

almost sublime in her heroism—(Applause.)—and beside the new Italy,

which has now definitely taken her place in the world struggle.

(Applause.)

As Italy discovered America, so America and the rest of the New World

must discover Italy, not only in the great towns, pulsating with life

and humming with industry, but also in the country, where the humble

labourers wait with quiet resignation for the dawn of a victorious and

just peace to appear on the horizon.

There cannot be anybody now, even the most ignorant, who can sincerely

believe that Germany did not want the war, and that Germany does not

wish to continue the war in order that she may turn the world into a lot

of horrible Prussian barracks. (Applause and cries of “Death to

Germany!”)

This is our conviction, and also the conviction of the Americans, a

great people numbering more than a hundred million, who have a vast

wealth at their command and who have already submitted themselves to the

magnificent discipline of war.

An old story comes into my mind. When Christopher Columbus turned the

prows of his three poor little ships towards unknown lands and far-off

shores, there were those who called him mad and moonstruck; and

certainly sometimes during those three months of wandering a sense of

despair invaded the hearts of those men lost in the midst of the unknown

ocean. But one morning the crew up aloft saw something new upon the

horizon. It was a dark, vague line. They shouted “Land! Land!” and three

months of misery were forgotten in one delirious moment.

The day will come when from our blood-stained trenches will arise

another such cry; the cry of “Victory! Victory!” And there will be the

right and just peace for all the nations!

Citizens! On behalf of the Committee of the Wounded and Disabled

Soldiers, I thank you for your solemn demonstration and I ask you to

join with me in giving three cheers for America and for Italy. (Warm

applause and cheers.)

THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS

Speech delivered at Milan, 20th October 1918.

Immediately after the end of the war a group of journalists and

politicians, belonging for the most part to the Republican and

Radical democracy, took the initiative in a movement supporting the

future work of the League of Nations. Later, however, this

initiative had to be abandoned by those who were loyal to victory,

because it seemed clear to them that the pseudo-idealism of the

Allies would prejudice the legitimate interests of the Italian

nation. The following speech, however, shows clearly the generosity

of Italian ex-soldiers disappointed by the realism of other

countries’ national aspirations.

The Executive Committee of the Wounded and Disabled Soldiers has asked

me to speak on the order of the day expressing support of the idea of

the League of Nations, which, already preconceived in Italy, is now so

nobly advocated by President Wilson, and which proclaims the

determination of the Italian people to co-operate effectively in

bringing about its realisation. I shall do so shortly, as the question

is not new, but is already understood throughout the country.

The disabled soldiers have taken the initiative, and it is significant,

as only those who have suffered most from the war have the right to say

what the peace ought to be, not those who have wilfully opposed it and

would have led us to defeat or—not wishing that the people should suffer

defeat—to continuous war.

This is the hour particularly suited to the discussion of these

problems. Already a League of Nations seems to be in the process of

realisation; in the trenches the different peoples are mixed up and are

associating with each other. The humblest peasant, dreaming of return to

his native village after the hard experiences of the trenches, has

widened his spiritual horizon and, for a time, breathes a world

atmosphere.

In the other nations, the question has already come under discussion in

the papers, the universities and the Parliaments. It could be said that

Italy was behindhand, but we might reply that in a certain sense we have

forestalled the others. There have been epochs in our history when

Italian thought has been almost too universal, but I think perhaps at

those times the universality of our literature, our philosophy, our art,

of our spirit, in fact, was our highest and noblest title to greatness.

But, without returning to the Middle Ages, two men of the nineteenth

century, Cattaneo and Mazzini, prove that Italian thought led, and that

the other nations followed the furrow we were the first to plough.

This war may be divided into two periods: the first, from the outbreak

of hostilities to the American intervention; the second, from the

American intervention up to to-day. In the first, the war has a national

and territorial character. The names of Metz, Trento, Fiume and Zara

occur frequently, and can be said to sum up our aims. The territorial

questions come first. The systemised jurisdiction of the world is not

yet spoken of; the war is world-wide in its direct and indirect

repercussion in as far as England has already made use of her colonies,

since Australians and Indians came to fight in Europe, but it is not yet

world-wide in its extension and aims. The second period began with the

April of ’17. Already, in the first period, English politicians had

begun to disregard the territorial problems; but this process was

shaped, hurried on and definitely settled by the intervention of

America. But in my modest opinion, the national and territorial

questions must not be underrated too much; that would be to play into

the hands of the anti-war agitators and the Germans. These are questions

of justice. It is a good thing to remember that Wilson, in all his

messages, though he certainly made a transposition of values, never

failed to establish that vindication of national rights, without which

the settlement of Europe and the world of to-morrow in general could

have no definite meaning.

When we speak of a League of Nations we must take into account certain

dispositions. Cesare Lombroso used to divide men into two categories:

the “misoneists” and the “philoneists”: the misoneists, who accept the

revealed truths, lean upon them and sleep upon them; the philoneists,

who are restless, impatient spirits and as necessary to the world as the

wheels and shafts to a cart. For the first the so-called kingdom of the

impossible has always extensive boundaries, but the war has enormously

reduced that kingdom. That which yesterday was a misty, fantastic

Utopia, to-day has become reality and fact.

Our enemies talk too much about the League of Nations. There are furious

“Wilsonites” of the latest kind in Austria and in Germany. Now I must

say that seeing this kind of people bleating like lambs makes a certain

impression on me. (The simile is that of a Republican German paper

printed at Berne.) They are the same who burnt the cities of Belgium,

who sank ships without leaving a trace, or gave orders to that effect;

they are the same who carried off men and women in their retreat. They

shout “League of Nations,” but we cannot be mixed up with them. There is

evidently an underlying motive. But they will be unmasked by the

victorious armies of the Entente.

Some people say, Would not this League of Nations be a substitute for

victory? No! on the other hand, it presupposes victory. Wilson has

talked of absolute victory.

It is said, in a Socialist review, that a League of Nations is

impossible if the Allies gain a military victory, because the desire for

revenge would lurk in the depths of the German mind. Now there are three

hypotheses as regards the way in which the conflict may end. The first

is the victory of the enemy, and this has already fallen through. If

this had come about, there would not have been a League of Nations, but

a master at Berlin and slaves in the rest of Europe, which would then

have become a German colony. The second is a war which ends in neither

victory nor defeat; and this is the most repugnant and inhuman of all,

as it would leave all the problems unsolved, and give a peace which was

only a truce. The third is the solution which is now shaping itself

gloriously upon the horizon—our victory. There is no danger of the

spirit of revenge being fostered by the Germans to-morrow, because we

allies in war would remain allies in peace. Germany will find herself

face to face with the same coalition which defeated her, and will have

to resign herself to the _fait accompli_. The League of Nations will be

formed without Germany, against Germany, or with Germany when she has

expiated her crime by being defeated.

Some people say: “Does it not seem very dangerous to go back to

universality, after the experiences of the past?” Ernest Renan must have

been up against this problem when he wrote: “The nation which entertains

problems of the religious and social order is always weak. Every country

which dreams of a kingdom of God, lives on general ideas and carries out

work in the interests of the universe, sacrifices through this its own

particular destiny and weakens and destroys its efficiency as a

territorial power. It was thus with Judea, Greece and Italy. It will,

perhaps, be thus with France.”

Renan was a great man, but his prophecy has not been fulfilled. France

during the nineteenth century entertained universal ideas, but with the

outbreak of war she recovered her national spirit. Internationalism may

be dangerous when a single nation advocates it, but to-day all the

nations of the world are seeking each other, in order to lay the

foundations of a lasting and pacific means of co-existence. Besides

this, the racial, historical and moral sense of every nation has been

developed by the war. It is not a paradox but a reality that the war,

while it has made us find ourselves and exalted the national spirit,

has, at the same time, carried us beyond those boundaries which we have

defended and conquered.

There is no danger of the levelling of the national spirit as the result

of contact with other nations. Solid foundations are needed for national

unity, and for this reason the condition of the working classes must be

raised. No nation can become greater in which there are enormous masses

condemned to the conditions of life of prehistoric humanity.

Another paradox of this war is that the nations fighting against the

Germans have not yet formed a peace alliance. The peace manifesto to the

peoples of the world ought to have come from Versailles. This could

help, among other things, to make the German crisis more acute. It has

not been done yet. The people intuitively felt the necessity. Sometimes

truths are arrived at more quickly by intuition than by reasoning, and

the people felt that that was the path to follow. And we are upon that

path to-day. Not long ago Clémenceau said that the liberation of France

must be the liberation of humanity.

It is true that to put the idea of the League of Nations into practice

would present difficulties, especially at first. According to me the

problems which will have to be faced and solved are of a political,

economic, military and colonial order. In a month’s time you will have

reports upon these subjects, and I do not wish to tire you with hasty

anticipations.

We have arrived at a decisive point in history. While we are gathered

here the battle is raging; there are millions and millions of men who

are fighting their last fight. Let us swear that all this has not been

in vain, but that these sacrifices must mark a new phase in the history

of humanity. Let us say to ourselves that all that can be tried will be

tried, in order to make the purple flower of liberty spring from the

blood shed in the cause of freedom, and that justice shall reign

sovereign over all the peoples of the renewed world!

IN CELEBRATION OF VICTORY

Speech delivered at Milan, 11th November 1918, before the Monument

of the “Cinque Giornate.”

Milan, notwithstanding its multi-coloured local Socialism, had ever

remained the burning heart of the country’s resistance and spent

herself lavishly for the war. On the morrow of the memorable day of

Vittorio Veneto she gave herself up to unrestrained manifestations

of patriotic joy.

Benito Mussolini—the ardent advocate of intervention in the

harassing times gone by, the indomitable fighter in the Carso

trenches, and the fervent advocate of resistance in the hour in

which the enemy’s friends were crying for “peace at any

price”—Benito Mussolini may well be considered as one of the

principal artificers of victory.

The people of Milan felt this in the triumphant rejoicings and the

Editor of _Il Popolo d’Italia_ was acclaimed by public gratitude for

his part in the union of hearts.

My brothers of the trenches, Citizens! I have never before felt my

inefficiency as an orator as deeply as I do now in the face of the

greatness of the events and your memorable and imposing manifestation.

What can I say to you, when this manifestation is already more than a

speech, a hymn—more than a hymn, an epos?

We have arrived at this day after many hardships. I see here, gathered

round the monument of the Cinque Giornate, which is the altar of Milan,

those who fought first and last, those of the trenches who are the

survivors of the sacrifice of devotion, who marked with their blood the

destinies of the country, and the disabled who feel themselves no longer

maimed since Italy has become great. I see beside them the refugees, who

will soon return to their lands and deserted hearths. I remember what I

said last year; we must love these brothers of ours, warm them by our

firesides, and still more in our hearts. And I see the people of Milan

joined together like all the Italian people in a superb act of love.

How many different events in the course of a year! Do you remember these

days a year ago? Do you remember last year at the Scala when we swore

that the Germans should not pass the Piave? And they did not pass, and

the then line of resistance became afterwards the line of advance

towards victory. Even in the darkest hours I did not despair, and paid

homage to the fighters. We saw in those days the first “poilus” and

“tommies”; it was the Entente coming to cement the Alliance in our

trenches. After a year of faith and sacrifice has come victory.

We think with gratitude of the fine leaders who led us on to victory,

but also, still more, of the anonymous mass of soldiers, our marvellous

people, who resisted the invasion on the Piave, and from the Piave

sprang forward to rout the enemy.

Remember it here—here where we held the first meeting for war—here, with

Filippo Corridoni. (The crowd give a prolonged ovation to the memory of

Filippo Corridoni.) We wanted the war, because we were obliged to want

it, because it was imposed by historical necessity. To-day we have

realised all our ideals; we have secured our national aims; the Italian

flag to-day flies from the Brenner to Trieste and Fiume and Italian

Zara. We did not know then that there were Italian infantry on the other

side of the Adriatic. Now, in all the cities and villages on the eastern

shore, the Italians have planted the flag of their country, because that

shore, which is Italian, must remain Italian.

We have also accomplished the international aims of our war. When we

said, four years ago, that the red flag must wave over the castle at

Potsdam, the dream appeared madness. To-day the Kaiser has fled, and

with the passing of the Hohenzollerns passes militarism.

The most magnificent political panorama which history records unfolds

itself before the eyes of the astonished world. Empires, kingdoms and

autocracies crumble like castles built with cards. Austria no longer

exists; to-morrow there will no longer be Imperialist Germany. We, with

the sacrifice of our blood, have given the German people liberty, while

the German people have made a holocaust of their blood in order to

deliver us over to the chain of imperialism and military slavery. Upon

the ruins of the old world is outlined the dream of a League of Nations.

Victory must also see the realisation of the aims of war within the

country—that is to say, the redemption of labour. From now onwards the

Italian people must be the arbiters of their destinies, and labour must

be redeemed from speculation and misery.

Citizens! At Trento there is the statue of Dante with his hand

outstretched towards the Alps. It seemed before that the reproach of the

great poet:

Ahi! serva Italia, di dolore ostello,

Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta,[3]

rang out admonishing the country. But Italy to-day is no longer a slave,

she is the mistress of herself and her future. She is no longer a

rudderless ship in a storm, because a glorious horizon has been opened

up by her victory.

Footnote 3:

Alas! Slave Italy, the home of all griefs,

A ship without rudder in a great storm.

And the people are the rudder of this ship, which, between three seas

and three continents, sails serenely and securely towards the port of

supreme justice in the light of the redeemed humanity of to-morrow.

(Prolonged applause.)