Speech in Udine, September 20, 1922

By Benito Mussolini

The speech which I intend to make today is going to be an exception to the rule which I have imposed upon myself: that is, of limiting the eloquence of my speeches, as far as I can. Oh! if it were only possible to do as the poets advise and strangle the verbose, prolix, democratic and inconclusive eloquence which has side-tracked us for so long! I am certain, or at any rate I hope, that you do not expect anything from me in a speech which is not eminently Fascist, that is to say skeletal, straightforward, hard, blunt.

Do not expect a commemoration of September 20th. Certainly the subject would be tempting and flattering; there would be ample material for reflection in re-examining by what prodigies of immeasurable force, and through how many and how great sacrifices of people and men, Italy has been able to achieve her not yet complete unity. I say not yet complete, because perfect unity cannot be spoken of until Fiume and Dalmatia and the other territories have returned to us, thus fulfilling the proud dream which we carry in our hearts. (Thunderous applause).

Instead, I ask you to consider that throughout the Risorgimento—which began with the first attempt at rebellion on the part of a small section of a cavalry regiment at Nola, and ended with the breach of Porta Pia in '70—two forces were brought into play: one, the traditional and conservative force, of necessity rather stationary and sluggish, the force of the Savoy and Piedmont tradition; the other, the rebellious and revolutionary force which sprang from the best elements among the people and the bourgeoisie. And it was only as a result of the reconciliation and balancing of these two forces that we were able to realize the unity of the Fatherland. Perhaps something similar occurs even today, and of this I intend to speak later.

Have you ever asked yourselves why the unity of the country is summed up in the symbol and the name of Rome? We Fascists must absolutely forget the more or less ungrateful welcome we received at Rome in the October of last year, otherwise we should show ourselves to be petty, and we must have the courage to say that part of the responsibility for what happened belongs to us, on account of some elements among us which were not on the high level the situation required. And Rome must not be confused with the Romans; with those hundreds of so-called "fugitives of Fascism" which are to be found in Rome, in Milan and in other centres in Italy, who effectively arouse harmful anti-Fascist feeling in the country. But if Mazzini and Garibaldi tried three times to arrive at Rome, and if Garibaldi gave his "Redshirts" the tragic and inexorable dilemma of "Rome or death," this means that for the men of the Risorgimento, Rome already had an essential function of the highest importance to fulfill in the new history of the Italian Nation.

Let us then, with minds pure and free from animosity, lift up our thoughts towards Rome, which is one of the few spiritual cities which exist in the world; because in Rome, among those seven hills so rich with history, occurred one of the greatest spiritual miracles which have ever taken place—that is, the transformation of an Eastern religion, not understood by us, into a universal religion, and which took over, under another form, that Empire which the Roman legions had carried to the extreme ends of the earth. And we want to make Rome the city of our spirit, a city purified and cleansed of all those elements which corrupt and defile her; we wish to make Rome the throbbing heart, the living spirit of that Imperial Italy of which we dream. (Prolonged applause).

Somebody might object, saying: "Are you worthy of Rome? Do you have the hocks, the muscles, and the lungs sufficiently capable of inheriting and transmitting the ideals and glories of an Empire?" And then, surly, critics themselves contrive to find signs of uncertainty in our young, exuberant organization.

People speak to us of the phenomenon of Fascist autonomy. I say to the Fascists and to the citizens that this autonomy has no importance whatsoever. It is not an autonomy of ideas or trends. Fascism has no trends. Trends are the sad privilege of the old parties, comatose associations scattered over all lands, whose members, having nothing better to do or to say, end up imitating those sordid priests of the East who discussed all the questions of the world while the Byzantine Empire perished. The few and sporadic attempts on the part of Fascists to establish autonomy were either liquidated or are in the process of liquidation, because they represent only revenge of a personal nature.

We come to another question: discipline. I am in favour of the most rigid discipline. We must first sternly discipline ourselves, otherwise we shall not have the right to discipline the Nation. And it is only by disciplining the Nation that Italy can make herself heard in the councils of the other nations. Discipline must be accepted. If it is not accepted, it must be imposed. We reject the democratic dogma that one must eternally proceed by sermonizing and lecturing in a more or less liberal manner. At a given moment discipline must show itself under the form of a command or of an act of force. I demand discipline, and I do not speak to the soldiers of the Friulian district, who are—let me say—perfect as regards sobriety and composure, austerity and serious living, but I speak to the Fascists of all Italy, who, if they must have a dogma, then it must carry one clear name: discipline! Only by obedience, by the humble and sacred pride in obedience, can the right to command be conquered. And only when it is conquered can it be imposed upon others; otherwise, no! The Fascists of Italy must take note of this. They must not interpret discipline as a call to order of the administrative kind or as the fear of shepherds who foresee the mutiny of their flock. This cannot be, because we are not shepherds like all the others, and our forces cannot be called, by any means, a flock. We are a militia, and it is precisely because we have this special organization that we must make discipline the supreme cornerstone of our life and action. (Clamorous applause).

I come now to the question of violence. Violence is not immoral. On the contrary it is sometimes moral. We dispute the right of our enemies to bewail our violence, because, compared to that which was committed in the unfortunate years of 1919 and 1920, and compared to that of the Bolsheviks in Russia—where two million people have been executed and another two million still lay in prison—our violence is child's-play. On the other hand our violence is decisive, because at the end of July and August, after having made use of systematic and warlike violence for forty-eight hours, we achieved results which would not have been obtained in forty-eight years of preaching and propaganda. (Applause). When, therefore, our violence removes a gangrene of this sort, it is morally sacred and necessary. But, my Fascist friends, and I speak to the Fascists of all Italy, our violence must have specific Fascist characteristics. The violence of ten against one is to be repudiated and condemned. (Applause). Violence which has no explanation must be repudiated. There is a violence that frees and a violence that binds; there is moral violence and a violence which is stupid and immoral. Violence must be proportionate to the necessities of the moment, and must not be made a school, a doctrine or a sport. The Fascists must be careful not to spoil the brilliant and splendid victories of August with sporadic, individual and unjustifiable acts of violence. (Applause).

This is what our enemies are waiting for. As the result of certain episodes—let us frankly admit disagreeable episodes—such as that at Taranto, they have been led to believe and to hope, or to flatter themselves, that violence has become a sort of second nature, and that when we no longer have targets upon which to exercise it, we shall turn against ourselves and against each other, or against the Italian Nationalist Association. Now the Nationalists differ from us on certain questions, but the truth is this, that in all the battles we have fought, we have had them by our side. (Applause. Shouts of "Good!").

It may well be that among them there are leaders who do not see Fascism as we see it, but it must be recognized and proclaimed that the Blueshirts in Genoa, in Bologna, in Milan, and in a hundred other locations were on the side of the Blackshirts. (Applause). In consequence the occurrence at Taranto was most displeasing, and I hope that the leaders of Fascism will act in such a way that it remains an isolated incident to be forgotten in a local reconciliation and in an affirmation of sympathy and national solidarity.

Another argument which raises the hopes of our enemies is the existence of the masses. You know that I do not worship the new divinity, the masses. It is a creation of Democracy and Socialism. Just because they are numerous, they must be right? Not at all. The opposite has often proved to be true, namely that numbers are contrary to reason. In any case history proves that it has always been the minorities, a handful from the first, that have produced profound changes in human society. We do not adore the masses, even if they have sacred work-worn hands and brains. We shall bring, instead, into our examination of social life, conceptions and elements new at any rate in Italian circles. We could not reject these masses; they came to us. Ought we to have received them with kicks on the shins? Are they sincere? Are they insincere? Do they come to us as a result of conviction or fear? Or because they hope to get from us what they failed to obtain from the Socialists? These questions are really superfluous, as no one yet has found the way to penetrate into their innermost spirit.

We had to adopt syndicalism, and we are doing so. They say: "Your syndicalism will end up being in all ways exactly like that of Socialist syndicalism; and you will have, out of necessity, to promote class war."

The Democrats, or a section of the Democrats, that section which does not seem to have any better object than stirring up the mud, continue from Rome (where they print too many papers, many of which do not represent anyone or anything) to work in this direction.

But our syndicalism differs from that of the others, because we do not allow strikes in public services under any pretext. We are in favour of class cooperation, especially in a period of acute economic crisis like the present one. We try to make this conception penetrate the brains of our syndicates.

But it must be made equally clear that the industrialists and the employers must not blackmail us, because there is a limit beyond which you must not cross; and these industrialists and employers—the bourgeoisie, in a word—the bourgeoisie must realize that the Nation also consists of the people, a mass which labours, and one cannot think of the greatness of the Nation if this mass of workers is restless and idle. The task of Fascism is to make the mass an organic whole with the Nation, so that they may be ready tomorrow when the Nation has need of them, just as the artist takes his raw material in order to create his masterpiece.

Only with the masses forming an intimate part of the life and history of the Nation can we have a foreign policy.

And now I come to the subject which, at the present moment, is of the greatest importance. It is evident that at the end of the war it was not understood how to make peace. There were two alternatives: the peace of the sword, and the peace of approximate justice. Instead, under the influence of a pernicious democratic mentality, the peace of the sword was not made by occupying Berlin, Vienna and Budapest, and neither has the approximate peace of justice been accomplished.

Men, many of whom were ignorant of history and geography (and it seems that these famous experts who thus disarrange and rearrange the map of Europe at their will really know as little about it as their masters), have said: "The moment the Turks give trouble to England, we will suppress Turkey; but the moment that Italy, in order to become a Mediterranean power, ought to have the Adriatic as her inland gulf, we deny Italy her just rights in the Adriatic." What is the result? The result is that the more peripheral treaty naturally falls to pieces before the others. But, since everything depends upon the making up of these treaties, since they are all connected with each other, so the failure of the Treaty of Sevres may possibly involve the failure of all the others.

England, in my opinion, demonstrates that it no longer has a political class which is up to meeting the situation. In fact, you see that until now, for fifteen years, only one man personifies English politics. It is not yet been possible to replace him. Lloyd George, who, according to those who know him intimately, is a mediocre lawyer, represents the politics of the Empire for fifteen years! England on this occasion once more demonstrates the mercantile mentality of an empire which lives on her income and which abhors any effort which is her own, at the cost of blood. She makes an appeal to the Dominions and to Yugloslavia and to Romania. On the other hand, if things become more complicated in this respect, you will see the rise of the eternal and indestructible Russian Cossack, who may change his name but not his nature. Who armed the Turkey of Kemal Pasha? France and Russia. Who can arm the Germany of tomorrow? Russia. Considering the aim of our foreign policy, it is very fortunate that besides our national army, which has very glorious traditions, there is the Fascist army.

Our Ministers of Foreign Affairs should know how to play this card too, and throw it on the green carpet and say: "Beware that Italy no longer follows a policy of renunciation and cowardice, cost what it may!" (Prolonged applause. Enthusiastic cheers to Italian Fiume and to Italian Dalmatia. The coloured flag of Fiume is carried in triumph, amongst indescribable enthusiasm on stage. The demonstration is renewed and lasts more than five minutes).

I said, therefore, that while in the other countries they are beginning to have a clear realization of the force represented by Italian Fascism even in the field of foreign policy, our ministers continually assume the attitude of men who yield. They ask us what our program is. I have already answered this question, which is intended to be insidious, in a small meeting held in Levanto in the presence of thirty or forty Fascists, and I did not suppose that my speech, my little homely speech, would have had such widespread repercussions.

Our program is simple: we wish to govern Italy.

They ask us for programs, but there are already too many programs. It is not programs that are wanting for the salvation of Italy, but men and determination! (Applause). There is not an Italian who has not thought, or does not believe, that he possesses the one sure method by which the most pressing problems of our national life may be solved. But I think you are all convinced that our political class is deficient. The crisis of the Liberal State has proved it. We have made a splendid war from the point of view of individual and collective heroism. From having been soldiers, the Italians, in 1918 became warriors.

I beg you to note the essential difference.

But our political class conducted the war as if it were an affair of ordinary administration. These men whom we all know and whose physical images we carry in our minds now appear to us as men of the past, tattered, tired and vanquished.

I do not deny, in my absolute objectivity, that this bourgeoisie, which with a global title might be called Giolittian, has its merits. It certainly has. But today, when Italy is still fermenting in Vittorio Veneto—today, when Italy is bursting with life, with momentum, with passion—these men, who are above all accustomed to parliamentary mystification, do not appear to us to as being of a stature suitable for the height of these developments. (Applause). It is necessary, therefore, to consider how to replace this political class which has, in recent times, conducted a policy of surrender in the face of that swollen-headed puppet that is Italian Socialism.

I believe that this replacement has become necessary, and that the more radical it is the better. Undoubtedly  Fascism, which tomorrow will take the entire Nation by the arms (40 million, or rather 47 million Italians), will assume a tremendous responsibility. It is to be expected that many will be disappointed, because, in any case, there is always disappointment sooner or later, whether things are accomplished or not.

Friends! As in the life of the individual, the life of the people entails a certain amount of risk. One cannot hope to run for ever on the Decauville track of daily normality. One cannot always lead the laborious and routine life of an employee of the lotto, and this is said without the slightest insult to the employees of the so-called "gambling houses of the State." At a given moment both men and parties must have the courage to assume heavy responsibility and to adopt a daring policy, to try their muscles. They may succeed; they may fail. But there are also unsuccessful attempts that suffice to ennoble and uplift for all time the soul of a political movement such as Italian Fascism.

I had intended to repeat this speech in Naples, but I think that I shall have other things to deal with there.

Do not let us delay, therefore, about entering on the delicate subject of regime. Many polemics which were raised about my tendencies are forgotten, and everybody is convinced that the tendencies were not formed suddenly, but represented a settled idea. It is always this way. Certain attitudes appear improvised to the general public, which is neither fitted nor obliged to follow the slow changes which take place in a restless spirit desirous of making a profound examination of certain problems. But there is inward pain and toil, which is sometimes tragic. You must not think that the leaders of Fascism do not know what this individual, and above all national, tragedy is.

That famous republican tendency must have been a kind of attempt at reparation from the many elements which had come to us simply because we had won. These elements do not please us. These people who always side with the victor, and who are ready to change their flag with a change of fortune, must be looked upon with great suspicion and placed under the strictest supervision by the Fascists.

Is it possible—here is the question—to bring about a profound transformation in our political regime and to create a new Italy without touching the monarchic institution? Is it possible, that is, to renew Italy without calling into question the monarchy? And what is the attitude of the majority of Fascists as regards political institutions?

Our attitude in the face of political institutions does not bind us in any sense. In truth, perfect regimes are only to be found in the books of the philosophers. I think that it would have been disastrous for the Greek city if the theories of Plato, paragraph by paragraph, had been literally applied. A people content under a republic never dreams of having a king. A people not accustomed to a republic longs to return to a monarchy. It was in vain that the Germans tried to make the Phrygian cap fit their square heads. The Germans hate a republic, and the fact that it was imposed by the Entente and that it has been a kind of ersatz, is another reason for their hating this Republic.

Thus, generally speaking, political forms cannot be approved of or condemned for eternity, but must be examined from the point of view of their direct relation with the mentality, the economic condition and the spiritual force of any particular people. (A voice cries: "Long live Mazzini!"). Now, I think that the regime can be profoundly renovated without interfering with the monarchy. In reality—and I refer to the cry of my friend—the same Mazzini, republican and advocate of republicanism, did not consider his doctrines incompatible with the monarchic aspect of Italian unity. He resigned himself to it and accepted it. It was not his ideal, but the ideal cannot always be realized.

We shall, then, leave the monarchic institution outside our field of action, which will have other formidable targets, because we think that a great part of Italy would regard with suspicion a transformation in the regime which was carried that far. We would have regional separatism, perhaps, because it always happens that way. Today there are many indifferent to the monarchy who tomorrow would be its supporters, and who would find highly respectable and sentimental reasons for attacking Fascism, if it had dared to aim at this target.

In the end, I do not think that the monarchy has really any interest in opposing what must now be called the Fascist revolution. It is not in its best interests, because by doing so it would immediately make itself a target, in which case we could not spare it, because it would be a question of life or death for us. Those who sympathize with us must not withdraw into the shade; they must stay in the light. We must have the courage to be monarchists. Why were we Republicans? To a certain extent because we beheld a monarch who was not enough of a monarch. However, the monarchy would represent the historical continuity of the Nation; a beautiful task and one of incalculable historical importance.

On the other hand, the Fascist revolution must also avoid risking everything. Some firm ground must be left, so that the people shall not feel that everything is falling to pieces, or that everything must be started over, because in that case the first wave of enthusiasm would be followed by a wave of panic, and the second wave could perhaps overwhelm the first. However, one thing is very clear. The whole socialist-democratic superstructure must be destroyed.

We must have a State which will simply say: "The State does not represent a party, the State represents the national collectivity, it includes all, exceeds all, protects all, and fights anyone who attempts to undermine her inviolable sovereignty." (Thunderous prolonged applause).

This is the State which must arise from the Italy of Vittorio Veneto. A State which does not acknowledge that the strongest power is right; a State which is not like the Liberal State, which, after fifty years, was unable to establish a printing press so as to issue its own newspaper when there was a general strike of printers; a State which is not at the mercy of the omnipotence of the Socialists; a State which does not believe that problems can be settled only from the political point of view, because machine-guns are not enough if there is not the spirit to make them sing. The whole armoury of the State falls to pieces like the old scenery in an operatic theatre when it is not inspired by the most intimate sense of fulfilling a duty—nay, a mission.

That is why we want to strip the State of all its economic attributes. We have had enough of the State railwayman, the State postman and the State insurance official. Enough of the State operating at the expense of all the Italian tax-payers and aggravating the exhausted finances of the Italian State. Let there remain the police, who protect gentlemen from the attacks of thieves and of delinquents; let there remain the master educators of new generations; let there remain the army, which must guarantee the inviolability of the Fatherland, and let there remain the foreign policy. (Applause).

It must not be said that a State thus stripped will remain very small. No! It will remain very great, because there remains the whole spiritual dominion, while abdicating only the material dominion. (Prolonged ovation).

And now, O friends, I believe I have said enough and, in my opinion, I think you feel the same.

Citizens!

I have synthetically explained my ideas. It is enough, in my opinion, for you to individualize them.

If this mentality of ours was not sufficient, there is our method, there is our daily activity, which we do not intend to give up, though watching at the same time that it is not carried to extremes, that it does not transcend itself and damage Fascism. And when I say these words, I say them intentionally, because if Fascism was a movement like all the rest, then the attitude of the individual or of the group would have a relative importance. But our movement is a movement which has shed blood for its beliefs, and this must be remembered when there are attempts at autonomy and indiscipline. The dead of yesterday must be thought of above all things. It must be remembered that such autonomy and indiscipline could also arouse the miserable instincts of the Socialist beast, which, although weakened and subdued, still secretly hatches plots for revenge; a revenge which we shall prevent by collective action and by keeping our swords dry. After all, the Romans were right: if you want peace you must show yourself prepared for war. Those who are not prepared for war do not have peace, and are defeated and overthrown.

So we say to all our enemies: "It is not enough for you to go planting the tricolour in your cubbyholes and wine clubs. We wish to see you put to the test. You will have to undergo a sort of spiritual and political quarantine. Your leaders, who might again infect us, must be sent where they can do no harm." Only by thus avoiding the lure of the mistaken idea of quantity shall we succeed in saving the quality and the spirit of our movement, which is not ephemeral or transitory, since it has already lasted four years, and in this stormy century four years is equal to forty. Our movement is still in its prehistoric period and is still in the process of developing; its real history begins tomorrow. What Fascism has accomplished thus far has been negative work. Now we must begin to rebuild. In this way its force, its spirit and its nobility will manifest itself.

Friends!

I am sure that the leaders of Fascism will do their duty. I am also sure that the soldiers will do theirs. Before proceeding to the great tasks, we must make an inexorable selection from the rank and file. We cannot carry useless impedimenta; we are an army of velites, with a rearguard of bravoes, solid territorials. We do not wish to have treacherous elements in our midst.

I salute Udine, this dear old Udine to which I am bound by so many memories. Through its broad streets have passed generations and generations of Italians who were the purple flower of our race. Many of its young men now sleep their last sleep in the small isolated cemeteries of the Alps or along the Isonzo, now once again the sacred river of Italy.

Men of Udine! Fascists! Italians!

Take upon yourselves the spirit of these our unforgettable dead and make of it the burning spirit of our immortal Fatherland!