Saturday 3 March 2012

Speech in Milan, May 24, 1920

The Fifth Anniversary of Italy's Entry Into the War

By Benito Mussolini

Words, at certain times, can be facts. Let us act, then, in such a way that all the words we utter now may be potential facts today, and reality tomorrow.

Five years ago, at this time, popular enthusiasm burst forth in all the streets and squares of the towns of Italy. Looking back now and studying the documents of those times, I can state, with certainty and a clear conscience, that the cause of intervention was not taken up by the so-called bourgeoisie, but by the best and healthiest part of the Italian people. And when I say the people, I mean also the proletariat, because nobody could imagine that the thousands and thousands of citizens who followed Corridoni were all from the bourgeoisie. I remember that one Agricultural Chamber of Labour, that of Parma, declared in favour of intervention on the part of Italy with a great majority.

And even admitting that the war was a mistake, which I do not admit, he who spits on the sacrifice which has been made is despicable. If you want to go back and make a critical examination, I am ready to argue with anybody and to maintain:

First, that the war was desired by the Central Powers, as has been confessed by the politicians of the German Republic and confirmed by the imperial archives. Secondly, that Italy could not have remained neutral, and thirdly, that if she had, she would find herself, today, in a worse condition than she actually does.

On the other hand, we interventionists must not be surprised if the sea is tempestuous. It would be absurd to expect that a nation which had just passed through so grave a crisis would recover itself in twenty-four hours. And when you think that after two years we still have not yet got our peace, when you think about the treatment given to us by the Allies, when you think of the weakness of those who govern us, you will realize that certain crises of doubt are inevitable. But the war gave that which we required of it—it gave us victory.

When, not long ago, you hissed the song of the sickle and the hammer, you certainly did not mean to disdain these two instruments of human labour. There is nothing more beautiful and noble than the sickle, which gives us our bread, and nothing finer than the hammer, which shapes metals. We must not despise manual labour. We must understand that if it is overrated today, it is because mankind, as a whole, is suffering from a lack of material goods. It is natural, therefore, that those who produce these necessary items are excessively overrated. We do not represent a reactionary element. We tell the masses not to go too far, and not to expect to transform society by means of something which they do not understand. If there is to be transformation, it must come when the historical and psychological elements of our civilization have been taken into account.

We do not intend to oppose the movement of the working classes, but only intend to unmask the work of mystification which is carried on by a horde of bourgeois, semi-bourgeois and pseudo-bourgeois men, who think that they have become the saviours of humanity by the mere fact of possessing a membership card. We are not against the proletariat, but against the Socialist Party in as far as it continues to be anti-Italian. The Socialist Party continued, after the victory, to devalue the war, to fight against those who had been in favour of intervention, threatening reprisals and excommunications. Well, I, for my part, shall not give way. I laugh at excommunications, and as for reprisals, we shall answer with our own holy reprisals. But we cannot go against the people, because the people made the war. We cannot look with antipathy at the peasants, who today are agitating for the solution of the land problem. They commit excesses, but I ask you to remember that the backbone of the infantry was the peasantry, those who fought in the war were peasants.

We do not deceive ourselves by thinking that we shall succeed in sinking completely the now wrecked ship of Bolshevism. But I already note signs of repentance. I think that some day the working classes, tired of letting themselves be duped, will turn to us, recognizing that we have never flattered them, but have always told them the brutal truth, working really in their interests. If, today, Italy has not fallen into the Hungarian abyss, it is due to us, because we have saved it by active interposition and by our life. We have then one clear duty, which is to understand the social phenomenon which is developing before our eyes, and to fight the deceivers of the people and maintain a secure and immovable faith in the future of the nation.

There has always been a period of lassitude on the morrow of all great historical crises. But afterwards, little by little, the tired muscles recover. All that which before was neglected and despised becomes once more honoured and admired. Today nobody wants to talk of war, and it is natural. But when a certain period of time has elapsed, things will change, and a large part of the Italian people will recognize the moral and material value of victory, they will honour those who fought and will rebel against those Governments which do not guarantee the future of the nation. All the people will honour the great Arditi. It was the Arditi who went to the trenches singing, and if we returned from the Piave and the Isonzo, it is due to the Arditi; if we still hold Fiume, it is due to the Arditi; and if we are still in Dalmatia, we owe it to the Arditi.

Three martyrs, among the thousands who were consecrated to the Italian war, clearly defined what were to be the destinies of the nation: Battisti tells us that the boundary of Italy should be at the Brenner; Sauro tells us that the Adriatic must be an Italian sea and commercially Italo-Slav; and Rismondo tells us that Dalmatia is Italian. Very well! Let us swear upon the standard which bears the sign of death, of that death which gives life, and the life which does not fear death, to keep faith to the sacrifice of these martyrs!