LizaHadiz

fascism

Early in the morning of the special day, the noise and bustle of families getting ready echo through the open windows of the building. Quickly, Antonietta pours the coffee already waiting on the stove, brings the filled cup to the table—between the uniforms she had just ironed—to add some sugar. Now with cup, saucer, and teaspoon in her left hand and uniforms draping on the arm, she walks to each bed to wake the kids one by one. While taking small sips of coffee from the spoon, she hands each child their uniform. Finally reaching the last bed—the sixth and biggest—she wakes her husband and hands him the coffee. The rounds are not over yet. Next to Papa, buried under the covers, is their youngest!

This is the special day, all of Rome are getting ready for the parade. Not Antonietta, however, even though she is a big supporter of Il Duce. Her wifely duties do not allow her the luxury to spend a whole day out of the house, unlike women who have domestic helpers. Antonietta will miss the historical moment Il Duce welcomes German fascist leader, Adolf Hitler, on his seven-day visit to Italy.

Hitler’s visit to Italy on May 3rd, 1938 was a significant moment in the history of fascism. Despite the fanfare, Mussolini or Il Duce, as he was called, did not agree to a military alliance with Germany. Nonetheless, after this visit, Mussolini began introducing laws which marginalized Italy’s Jewish people.

Having stayed home, on that special day Antonietta experienced a life changing moment. Whilst trying to catch her escaped bird, it was when she by chance met her neighbor, Gabriele, who lived across her apartment building. The bird had flown near Gabriele’s window while he was at his desk, contemplating suicide. After an exchange of visits on that day, she learned that Gabriele was a radio broadcaster who was fired and will be deported to Sardinia. His crime: being gay. Unlikely as it may seem, the two instantly connected. They both learned of each other’s life and their different views of the government, and as the story unfolds, the odd couple fell in love.

This is the storyline of the critically acclaimed Italian film A Special Day, directed by Ettore Scola and produced by Carlo Ponti. Released in May 1977, starring Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni, the film received many awards, including the César Award, Golden Globe Film, and Nastro d'Argento, in addition to two Academy Award nominations. Interestingly, Mussolini’s granddaughter, Alessandra Mussolini was cast in the film.

Through the events of one day, the film gives a daunting picture of life under fascism. The omnipresence of the ruler in daily life is interwoven into the narrative and through the background sound of the parade taking place.

The story revolves around Antonietta (Sophia Loren), a low-educated, lower middle-class housewife. She is the image of the ideal Italian woman under fascism—an admirer of Il Duce, a devoted housewife and mother; a devotion extended to the state. “I have six children”, Antonietta said as she introduced herself to Gabriele (Marcello Mastroianni). “By the seventh, they will give you a bonus.”

The government gave prizes and compensations to encourage women to bear many children with the aim of increasing the Italian population and army reserve. Single men, like Gabriele, in contrast, were taxed.

Antonietta’s husband (John Vernon) is the typical Italian fascist male of the time—the breadwinner and savior who treats his wife like an inferior being and has affairs with other women. Nevertheless, like the beloved Italian woman of the time, her family and the kitchen are the center of Antonietta’s life. From the kitchen table she would gaze out the window while pouring the remains from other cups into her cup—never really having her own cup (or life), except during Gabriele’s visit. Il Duce is present in family life through his picture that overlooks the kitchen. How the occupants are able to see each other through the windows is an extension of state surveillance.

“You forgot to take this,” said Gabriele, who suddenly appeared at Antonietta’s door, holding The Three Musketeers, the book which he had recommended earlier to Antonietta. He ended up coming inside and grinding coffee beans (and spilling some on the floor) for the cup of coffee Antonietta had offered. Then came a knock on the door. The caretaker (Françoise Berd) had come to warn Antonietta about Gabriele, who she knew was visiting Antonietta.

However, Antonietta was smitten by Gabriele, a liberal, antifascist, and gay radio broadcaster on the verge of suicide.

However, Antonietta was smitten by Gabriele, a liberal, antifascist, and gay radio broadcaster on the verge of suicide. How they made love, considering Gabriele’s sexual orientation, is open to interpretation—except for the conclusion that Antonietta had changed him. In fact, it was Antonietta who was changed by this encounter as she now sees fascism in a different light.

The film, however, did not fully capture the public life of Italian women under fascism. Although confined to domesticity, thousands to millions of women were enrolled in government-created women’s organizations.

In line with the state’s gender ideology, many women’s organizations focus on maternal health issues and care for newborns. However, these organizations were not merely a campaign to mobilize female supporters. They served an important purpose in reducing Italy’s high infant mortality rate, which was at 106.2 deaths for every 1,000 lives in 1938—the highest in Europe. Mussolini believed that a rapid increase in the Italian population could be achieved by banning contraception, illegalizing abortion, and establishing mass women’s organizations, where women worked to assist other women to improve hygiene, health, and nutrition.

From this view, fascist policies which excluded women did not completely isolate women from society.

From this view, fascist policies which excluded women did not completely isolate women from society. Women, in fact, had an important social role within the fascist framework, whilst any role was absent in the previous liberal state. Although these organizations controlled and limited women’s role as reproductive machines, in their own way, they empowered women. It was the first time any assistance of the kind, which improved women’s knowledge and skills about health and maternity, included women of all levels of the society. Nevertheless, the effectiveness of these organizations is debatable and despite a nationwide propaganda to promote the nobleness of motherhood, the population did not significantly increase and many women continued to work because of necessity.

All in all, A Special Day depicts how fascism penetrated into the private sphere, controlled and oppressed the individual, as reflected in the lives of Antonietta and Gabriele. She was treated as the chattel in the battle for population; he, the male degenerate.

In the evening of the special day, the authorities came for Gabriele. While gathering his things, he accidentally found a few coffee beans in the pocket of his suit. Slightly bewildered, he took a quick glance across the window. Minutes later, from her window, Antonietta watched as Gabriele leaves in the night escorted by two men. She was reading aloud the first few pages of The Three Musketeers—the political tale he left her with.

-Some Thoughts from the Cappuccino Girl- (2023)

#films #cinema #Italy #fascism #history #gender

Images: Cult Film trailers: https://youtu.be/KloWrqcHAF0

Read about modern political strongmen: Political Strongmen and the Crisis of Democracy

If you are interested in how population polices affect women, read: Only Women Breed: Population Policies and Gender

Sources:

Cavendish, Richard (2008) ‘Hitler and Mussolini Meet in Rome.’ Historytoday https://www.historytoday.com/archive/hitler-and-mussolini-meet-rome (Accessed 22 January 2023).

Monti, Jennifer Linda (2011) The Contrasting Image of Italian Women under Fascism in the 1930’s. Syracuse University Honors Program Capstone Projects. 714. https://surface.syr.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1706&context=honors_capstone (Accessed 26 December 2022).

The nineteenth to twentieth century in western Europe was a period when the intellectual community and the cultural and art movements flourished. Austria, particularly Vienna, and the Weimar Republic, particularly Berlin, were the centers of these cultural movements where the salon and coffeehouse culture grew. During this period, women enjoyed inclusion in some areas of the public sphere, while economic and political discrimination prevails. The wars, power struggles, and economic and political instabilities all played a role in women’s changing position in society at the onset of fascism.

Vienna, the multicultural city of immigrants in the 19th century, was famous for its European salon culture. Conceived by the middle and upper classes, the salons provided the medium for intellectual discussion and critical thinking. Moreover, the salons provided a space for the integration of the Jewish immigrants into society's elites. The salon culture was also a means of acculturation and emancipation for Jewish women. In Vienna and Berlin, many of these salons were hosted by educated Jewish women. The salon culture, however, was soon replaced by the more accessible and popular coffeehouse culture.

In 19th century Vienna and Berlin, coffeehouses became a meeting place for people from diverse backgrounds, including the less wealthy, and served as a place for intellectuals to exchange ideas and hold discussions. The coffeehouse culture was closely associated with the Jewish intellectual and artistic community. However, coffeehouses excluded women, supporting the conservative gender ideology of the time.

The coffeehouses grew to become an important part of Viennese multicultural urban life. Viennese coffeehouses gave birth to a new generation of movements, such as the Young Vienna modernist literary movement which was spearheaded by male Jewish intellectuals. Vienna’s intellectual community thrived to influence ideas which developed throughout Europe.

Nonetheless the inevitable was to come. The influx of immigrants crowded the city and affected the workforce, turning Vienna into a breeding ground for conservatism, nationalism, and anti-Semitism. In the last decade of the century up to 1914—known as the “Fin-de-Siècle” or turn of the century—the coffeehouse culture faced the challenge of rising anti-Semitism, while the salons continued to decline due to prevalent misogyny and antifeminism.

The golden age of liberalism ended in 1895 when conservative powers took over. This was followed by a weakening middle class and the quite death of the salons. The coffeehouse intellectuals who played an important role in the advancement of liberalism were fighting a losing battle.

Politics took another turn after the First World War. A strong labor and feminist movement grew out of the postwar crisis in Vienna and had set the motion for radical changes in policies which favored the working class, including the women. “Red Vienna”, home to migrant laborers from across the empire, became the haven for workers’ power.

Unsuspectedly too, the Great War was like a blessing in disguise for the women of the Weimar Republic (Germany in 1918–1933). Before the war, Germany was a constitutional monarchy with a parliament elected by adult males. After the war, with the removal of the Kaiser, Germany became a republic with representative democracy. Women were given political and economic rights. Besides gaining the right to vote, women were also granted equality in marriage and the professions.

The new independent woman of the Weimar Republic was coined the “New Woman” and she became the icon of the republic’s golden liberal era and the face of popular media. After women had a taste of economic independence when working during wartime to replace men, many continued to work and enjoyed an active social life. Women were able to do what was unthinkable just a few years before: enjoy the single life, smoke, drink, drive a car, and dance in jazz clubs. The coffeehouses were no longer a male domain as it were before the war; women were free to roam the coffeehouses unchaperoned. In Berlin, the center of Weimar culture, well-known Jewish women writers and artists were regulars at coffeehouses, such as the Romanisch Café.

However, unlike the image of the New Woman and its café lifestyle—which was sexualized and exploited by the media—in reality, women continued to face economic and political discrimination under Weimar liberalism. After supporting the workforce in wartime, the majority of working women became menial workers with the re-employment of men and then used as cheap labor. Meanwhile, in politics, women only had access to areas related to the home and family, such as health, education, and religion.

So, when politics took a different turn and the Nazis came to power—they, although rather ironically, had the blessings of the Weimar women. War reparations, hyperinflation, the collapse of the economy in 1923, and the Depression that followed had the republic on its knees. The economic crisis and a weakened government paved the way for the fascist party, which many, including the Weimar women, saw as offering the only hope for rebuilding the country. With no real political role to play, Weimar women leaders looked to Hitler to secure their political positions and thus gave their support to the Nazi party. Unfortunately, this was poor judgement.

Weimar’s fall in 1933 was followed by Red Vienna succumbing to the economic and political pressure of the conservative federal state in 1934. The end of the Weimar Republic and the annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany in 1938 saw an exodus of the Jewish population which had played an important role in the development of both countries. Subsequently, women were reduced to their reproductive role under fascist ideology. The crises and weakened regimes provided fascism with the means to rise to power by convincing many that it will transcend liberalism, democracy, and socialism.

-Some Thoughts from the Cappuccino Girl- (2022)

#Vienna #Austria #Weimar #Germany #war #salonculture #coffeehouseculture #women #gender #fascism #politics #history

I have written about the above topics before, if you're interested read:

More about Vienna and its coffeehouse culture: https://feministpassion.blogspot.com/2018/05/turn-of-century-vienna-liberalism.html

More about the Weimar New Woman: https://feministpassion.blogspot.com/2020/04/from-weimar-new-woman-to-mother-of.html

Sources

BBC Bitesize (2022) The Growth of Democracy in Germany, 1890-1929. https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/guides/zcwxrdm/revision/2. (Accessed 29 January 2022).

Buzynski, Isabella and Kai Mishuris (2014) ‘Jewish Café Culture in Berlin.’ ArcGIS StoryMaps https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/73fce8a685b64bb29fe87715bf72dc12 (Accessed 29 January 2022).

Galerie St. Etienne (2006) More Than Coffee was Served, Café Culture in Fin-de-Siècle Vienna and Weimar Germany. https://www.gseart.com/exhibitions-essay/1016 (Accessed 30 January 2022).

Mann, Michael (2004) 'The Rise and Fall of Fascism.' UCLA Book Reviews. https://escholarship.org/uc/item/9pg469w2 (Accessed 30 January 2022).

Schirn.de (2017) Splendor and Misery in the Weimar Republic. http://www.schirn.de/glanzundelend/digitorial/en (Accessed 30 January 2022).

Wilhelmy-Dollinger, Petra (1999) ‘Berlin Salons: Late Eighteenth to Early Twentieth Century.’ Shalvi/Hyman Encyclopedia of Jewish Women. Jewish Women's Archive. https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/berlin-salons-late-eighteenth-to-early-twentieth-century. (Accessed 30 January 2022).

“Calling to arms all men from 21 to 55 years old, Italy can mobilize 8,000,000 men, and adding young men of 18, 19, and 20 years more than 9,000,000 ….”

The nation’s leader, Benito Mussolini—or better known as II Duce to his people—did not fail to cast a spell on the cheering crowd on the 30th of March 1938. His speech continued to spark the crowd as he shouted,

“This shows how ridiculous are the polemics of certain circles beyond the Alps according to which the African war, the formation of two army corps in Libya and the participation of volunteers in the Spanish war have weakened us.

On the contrary, all that strengthened us …”

In fascist Italy, the modern Italian man is what makes up the nation—he is the nation, the nation is him. War was no longer seen as misery, but an honor. It was a time of great hope and pride as II Duce attempted to revive the glory of the Roman Empire. The men were the soldiers; the women were mothers who earned medals for supplying the nation with its soldiers and workers.

The fascist regime promoted espresso to the workers. In the morning, workers line up against the counters of espresso bars, sipping their cups only for minutes, before dashing off to work for the nation. The new steam espresso machine makes coffee fast like a speeding steam train, but just cool enough to immediately drink. In only seconds the espresso will flow smoothly from the machine like a long mouse tail into the small cups, an analogy with the steam trains, which in a split second, will arrive at the stations as scheduled. Even though the promptness of the trains was false, both the train and the espresso machine served as Mussolini’s propaganda to demonstrate the technological advancement, industrialization, and modernization of what was once a war-torn Italy.

The nation was trying to rise from its knees by the lift of a strongman as the memory of the First World War had slowly dwindled but not forgotten. For Mussolini, founder of Italy’s National Fascist Party—the Italian espresso was the nation’s drink, that of a modern Italy. For the nation’s strongman, it was political as much as cultural.

Looking back, who would have thought that the strongman, who vowed to lift Italy from the trenches, would be executed in humiliation as he was by the people of his country? On April 28, 1945, Mussolini was captured while trying to flee with his mistress.

The empire Mussolini aspired to build did not, by far, have the military skills of the Romans. The dictator who was responsible for the war losses and death of his people had left his wife of three decades and their children to escape and save himself.

Even more humiliating was what happened after his death. On April 29th, 1945, the bodies of II Duce and his mistress, Clara Petacci, and three supporters who were executed along with them, were hanged upside down at the town square of Milan to satisfy the angry mob. This event is what is best remembered of the strongman who fell from grace.

Nonetheless, the Italian espresso and the coffee bars that Mussolini used in his fascist propaganda were quickly disassociated with the strongman. The Italian espresso culture lived on to be celebrated around the world.

-Some Thoughts from the Cappuccino Girl- (2021)

#fascism #WorldWar1 #WorldWar2 #Italy #Espresso #history

Note: Mussolini’s speech is quoted from: http://bibliotecafascista.blogspot.com/2012/03/speech-in-senate-march-30-1938.html.

I first wrote this piece as a historical fiction short story, although it may have not turned out too well. In case you are interested, you can read it here: The Strongman's Espresso https://feministpassion.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-strongmans-espresso.html.

Coffee has always had the magic to draw people together and chat. For some autocratic rulers, this is a recipe for political unrest. So for reasons related to rulers’ anxiety, coffee was banned in Mecca in 1511, Cairo in 1532, Constantinople in 1623, and Prussia in 1777, and was almost banned in England in 1675.

On the contrary, Mussolini, who founded Italy’s National Fascist Party in November 9th 1921, was not afraid of a coffeehouse full of men. In fact, coffee bars and espresso were an important part of Mussolini’s state propaganda to build a national identity. Mussolini replaced the English word “barman” with “barista” to certify the Italian coffee culture. Espresso bars with the modern technology of espresso machines represented the “modern Italian man”, just like a quick cup of espresso: vigorous and on the go.

Fascism of course relies on cultural unity, but equally important is the making of a national economic vanguard. Mussolini found the latter in Italy’s domestically produced aluminum which was set to lead the national economy. Interestingly, this idea went hand in hand with the idea of espresso representing Italy’s national drink. In 1933, Alfonso Bialetti invented the first celebrated stovetop “Moka Express” espresso maker using guess what? Aluminum! (Read more in Jeffrey T. Schnapp, ‘The Romance of Caffeine and Aluminum’, 2001).

Interestingly too, while for fascist Italy coffee resonated with the idea of strong, dynamic, and energetic men, its ally, Germany had a completely different view of coffee. Under Nazi rule, caffeine was viewed as a stimulant that would poison the pure Aryan flesh. But the German people could still enjoy that ah… irresistible taste of fresh brewed coffee. Decaffeinated coffee, invented by Ludwig Roselius in Bremen in 1905, was widely popular in 1930s Germany. Would you have guessed this link between decaf and fascism? But that’s a story we will have to discuss another time.

Back to Italy. Apparently, the aluminum Moka Express didn’t take off that well during war time. In part, this was due to limited production and marketing. It was not until post-World War II when Bialetti’s son launched a nation-wide marketing campaign and increased the production of the Moka Express, that it finally became a household name. Along with the fall of fascism, changes in postwar Italy’s family values and gender roles encouraged the acceptance of this home appliance. This changed espresso from being a drink associated with the male-dominated public domain to a common drink in the private domain. Made in the comfort of the kitchen, a cup of espresso is now a family affair. Nothing like politics and a good cup of Italian espresso!

-Some Thoughts from the Cappuccino Girl- (2019)

#coffee #espresso #Italy #fascism #worldwarII #history