Week 101

 

Arturo Rossato – novelist, playwright, librettist (for Zandonai) – rather than in consideration of his literary achievements, is likely to come under the eye of the historian because of his involvement in a famous controversy which pitted him, together with Giovanni Capodivacca, against their former employer, Benito Mussolini, during early 1920. The “Rossato-Capodivacca dispute”, as it came to be known, opened in earnest when the two redaction members, who had previously informed Mussolini (on December 5^th 1919) of their desire to interrupt their collaboration with his newspaper at the end of the current month, appealed to the Lombard Association of Journalists after failing to secure a severance deal. Mussolini, on the other hand, argued that the choice to leave had been motivated in substance by a political disagreement (the two had explained to him that they didn't feel comfortable with the “violent polemics” involving the Milanese newspaper and the Fasci, which they also regarded as “pointless and untimely given the new political situation”) coming to light after the elections of November. An argument that was somewhat persuasive, as their choice had come immediately after the electoral debacle of the Fasci, and on the score of Mussolini's (somewhat accidental and untimely) arrest on November 18^th – that is in what appeared to be the lowest point of Mussolini's political and editorial career, when various voices were, for one reason or another, distancing themselves from their old “boss”.

Failure to achieve an accommodation resulted in an arbitration, finalized in February 1920 (publication of excerpts took place on both the Avanti! and the Popolo d'Italia on the 13^th and 14^th of February) and ruling in favor of Mussolini. The proceedings and deliberations of the council of the probiviri were nonetheless made public – in good measure, and especially the most “sensitive” portions – revealing how part of the disagreement resided in Mussolini's liberal use of the funds collected to support D'Annunzio's occupation of Fiume, which were spent, also, to pay for Mussolini's “security” during the electoral campaign. There is no need to say that the socialist press – and the Avanti! especially – provided extensive coverage to the proceedings; but the accusations against Mussolini also caused some long term frictions with D'Annunzio's movement, despite the Poet's subsequent public reassurances that he had indeed approved the use of those funds to pay those Legionnaires who had moved to Milan to assist the Fasci against the socialist threats.

The accusations of course, would return to the public attention after Mussolini's choice to sacrifice Fiume and D'Annunzio, or at least to operate a sensible and practical revision of his commitment to D'Annunzio's movement during the negotiations for his involvement with Giolitti's National Block.

This episode, as well as the resulting accusations of subtracting significant amounts of money from the funds collected for Fiume, is in itself little more than a workplace dispute, and wouldn't warrant much attention, if not for its revealing character of the state of profound crisis of the fascist movement at the turn of 1919-20 – a crisis that was, in part, expression of internal recriminations and dissatisfaction for Mussolini's leadership, or lack thereof, in part convenient excuse to leave a ship that had begun to sink just a few miles from the harbor, and in part genuine disillusionment for those elements who had attempted to infuse the Fasci with their own – either more radical or less radical, depending on whom you ask – ideological contribution. Indeed Rossato and Capodivacca weren't the only defections: in the following weeks, other significant contributors to the Fasci and to the redaction of the Popolo d'Italia such as former member of the National Direction E. Mecheri and recurrent contributor A. Lanzillo would end their fascist experience.

As for Mussolini, it's obvious that his major concern was to prevent a public falling out with D'Annunzio, given how the press campaign in favor of Fiume had been one of his most consistent and reliable horses – a result which was achieved, for the time being at least, with the aforementioned public statement by D'Annunzio. In fact, the accusations themselves reveal a certain measure of instrumentality. There is no doubt that most of the people donating to the cause of Fiume had not meant to fund Mussolini's electoral campaign, but the vast majority of his coworkers and even acquaintances were well aware of Mussolini's liberality with his funds, and with those of others. Furthermore, the amount of money put to a different destination appears by many accounts to have been limited, constituting only a minor portion of the total. Which means that this was far from the worst instance of “misuse” that could be brought to light, if one wanted to, and revealing more of Mussolini's position of relative weakness, than of his dubious handling of affairs.

For now though, we have more pressing matters to attend. Arros and Giancapo - as they signed their pieces for the Popolo d'Italia - had been with Mussolini since the beginning, in November 1914, and likely expected a favorable treatment in consideration of their relative seniority. Their argument against Mussolini's “violent polemics” is nonetheless a bit bizarre given the tone of their own recurring contributions.

If Capodivacca was a more practical, versatile but less distinguished publicist, Arros was a professional of redaction corsivi - those brief-ish commentaries, that is, which fall short of a proper opinion piece but try very hard to avoid the blandness of a “general mood” piece – where he could make use of his fanciful literary ways to compose a few “random thoughts on current events”. In this practice, Rossato could hardly be faulted for excessive moderation.

On July 11^th – two days after the reopening of the Italian Chamber with the proper inauguration of Nitti's Ministry – it was Arros who shared his views on Enrico Ferri, “the filthiest whore in Italy”, “the vilest of cowards”, the “most disgusting carrion”, spreading “his savage anger from the whorehouse of Montecitorio” against the Italian soldiers. The old socialist representative – a somewhat peculiar character of the Italian Parliament – had cast a less than favorable light on D'Annunzio's military record, and especially accused him of being in the habit of “exploiting women”, in the closing remarks of his speech. Ferri's speech – a rather sensible one for the most part – had centered on a vindication of the neutralist arguments going through various points of criticism of the Italian intervention, conduct of the war and subsequent diplomatic action in Paris. While its tone certainly couldn't please the interventionist forces, the reference to D'Annunzio had been almost incidental (even his choice of words may appear somewhat puzzling), stemming from a cautious defense of Wilson's attitude during his state visit of early January 1919. On May 4^th – during his famous speech of the Augustan theater – at the peak of the general outrage sparked by Wilson's declaration of April 23^rd 1919, the Poet had made a few unfavorable remarks not only on the US President but on his wife as well. These had been noteworthy enough – despite the good care of the Italian censorship, which suppressed a good third of the overall speech, and especially the parts dedicated to Wilson, resuming with the praise for “the people of Washington and Lincoln” who could not be truly represented by “some Quaker” - for the Italian government to express some concern that similar remarks, made by the herald of the Italian intervention himself, could actually contribute to worsen Wilson's attitude on the Italian matters. Hence Ferri's old fashioned, and a bit silly, observation that D'Annunzio – a man who “exploited” women by entertaining relations with them without perspectives of marriage – should abstain from making negative remarks on someone else's wife.

In turn, this criticism of D'Annunzio, coming from a man who had avoided the dangers and sufferings of four years of war to make a living out of socialism, and “secured his position by marrying a wealthy woman”, was unacceptable for the “national” forces and prompted a series of exchanges, conveniently omitted from the transcription, which caused a suspension and the adjournment of the discussion to the subsequent day. Which didn't improve much the tone of the interactions. Arros wasn't especially concerned with the contents of Ferri's anti-interventionist statements, but rather urging the many mothers of the Italian fallen to “spit on his face, on his craven face, on his whore face, on his coward face” or “to tie a noose around his neck and hang him at the first light pole”.