Oh heavens...

This is one of those topics where familiarity with the context of the statement helps a lot in understanding its meaning, and the roots of its persistence.

So, the idea of an orderly and efficient society - a society "restored" by Fascism to be a "true" expression of the productive forces of the Nation - was certainly extremely important for the self-representation of the Regime. Still, this wasn't, and its particular forms especially weren't, an abstract petition of principle.

The idea that a modern, efficient infrastructure - and railroads perhaps in special manner - represented a necessary moment in the development of a XX Century state is one that we can essentially accept as true. It was certainly held as true by the Italian establishment, both before, during, and after Fascism. In this sense, the relative infrastructural backwardness was perceived as a telling sign of Italy struggling to close the gap with the other Western nations. The experience of the Great War, where scarcity of coal (towards the end of the conflict, reportedly, Italian carts had been forced to ran on low-grade lignites and similar), infrastructural bottlenecks, and inadequate maintenance of public wagons had significantly impaired public transportation. The idea of a modern, efficent, nation on the rise was difficult to reconcile with the idea that the train to town passed on Tuesday morning and the train back from town on Wednesday evening.

After the war, the idea of a return to order, to normalcy, tended to align with that of return to production - "productivism" as a precondition for better living conditions for the masses. This theme, certainly embraced by Mussolini, wasn't exclusive to Italy (nor to Italian Fascism), and you can see similar ideas espoused by the French CGdT, by the British governments during the phase of attempted openings to Labour, or across the Atlantic. The masses though didn't necessarily agree with the idea that the supposedly bountiful spoils of a victorious war had to be earned anew with a solicitous and dedicated return to the fields and factories. Partly due to the influence of the Russian Revolution, partly due to the identification of the war with a moment of social renovation (if not, in itself, "revolutionary"), partly due to their often harsh living conditions, a large portion of the Italian labor forces proved extremely impatient with the new promises of "productivism".

In fairness, the Italian political forces supportive of this platform - Nitti for instance - did conceive it as a starting point not only for a process of economical development (or at least, to come out of the war still on one's legs), but also of a tentative process of democratization. It appears, nonetheless, that this "democracy" was not enough to satisfy the mounting demands and Italy saw the opening of a rather violent period of social and economical tension.

It is in this period that the Fascist movement appeared and consolidated its position as a proper political force, first by progressively aligning with those groups which intended to prevent a "democratic" transformation modeled on the Soviet example, and then by extending its influence over portions of that same dissatisfaction with the establisment and instances of social renovation.

Long before that moment, Mussolini's Popolo d'Italia - and with it a non insignificant portion of the Italian public - had embraced a certain "anti-Bolshevik" sentiment; a tone of condescending disdain bordering on anger and resentment, more than a precise political or economical belief, that must be familiar to all those who have participated to a "politically charged" debate.

In this context - and more broadly relating to the "productivist" criticism of the "maximalist" Direction of the PSI - strikes, especially when politically motivated (hence not directed at improvement of the economical conditions of the labor force) were seen, and framed, as an "offense" against the whole of Italy's productive society. And worst of all, were the strikes of the labor elites - public workers - and especially, railway workers who, furthermore, had earned a reputation for being shirkers due to their qualified status offering an easier pathway to military exemptions.

It was the very idea that "Bolshevism" had taken root at the core of the State's infrastructure, among those men who were entrusted with the very life of the Nation, and whose salary and occupation was ensured by the State itself, that certain groups (but, to be fair, significant portions of the masses themselves) profoundly misliked. In this sense, railway workers' strikes were seen as a "moral" attempt against the Nation, as a veritable "slight" investing elements of social tension, class conflict and strucutral grudges far beyond the assessment of its detrimental economical impact.

Before concluding the argument, I'd recommend checking one of the corsivi penned by playwright and publicist Arturo Rossato for the Popolo d'Italia (here under his other pseudonym Uno qualunque, which he used for his Milanese corsivi instead of the nation-wide Arros).

I was on the Cagnola line, number 85, this morning, a few minutes to nine; two old ladies, ordinary people [gente del popolo], going to work, and one proletarian gentleman, railway conductor, who was already at work, and therefore had nothing to do. Or, beg your pardon, was standing there – proletarians are always making a stand – arms folded. Meaning, he was at work.

One of the two ladies was talking audibly [In dialect, which I really can't render] - I'm telling you, it's about time we end with these strikes all over again. The other day, when railway workers went on strike, I had to walk back home with my ticket, which I had paid already. Frauds, they are. And, I'm telling you, the sweet prayers I sent for Lenin and his fellows. Our dear mechanics, nowadays, what kind of dumbassery! [Bei asnad fan incoeu, sti cari operari]

The educated and conscious railway worker, with his arms folded and a frown like two chewed up smokes, was listening. And when the impudent old lady was alone, and the tram was crossing a solitary overpass, he bravely came close to her and told in a whisper: “that's the way it is, if you like ma'am, and if you don't, it's much of the same!” [se ci piace l'è così, e se non ci piace l'è così ancamò!]

In Italian, you see? One who curses his Motherland!

But that wasn't enough for him. When the resolute old lady stepped down to a nearby newsstand in order to buy a newspaper, and precisely our newspaper, the proud smokes-chewer of the world to be, the poster child of the future Internationale, the conscious rustic who must still reek of home-brewed manure and half-digested hay, peeked out of his the cart window and begun to insult the poor lady... from the heights of his podium... napoleonically.

Well, I can forgive Milanese firefighters when they get... fired up to defend the Major. Traditions matter, and there isn't one who doesn't know how each single firefighter thinks they are all members of the Major's close family. But that railway workers of all people, hicks and peasants in livery, ticket scroungers living off card touting socialism, draught animals good for the yoke, take the liberty of insulting women, who express their views in private conversation, that's something I can't suffer. […]