The Entrepreneurial Bourgeoisie and Fascism

5

The Entrepreneurial Bourgeoisie and Fascism

Alessio Gagliardi

Fascism and Society in Recent Historiography

The relationship between Fascism and social class long constituted a primary theme of historical analysis of Mussolini’s regime, before

gradually losing center stage over the last thirty years. Since then, thanks to a greater understanding of how mass society and totalitarian systems work, and due also in part to the cultural turn particularly prevalent in Anglophone historiography, studies of Fascism have registered a pro-found shift in both the questions posed and the analytical tools used to understand the regime. Instead of emphasizing the old dichotomy of pro-paganda and terror, recent studies have been more interested in issues of ideology, aesthetics, political liturgy, and popular consent. Indeed, many such studies have focused their attention on consent— a subject long neglected— seeking its roots in Fascist ideology and its political liturgy. Among its other effects, this recent scholarship has actually reduced the role assigned to social class in determining individual attitudes toward Fascism and the regime.1

The intimations and suggestions put forward by Renzo De Felice, who was among the first scholars to broach the question of popular consent toward Fascism, have remained underdeveloped. De Felice, in fact, had tied the issue of consent to Fascism’s ability to mobilize the middle classes and to the dialectical rapport between a rising middle class and the tra-ditional bourgeoisie.2 The comprehensive interpretations of the Fascist phenomenon put forward in the last three decades, however, have largely employed a “top- down” approach, privileging the methods by which Fas-cism moved toward society rather than the ways in which society inter-preted and adapted its own relationship toward the regime. This entirely

110 ALESSIO GAGLIARDI

appropriate emphasis on the unifying or nationalistic content of Fascist discourse, believed to be the primary foundation of popular consent and loyalty toward the regime, nevertheless relegated class distinctions within the social body to a secondary plane and thus overlooked the multiple and diverse reactions of society to that discourse.

And yet, Fascism tied its political- ideological project of nationalizing the masses to a profound intervention in society through a complex net-work of institutions— one need think only of the Partito Nazionale Fascista (National Fascist Party) or the Opera Nazionale Dopolavoro (National Lei-sure Time Organization)— into which it channeled various social groups, imposing duties and offering resources. While the regime’s ideology invoked a uniform leveling of the social body, the set of institutions it cre-ated produced and sanctioned the differentiation, separation, and creation of hierarchies among various social groups, each of which had a precise position in the eyes of the regime and was delegated a specific role.

In light of these considerations, it is clearly useful to return to the rela-tionship between Fascism and social class, while avoiding the ideological and schematic traps that marked the usage of these concepts to varying degrees in previous historiographical eras. Naturally, the relationship between a specific social group and the political system that governs it is a product of countless variations in the consciousness and behavior of a large number of autonomous individuals. There will, of course, always be many single cases that defy easy categorization in one way or another. But extrapolating generalizations does not mean simply compiling a sort of average from individual thoughts or actions but rather evaluating the aggregate behaviors of a social group understood as a collective on the basis of common interests, expectations, and demands; of shared tradi-tions and values; and of mechanisms of collective representation.

If analysis of the relationship between Fascism and social class is still necessary,3 the case of the Italian entrepreneurial class is particularly so— above all because the most important figures of the Italian business com-munity constituted a real source of economic power that forged a uniquely complex relationship with the political power wielded by the Fascist regime.

Between Social and Political History

Understanding the role played by the entrepreneurial bourgeoisie in Fas-cist Italy requires a two- pronged approach. First, we need to assess this group as a class or, more broadly, as a social body, examining its unique structure, its evolution, the economic power at its disposal, the political influence it was able to exert, and the cultural touchstones shared by the

THE ENTREPRENEURIAL BOURGEOISIE AND FASCISM 111

majority of its members. It is thus fundamental to comprehend the eco-nomic processes that contributed to shaping its size, its composition, its internal hierarchies, and its relationship to the state and the rest of soci-ety— in particular, we need to consider the rise of a model of productivity tied to the innovations of the second industrial revolution, the collapse of international markets due to the First World War, and the global crisis and policies of state intervention. Second, we must highlight its political dimension and understand the industrial bourgeoisie as one of the major actors in that “authoritarian compromise”— alongside the monarchy, the church, the army, and the upper echelons of public administration— that allowed Mussolini and the Fascist hierarchy to seize and consolidate their political power and that subsequently influenced their decisions.4 In this sense, the business community appears as an active interlocutor in one of several diarchies of authority on which the Fascist state rested.

The foundations of this compromise can be found in the two years prior to the March on Rome. This is not to imply that the subsequent con-solidation of the Fascist dictatorship can be reduced to a mere “bourgeois revolt.”5 Nevertheless, in the two years prior to October 28, 1922, two fac-tors encouraged a significant part of the business class to turn toward the camicie nere (Blackshirts). On one hand, the recent wartime experience of industrial mobilization had offered an effective model of social col-laboration.6 On the other, however, the dramatic upheaval of the biennio rosso (“red biennium” of 1919– 20) was greeted with rancor mixed with a profound sense of defeat, which industrialists perceived— as deliberations within their associations confirm— to be a genuine threat to the entire sys-tem as well as a revelation of the weakness of the liberal political class.7 The point of no return can be identified in the encouragement and support that Milanese economic circles gave the Fascists immediately prior to the March on Rome. Some years later, industrial magnate Alberto Pirelli would recall the meeting between Mussolini and several industrialists held on October 26, 1922, at the headquarters of Il Popolo d’Italia, where business leaders explained “the extremely grave damage to the national economy from the state of anarchic confusion into which the country was sinking” and pleaded for him to come up with an answer.8

It was, however, only with the advent of the regime that the rapport between the business community and Fascism solidified and at the same time assumed the form of a compromise between two power centers. Indeed, as has been rightly observed, it was “a highly improbable notion that a societal unit the size of a nation- state could maintain its social equi-librium for so long without a substantial convergence of interests between its political and economic authorities on issues of social and national importance.”9


To speak of authoritarian compromise, however, does not mean that relations with the Fascist state were completely devoid of tension or dis-agreement, much less does it suggest a symbiotic relationship or integra-tion within the regime. As late as 1929, during a meeting of the Comitato Centrale Intersindacale (Syndicates’ Central Committee), Mussolini com-plained about the political attitudes of the industrialists, grumbling that “all these industrialists are powerful, enterprising, and clever, but with respect to Fascism they are little more than hangers- on (rimorchiati).”10

There were, furthermore, numerous moments of friction, linked above all to important political or economic developments, such as the shift in monetary policy toward the “quota 90,”11 the invasion of Ethiopia, the alli-ance with Germany, and the entrance into the war. All these events created tension because they altered the status quo of the compromise to vary-ing degrees. At the same time, each of these events was accompanied by policies offered by the regime in compensation, to which business lead-ers responded by reaffirming their loyalty to Fascism. The compromise between the regime and the business class thus demonstrated a remarkable degree of durability, and it was only with the reversal of the nation’s for-tunes in wartime between 1942 and 1943 that their relationship plunged definitively into crisis.

Several purely practical considerations ultimately guaranteed the solid-ity and duration of this alliance: among them were not only the immedi-ate economic interests of the business class but also a number of deeper structural changes in the domestic and international economy. In the mid- 1920s, in particular, government regulation gradually replaced the dynam-ics of the free market, leading to closer collaboration between economic interests and the state. Yet the compromise between the business com-munity and Fascism cannot be reduced solely to economic factors. Two additional elements appear equally important: for one, the development of a more complex set of relationships between the state and certain social groups, with the development of a place for the most productive members of society within the state’s institutions; for another, the cultural and ideo-logical affinities that linked these two worlds and helped create common interests and understandings.

Each of these three aspects merits closer examination. First, however, we need to outline the features of the industrial bourgeoisie in the interwar years: the establishment of new hierarchies and the consequent emergence of a genuine elite would decisively influence the orientation of the relation-ship with the Fascist state.


New Hierarchies

The contours and composition of the business world can be easily outlined in general terms. It included the owners of small, medium, and large enter-prises and those managers endowed with substantial decision- making powers, as well as members of the banking and financial communities. Within these broad outlines, however, there was a more complicated inter-nal structure that varied depending on national and historical contexts. The proportions and relationships between the various sectors differed depending on both the role played by the individual sectors and their own internal hierarchies, which in turn varied based on their earnings, avail-able capital, economic power, and political influence. The variation in the composition and vertical organization of the business community natu-rally had a strong influence on the definition of its interests, the policies promoted by its representative bodies, and its relationship with the state and national politics.

The Italian business class witnessed profound changes in its composi-tion and internal hierarchy during the interwar years, due to long- term structural transformations in industry (the long wave of the second industrial revolution), developments in the international economic cycle (like the “deglobalization” of the 1930s), and the policies of the Fascist government. The “quota 90” campaign, in particular, redefined the goals and strategy of economic policy midway through the 1920s and helped produce a turnover in economic leadership. The new policy was scarcely compatible with the requirements of traditional industries with a large need for manual labor or those oriented toward production for foreign markets. The weight of the textile sector in Italian industry declined per-ceptibly, along with that of the metallurgic sector, the other historical component of the old social and productive order. Gradually taking their place were firms that often possessed a near monopoly or oligopoly in sectors created by the second industrial revolution: chemicals, electricity, and automobiles. In the 1930s, as a result of the global economic crisis and the government’s response, the long transformation in Italy’s capi-tal assets finally reached its conclusion, and economic hegemony passed from the country’s traditional axis composed of mixed- credit banking, iron and steel manufacturing, and heavy mechanical industry to a new order based on electricity, chemicals, Fiat, Milanese financial institutions, and the Istituto per la Ricostruzione Industriale (Institute for Industrial Reconstruction, or IRI).12

The uninterrupted process of industrial concentration continued, moreover, to increase big business’s overall share in the domestic econ-omy. This was in part the result of market forces, analogous to what was


occurring in other major economies, but was also due to deliberate politi-cal choices. The process of concentration was openly incentivized and sus-tained by fiscal policy and legislation supporting cartels, as well as by the imposition of required government authorization for the construction of new industrial plants. The gap (in terms of profits and political influence) between the few genuinely large corporations and the mass of small and medium businesses widened, and a small nucleus of the largest private enterprises coalesced to form the backbone of Italian big business for the next four decades.

The boundaries between public and private, in contrast, became ever more evanescent: with the creation of the IRI and the nationalization of several banks and companies, the business community widened to include the managers of major public enterprises. An increasingly restricted industrial- financial “oligarchy” was taking shape, which, “through a com-plex network of profit- sharing mechanisms and exchanges of boardroom seats” began to dictate the rules of government regulation and domi-nate “in an almost totalitarian fashion the Italian industrial economy in both the ‘public’ as well as private sector.”13 An illustrative representa-tion of that oligarchy was offered by one of the major protagonists of the industrial- financial community of those years, Ettore Conti, who noted on September 15, 1939, in his Taccuino di un borghese, “In this era in which the government daily reaffirms its desire to move toward the people, it has created a financial oligarchy which, in the industrial field, recalls an ancient feudalism. Manufacturing is largely controlled by a few select groups, each of which is led by one man. Agnelli, Cini, Volpi, Pirelli, Donegani, Falck, and a select few others completely dominate the various branches of industry.”14 The effect of these changes was to accentuate the dualistic nature of the industrial bourgeoisie: a select elite of a few large “oligarchs,” on the one hand, and a vast mass of small businessmen, on the other. While the latter were loudly celebrated by Fascist propaganda— they represented the manufacturing equivalent of the ruralization policy privi-leging the small peasant proprietor— the power to represent the interests of national capitalism was almost completely in the hands of the former. Beginning midway through the 1920s it was precisely this restricted eco-nomic “oligarchy” that provided concrete support for the authoritarian compromise with Fascism, from which it would draw significant mate-rial benefits, largely to the disadvantage of the widely dispersed galaxy of small business owners.15


The Economic Bases of the Alliance

The formation of an industrial- financial “oligarchy” that concentrated capital and companies, and the nation’s economic power more generally, in the hands of a few seemed to contrast vividly with the antibourgeois cast that Mussolini and the camicie nere wanted to imprint on the Fascist politi-cal project. Attacking the bourgeois elite was one of the constant tenets of Fascist ideology, from its origins all the way until the demise of the Salò Republic, reaching particular stridence in the late 1930s.16 In Fascist dis-course, the bourgeois man represented the perfect antithesis of the “new man” that the regime was striving to create: the former was flaccid, lazy, materialistic, and interested only in his own personal profit, in contrast with the fervent, principled model Fascist, antimaterialistic and endowed with a warrior spirit.17

Fascism’s antibourgeois and, from the 1930s, antiplutocratic rhetoric was primarily vocalized by the Fascist left but was nevertheless widely echoed by many key figures in the dictatorship, beginning with Mussolini himself. His speeches paired this antibourgeois attitude with an emphasis on Italy’s rural roots and a negation of the country’s more modern capital-ist elements. Emblematic in this sense were his concluding remarks at a meeting of the Consiglio Nazionale delle Corporazioni (National Council of Corporations) on November 13, 1933. Mussolini declared that Italy was not in fact a capitalist country— in obvious contrast to the image offered by Conti— because its businessmen “are almost all industrialists that run small or medium sized enterprises.” He concluded, “In my opinion Italy must remain a nation with a mixed economy, with a strong agricultural sector at its base . . . ; a healthy small and mid- sized industrial base, a bank-ing sector that does not speculate, and commercial enterprises that ful-fill their inimitable function, which is to deliver their merchandise to the consumer, quickly and efficiently.”18 Such ruralist, antibourgeois, and anti-plutocratic arguments (which complemented Mussolini’s aversion to large working- class organizations) contradicted the economic policies enacted by the regime, which largely favored big business. Attributing this contra-diction to the mystifications of Fascist ideology, however, or to the constant gap between words and deeds that marked all the regime’s policies, is insuf-ficient; in fact, the contradiction stemmed in large part from the Fascist interpretation of the bourgeois question.

The Fascist interpretation— indebted to nationalism and the intellec-tual avant- garde of the early twentieth century— differentiated between a parasitic bourgeoisie that relied on political connections and a productive bourgeoisie that depended on its own labor. The most notable proponent of this contrast was Giuseppe Prezzolini, whose famous 1904 article on


the “two Italies” described the existence of “an Italy of deeds and an Italy of words; one of action, the other of sleepy idle chatter; one of the factory, the other of the salon; one that creates, the other that takes; one that func-tions, the other that obstructs.” The latter was composed of politicians, the “bourgeoisie of the government,” that constituted “the most false aristoc-racy in existence because it is a useless aristocracy.” There was, however, the other Italy, represented by the other bourgeoisie “that wins prizes at the World Exposition, that fights to conquer foreign markets, that dares to build waterways, create mills, erect factories, and combat the inertia and obstruction of government and the malevolence and hate of the mob and the demagogues.”19

Prezzolini’s distinction permeated Fascist thought from the beginning: “The bourgeoisie still has some technical and moral value left in it,” Mus-solini argued at the second congress of the Fasci in May 1920, and so “we should not sink the bourgeois ship, but rather board it, and expel all the parasites.”20 The privileging of the productive, modern, industrial elements of society constituted the ideological premises of the Fascist approach to the bourgeois question.

But naturally, it was not only these ideological premises and initial pro-ductivist flirtations that drew Fascism closer to the industrial bourgeoisie. A more substantial and concrete basis for an alliance was the recognition of a close connection between the development of industrial might and the pursuit of expansionist and “imperial” objectives: only an industrial power could hope to engage in power politics on the international stage. The First World War had revealed how modern war had become “total” war, or— to borrow the words of Ernst Jünger— a type of “mechanized warfare,” a “war of material” whose outcome was completely dependent on the productive capacity of the competing belligerent states.21

The ability to increase the productive capacity and efficiency of national industry— the requisite basis for a power politics— was nevertheless limited by the structural constraints of the Italian economy, especially its chronic shortage of capital and raw materials. The government, under Mussolini’s direct supervision, worked ceaselessly to overcome these limitations and intervene in meaningful ways to augment the chain of production: with one hand it favored heavy industry, more directly linked to power politics, by incentivizing investment in that sector, while with the other it supported large corporations, sheltering them from competition by encouraging car-telization and limiting market access to new competitors.

Despite these efforts, as many economic historians have amply dem-onstrated, the results of these policies in terms of increased efficiency and productive capacity were largely disappointing in comparison with the stated objectives of the government and the leadership of the Confindustria


(the Italian organization representing manufacturing employers).22 It is certainly true that the level of investment achieved by the policy of autar-chy in particular made modernization programs in several strategic sectors possible. And it is equally true that those programs would subsequently be further developed after the war and, by stimulating technological progress and encouraging the development of new plants, would lay the founda-tions for the later economic miracle.23 In the short term, however, they did not produce any acceleration of technological advancement. Growth in productivity was lower than that recorded during the prewar Giolitti era. The greatest gains in productivity were generated by the elimination of less efficient businesses in the wake of the global crisis, by ongoing processes of concentration, greater exploitation of the workforce, and increases in capital investment.24

The poor results on display during the war— the supreme test so dear to the Fascists— constituted the most eloquent proof imaginable of the shortcomings and overall backwardness of the military- industrial com-plex and its failure to achieve technological progress.25 It was thus not the actual results in terms of growth and development that, at least in the short term, cemented the alliance between Fascism and the Italian business class. From the perspective of business interests, it was a case “more of the clever exploitation of a fluid situation rather than a proposal— much less the realization— of a strategy for the revival and development of the Italian capitalist system.”26

One rather significant consequence, however, was a reduction in the reliance of Italian enterprise on a competitive free market and a growth in the importance of the state’s influence. Wage cuts in the industrial sector limited domestic private consumption, while the international economic crisis and widespread adoption of protectionist policies led to a consistent decline in exports. This overall state of affairs was cushioned somewhat by the many interventionist provisions undertaken by the government and by a visible growth in public demand. At the height of the crisis and then increasingly during the following period of autarchy and war, public insti-tutions and big business were gradually entwined through a series of tariff barriers, regulations of foreign commerce, exchange rate controls, support for cartels and conglomeration, bailouts, nationalizations, government procurements, and public financing for autarchic programs. The conver-gence and coexistence of a “business state” and a “collusive capitalism” was slowly taking shape.

The crisis of the early 1930s made big business’s turn to the govern-ment and state institutions all the more inevitable. The observations of Paul Corner regarding the relationship between workers and the Fascist syndicates also seem fitting with respect to the situation facing the business


world: “Crisis compelled conformity. In this respect, it may be no accident that the ‘years of consensus’ coincide so precisely with the years of severe economic hardship.”27

Those who profited the most from this situation were above all the members of the industrial and financial oligarchy, who were for the most part active in the most strategic— and thus most protected— sectors of the economy. Those who paid the highest price, in contrast, were small busi-ness owners in those sectors traditionally dependent on exports, who bore the brunt of the effects of the changes in tariff and monetary policy.

Entry into the State

The growth of state intervention coincided with a “trend, on the part of big business, to turn constantly to government mediation in the search for larger market share and the resolution of conflicts of interest.”28 As one scholar has noted regarding this wartime alliance— though the observa-tion is equally valid for the years preceding— the business state and the growing “collusion” of private enterprise and the state contributed to strengthening “the pact of power between the regime and economic inter-ests”: the former acquired “a discretionary power” that in turn allowed the latter groups “to make moves according to their own political weight.” At the same time, the alliances and conflicts between economic groups ended up “being reflected, directly or indirectly, in the internal power dynamics within the regime.”29

The tightening of the bonds between the regime and the industrial bourgeoisie, in other words, drew the internal tensions and conflicts of the latter ever further into the sphere of the former. This process was not simply the result of an imposition from above, willed by Mussolini, to herd individuals hesitant to commit fully to the Fascist cause into a readily controllable state apparatus. It was, in fact, also the result of more general changes across industrialized Europe in the relationship between the state and social groups, which in Italy took on a uniquely authori-tarian shape. Generally speaking, these changes consisted of the state’s search for greater control over the levers of economy and society, on the one hand, and the corresponding participation of certain social groups in the process of political decision making and administrative policy on the other.30

One key outcome was the assumption of a public role by part of the business world and, even before that, the growth of its influence within the ruling class. Indeed, the composition of parliament— setting aside for a moment the evisceration of the constitution imposed by the Fascist


dictatorship— witnessed a growth in the presence of the industrial bour-geoisie.31 The reform of political representation enacted in 1928, which dissolved the traditional electoral system in favor of the plebiscite, assigned to the legally recognized Fascist syndicates (of both labor and business) the right to propose their own parliamentary candidates.

Even more significant, and with undoubtedly more visible effects, was the presence of the industrialists within the government itself. Already dur-ing the First World War “the sclerotic culture of public administration” had been infiltrated by “outside contributors from the world of the economy and large industry.”32 With the arrival of Fascism they rose within the ranks of the state to the highest levels. The admission of business and finance representatives or members of the Confindustria into the economic minis-tries represented a genuine novelty. At least four ministers came from the world of big business or business associations: the industrialists and finan-ciers Giuseppe Volpi (finance minister from July 1925 until July 1928) and Antonio Stefano Benni (communications minister from July 1925 until October 1939), the commercial entrepreneur Guido Jung (finance minister from July 1932 until January 1935), and the general manager of the Confin-dustria and Associazione fra le Società per Azioni (Assonime, the Association of Italian Joint- Stock Companies), Felice Guarneri (superintendent, later undersecretary, and finally foreign exchange minister from May 1935 until October 1939). For all these men, their cabinet appointments lasted several years and were marked by several prominent decisions and achievements: Volpi managed the complicated politics of the so- called quota 90, and Jung took part in several bailout operations as well as the creation of the Istituto per la Ricostruzione Industriale, while Guarneri managed foreign economic policy during the autarchy years.

Numerous financial and economic bodies together constituted another channel through which a considerable number of elites from the private sector entered the public sphere.33 This was not a function solely of the prominence of individual figures, as important or representative as many were. Rather, it was a much wider phenomenon including the collective representation of entire business categories, such as the Confindustria or the confederations of other sectors (agriculture, banking, trade, transpor-tation, and services), which began as private associations for the manage-ment of sectarian interests but which often became a type of quasi- public organization with an official institutional role. In the new labor relations system established by Alfredo Rocco (through the law of April 3, 1926), the organization of such interest groups acquired formal state recognition and a de facto monopoly over representation in negotiations. Later reforms to their statutes, promoted by the government in 1934, only accentuated their public nature.


Despite their loss of legislative authority, however, the entrepreneurial sector— in contrast to the labor unions— retained broad powers to name and control the leadership bodies at the heads of their organizations and could be assured of their complete independence.34 The Confindustria managed to preserve its own ability to represent and protect the interests of the industrialists. The only real concession it made lay in the politicization of its organization. From the beginning of the 1930s, and in particular after the ascension of Volpi to its presidency, the Confindustria indeed assumed responsibility for guiding the fascistization of the business world, making its organization yet another transmission belt for the maintenance of con-sent for the regime and its policies.

The influence of the business class was further strengthened with the inclusion of its own representatives in the apparatus charged with devel-oping and managing several instruments of economic policy, such as the procedure for the authorization of new industrial construction or the expansion of established factories, the creation of voluntary and obliga-tory consorzi (consortia), mandatory contributions to government stock-piles, and the establishment of commissions for the distribution of import licenses.

It is thus easily comprehensible how, for business leaders, the initial defense of their own prerogatives and autonomy and the sense of threat emanating from every attempt at state intervention gradually gave way, especially in the destabilizing and uncertain context of the global crisis, to a much greater willingness to accept or “contract” with the regime to provide dirigiste solutions to Italy’s economic problems— that is, to see government intervention not solely as a threatening intrusion into their own sphere of influence but also as an opportunity whose potential they would actively collaborate to realize.

In this respect, a significant role was played by the corporatist system, formed by the Consiglio Nazionale delle Corporazioni, the 22 corporations, and the provincial councils of the corporativist economy. While corporat-ist institutions ultimately failed to become a consistent and viable instru-ment for public intervention in the economy, much less the foundation of a new political and economic model— the much- discussed “third way” between capitalism and communism— they did constitute an alternative site for mediation. In this institutional network, the triangular system of mediation between the industrial interests of the state, business organi-zations, and trade unions (which was of course highly asymmetric and worked to the disadvantage of the workers) aimed to maintain control over the workforce and influence the development and orientation of economic policy. Business organizations were thus part of a much broader mecha-nism. In many cases, the most high- profile figures among the industrial


and financial elite personally assumed responsibility for representing the interests of their sector. A quick glance at the composition of the 22 cor-porations themselves provides an illuminating list of many of the most important figures in the Italian economic “oligarchy.” The following list cites but a few of the most famous names: Gino Olivetti, Franco Marinotti, and Senatore Borletti, in the Corporazione dei Prodotti Tessili (textiles); Vincenzo Ardissone, Arturo Bocciardo, Luigi Orlando, Agostino Rocca, and Giuseppe Mazzini, Corporazione della Metallurgia e della Meccanica (iron and steel manufacturers); Francesco Giordani, Guido Donegani, and Achille Gaggia, Corporazione della Chimica (chemicals); Giacinto Motta and Giuseppe Cenzato, Corporazione dell’Acqua, Gas, ed Elettricità (water, gas, and electricity); Vincenzo Azzolini, Alberto Benaduce, Alberto Pirelli, and Arturo Osio, Corporazione della Previdenza e del Credito (credit and insurance).35

It is important to note, however, that the industrialists’ public role was reserved primarily for representatives of large industry. Small business-men, in fact, remained largely excluded from the various representative bodies or decision- making processes. The business associations themselves reflected this dichotomy. The national associations, and especially the con-federations, were in fact in the hands of big business interests even more than before, while the vast majority of smaller enterprises were scarcely represented at all. The imbalance in this system was most evident in rela-tions with the state apparatus charged with the development of economic policy and the distribution of vital state resources, as small business inter-ests complained on several occasions.36

The assumption of a public role by the industrial class thus ultimately resulted in the privileging and protection of the interests of a limited seg-ment of the business world. At the same time, however, it represented an undisputable change in the relationship between the state and a collective social group, because it eroded the boundaries between state institutions (the public) and important economic actors (the private), consolidating the “authoritarian compromise.”

Affinities and Identities

For the Confindustria and many members of the business community, participation in public institutions also meant appropriating the words, phrases, and arguments of Fascism itself. An examination of many of the industrial organization’s documents, even those not intended for public circulation, reveals frequent criticisms of “antiquated traditional schemes” that ended up “indulging the return of outdated utilitarian theories that


are the perfect antithesis of the ethical and political principles of Fascist doctrine”; attacks on “the absurd idea of understanding the economic facts of the Fascist era through the laws of the liberal economy”;37 invocations of the superior needs of the nation, of the corporativist state, of the Carta del Lavoro (Labor Charter), of the “discipline of production”; proclama-tions arguing how the consorzi, state authorization for factory construc-tion, import commissions, autarchic plans, and government intervention through economic and financial bodies were “the best means to rein in a form of competition that, in many cases, carried beyond its natural lim-its, had manifested itself as an element of discord and dispersion of the nation’s productive forces.”38

To be sure, these were politically expedient positions, aimed at support-ing specific group interests. Such language was generally perceived to be necessary, based on a rhetorical strategy that emphasized borrowing the ideas and logic of their interlocutors in order to justify their own argu-ments. This was a rhetorical strategy Italian industrialists used quite fre-quently. The pervasive presence of the Fascist state forced them to adopt its own formulas and messages to legitimate and strengthen their own posi-tions of interest.

With the autarchic turn of the mid- 1930s, the ideological indoctrina-tion of the industrialists was complete. The same rhetorical strategy was thus used, for example, by Donegani and the men in charge of Monte-catini, who systematically presented their business as working directly in the interests of national economic independence;39 by chemicals manu-facturers when, to strengthen their own sector, they restated their convic-tion that the chemical industry not only “is the most effective weapon to oppose the selfish monopolistic regime of certain rich nations . . . it is also a necessary and irreplaceable appliance of the nation’s industrial establish-ment for the creation of essential elements for national defense”;40 by the leadership group of IRI, when in 1937 it promoted the reorganization and transformation of the institute into a permanent body in order to make it an instrument “to compete for the development of Ethiopia and the policy of autarchy”;41 and by Agostino Rocca and the managers of the state- run metallurgic industries, when defending their plan for the reorganization of the sector, highlighting its close connections with “national economic independence.”

Like a great many other cases, these were comments made out of con-scious self- interest. For the most part, however, they also express their authors’ ideological convictions and underlying cultural orientations. The few private remarks that the most prominent members of the industrial middle class have left behind— in notebooks, diaries, and letters— allow us to peer into a culture (not only economic) far removed from liberal


and free- market orthodoxy and to discover a mix of convictions, values, and sentiments that were largely consonant with Fascism. As the sun set on old traditions and cultural ties, accentuated by the storms of the 1920s and 1930s— and here the context of widespread belief in the irrevers-ible crisis of the free market played a decisive role— the cultural horizons of the industrialists and those of Fascism were drawn together, creating points of contact that proved to be more than merely superficial or cir-cumstantial.42 Indeed, the most important and visible figures of the indus-trial bourgeoisie— while retaining their independence of judgment— did not hide their open admiration for the “virtues” of a strong state that was capable of ending class conflict, reestablishing hierarchies threatened by working- class struggles, and ultimately creating an organically unified nation. “The corporativist idea,” Pirelli argued in 1934, “has its virtues and the potential for expansion, because in every country the atomistic concep-tion of society that began with the individualism of the Encyclopedia and the French Revolution has ended its historic phase, leaving space for the organic conception of society formed by professional groups and catego-ries; because the awareness of the strong state is growing ever more wide-spread, for it is truly sovereign, omnipresent, and has a life, interests, and needs of its own, that transcend those of isolated individuals or groups.”43 All this translated, in practical terms, into the denial of workers’ right to associate and unionize, the abolition of the right to strike, the imposition of the Fascist organizations as labor’s sole representative, the removal of restrictions on owners’ uncontested control over business, rigid labor mar-ket controls, and cuts in wages. At the same time, however, it echoed pre-existing themes and ideological threads, many of which had deep roots in the mental worldview of business leaders: from the corporatist tradition going back to the industrial paternalism of Alessandro Rossi, to the indus-trial and technocratic culture personified by Francesco Saverio Nitti, to the protectionism that in Liberal Italy had constituted not only the nucleus of a political economic program but also a point of agreement for many sectors of the urban and rural bourgeoisie.44

Nationalism represented a second point of convergence between Fas-cism and the industrial bourgeoisie. In the eyes of many, Fascism appeared to act in the service of a higher interest— namely, that of bolstering Italy’s position on the international stage. The myth of “national strength” and colonial possession had already been rooted in Italian middle- class culture since before the turn of the century. Even if they did not fully share this vision, three generations of Italians had experienced firsthand the nation’s self- representation of a strong Italy, destined for global leadership.45 The victorious conclusion of the First World War had apparently proved this thesis, while the results of the peace conference suggested an enduring


hostility from the rest of Europe. The bourgeoisie played an undeniable role in the formulation of such representations. And the industrialists, as the most dynamic stars in the wider constellation of the bourgeoisie, were among those most prominently involved in this project. This was in part because, on the most basic economic level, the “myth of strength” appeared to represent a solution— with its voluntarist and vitalist overtones— for Italy’s historical weakness in international economic relations, due espe-cially to its strategic dependence on foreign suppliers for its raw materials.46

Indeed, an attentive examination of the individual trajectories of many members of the industrial and financial “oligarchy”— at least in those instances where the available archival sources or published historical works provide some documentary foundation— reveals several common traits, among them a prointerventionist background, sympathies for the 1919 Fiume expedition, and shared nationalist ideas and values. Such was the case, for example, of Raffaele Mattioli, who as late as 1934 recalled with pride his role in the poet D’Annunzio’s Fiume adventure, an adventure that counted among its main organizers Oscar Sinigaglia, for several years the point man for the public metallurgic industry.47

This shared nationalism was a major source of the individual and collec-tive support of many businessmen and the Confindustria for the regime’s foreign policy. Although in this area the industrialists more often reacted to Fascist initiatives, rather than openly offer their own positions, they nev-ertheless offered a significant degree of approval and support.48 Even the most controversial decisions were accompanied by a general mobilization within the business establishment, as occurred for instance during the cre-ation of the Axis with Germany, sealed with countless exchanges of visits between Italian and German business organizations.49

Finally, there was a third element of cultural affinity, one that might be summarized as the emergence of voluntarist sentiments and the glorifica-tion of the figure of the “leader.” This tendency toward the personalization of political power helped create a model of economic leadership that mir-rored its political counterpart; economic power thus stylized itself not as the province of an entire social class but as the theater of a select few great personalities. For many of these protagonists this model nurtured their own self- image, which emphasized their individual character and ability to lead, evoking an image of their leadership as a mission and a “militancy.” In this case as well, the countless documentary sources speak clearly. In a letter dated 1919 Giacinto Motta, the head of Edison (the primary Italian electric company and largest joint- stock company in the country), wrote that the chairman of a large enterprise must “find . . . everything he needs within himself; his gift is that of foresight; his job is to take the initia-tive . . . ; his field of action is the entire range of social activities; all of it,


including today, tomorrow, and the years to come.” A business needed a man who was “wedded to his society . . . ; but he must also be some-one who will dedicate his activities completely and of his own free will to the life and robust good health of the company.” Such a manager must also lead his workers in a strong and authoritative manner, because an employee “needs to feel that his leader is guiding him.”50 Many industrial-ists of the period assigned themselves similar traits. Gerolamo Gaslini, not a very well- known figure but a leader in the vegetable oils industry and head of a private enterprise in Genoa, provided an even more unequivocal statement: “I am a reactionary, and too many committees have for me the smell of a democratic political rally. With all the hordes of people (reg-gimenti) in this world, if I were in charge (in mia podestà), I would elect an autocrat and, if I had to choose, with all due modesty, I would choose none other than . . . your humble correspondent himself.”51 Further evi-dence can be found in the passion that many suddenly discovered for a managerial theory based on principles of hierarchy and command. Begin-ning in 1934– 35, and again in 1938, Alberto Pirelli offered a course at the Milan Politecnico (the country’s leading technical university) dedicated to the idea of the “leader,” in which the exaltation of personal leadership in the managerial realm reigned supreme.52

This self- image found sustenance and affirmation in the authoritar-ian business model that was officially sanctioned by the Palazzo Vidoni Pact of October 1925 and the labor relations legislation written by Rocco in April 1926. This new model emphasized a rigid hierarchy within the company and a complete expulsion of the labor unions, in direct contrast to the consiliarismo (council movement) and participatory initiatives of the biennio rosso.

Emphasizing their own heroism and fitness to command over formal technical or financial expertise and expressing their desire to innovate and forecast developing trends in the marketplace, business leaders thus subtly emphasized their affinity and kinship with the head of the government. Inevitably, such self- identification as the “duce of the factory” stimulated parallels with the Duce of all of Italy. “The image of political leadership that Mussolini crafted and nourished with obvious care and insight could not help but be attractive to the entrepreneur,” one scholar has written of Gaslini (though this judgment is equally valid for many others). “Despite their difference in roles, he modeled himself in Mussolini’s image, and found comfort and reassurance of the righteousness of his own actions in the very values that the Duce proclaimed as his own, and legitimated in the eyes of all Italians.” More concretely, many entrepreneurs displayed a mentality and self- image that reflected a business ethic “with the auto-cratic figure of the leader at the center, a single leader, then, endowed with


absolute power justified in the name of his own singular abilities but, as a consequence, forced to assume complete responsibility for all fundamental duties.”53

It was this complex and elusive nexus of affinities and identities that formed one of the strongest pillars of the support given by the industrial bourgeoisie to Fascism. The compromise between these two powers turned out to be stable and durable, capable of surviving even Italy’s tempestuous entrance into the war. The definitive break between the two parties came only after the sudden reversal of fortunes in the conflict between 1942 and 1943, even though the context of war had reshaped the nature of their alli-ance from its outset.54 With the outbreak of the global conflict many in the business community, while safeguarding their compromise with Fas-cism, gradually rediscovered their own autonomy, putting a different spin on their relationship with political authority and the state apparatus. Their reinterpretation of their role marked the beginning of a new phase in the history of the Italian entrepreneurial class, and indeed helped shape the way in which economic leaders would interpret their social function in postwar democratic Italy.

Notes

1. See Yon Woo Kim, “From ‘Consensus Studies’ to History of Subjectivity: Some Considerations on Recent Historiography on Italian Fascism,” Totalitar-ian Movements and Political Religions 10, no. 3– 4 (2009): 327– 37; and David D. Roberts, “Myth, Style, Substance and the Totalitarian Dynamic in Fascist Italy,” Contemporary European History 16, no. 1 (2007): 1– 36.

2. Renzo De Felice, Mussolini il Duce: Gli anni del consenso 1929– 1936 (1974; repr., Turin: Einaudi, 1974). For some considerations of De Felice’s work, see Pietro Scoppola, “Fascismo e borghesia nell’opera di Renzo De Felice,” Con-temporanea 1, no. 3 (1998): esp. 609– 10.

3. R. J. B. Bosworth, The Italian Dictatorship: Problems and Perspectives in the Interpretation of Mussolini and Fascism (New York: Arnold, 1998), 228– 29.

4. I use the term “authoritarian compromise” in the sense defined by Massimo Legnani, “Sistema di potere fascista, blocco dominante, alleanze sociali: Con-tributo a una discussione,” in L’Italia dal fascismo alla repubblica: Sistema di potere e alleanze sociali, ed. Luca Baldissara, Stefano Battilossi, and Paolo Ferrari (Rome: Carocci, 2000), 27– 55.

5. See Giovanni Sabbatucci, “La crisi dello Stato liberale,” in Storia d’Italia, ed. Giovanni Sabbatucci and Vittorio Vidotto, vol. 4, Guerre e fascismo: 1914– 1943 (Rome: Laterza, 1997), 123.

6. Franklin Hugh Adler, Italian Industrialists from Liberalism to Fascism: The Political Development of the Industrial Bourgeoisie 1906– 1934 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995).


7. This emerges clearly, for example, in the discussions within the Unione Indus-triale di Torino (Turin Industrialists’ Union). See Giuseppe Berta, Il governo degli interessi: Industriali, rappresentanza e politica nell’Italia del nord- ovest 1906– 1924 (Venice: Marsilio, 1996), esp. 156– 61.

8. Archivio Centrale dello Stato (ACS), Segreteria Particolare del Duce (SPD), co, f. 509.712, Speech by Alberto Pirelli before the National Assembly of the Association of Joint Stock Companies, November 28, 1932.

9. Rolf Petri, “I ceti economici dirigenti tra consenso e crisi di regime,” in Sulla crisi del regime fascista 1938– 1943: La società italiana dal consenso alla Resistenza: Atti del Convegno nazionale di studi, Padova, 4– 6 novembre 1993, ed. Angelo Ventura (Venice: Marsilio, 1996), 230.

10. ACS, Carte Cianetti, b. 5, f. 64, Partito nazionale fascista, Direttorio nazio-nale, Comitato centrale intersindacale, Meeting at the Viminale Palace, July 6, 1929-VII.

11. Controversial revaluation of the lira announced by Mussolini in August 1926, which pegged the Italian currency to an exchange rate of 92 lira against the pound sterling— the same rate it had possessed when Fascism took power in 1922.

12. Paride Rugafiori, Imprenditori e manager nella storia d’Italia (Rome: Laterza, 1999), 64.

13. Stefano Battilossi, “Gli industriali italiani verso il ‘Nuovo Ordine europeo,’” in L’Italia in guerra 1940– 1943, ed. Bruna Micheletti and Pier Paolo Poggio (Brescia: Annali della Fondazione “Luigi Micheletti,” 1990– 91), 368.

14. Ettore Conti, Dal taccuino di un borghese (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1986), 432. 15. Andrea Colli, I volti di Proteo: Storia della piccola impresa in Italia nel Novecento

(Turin: Bollati Boringhieri, 2001), 51– 52. 16. De Felice, Mussolini il Duce: Lo Stato totalitario 1936– 1940 (Turin: Einaudi,

1981), 93– 100. 17. See Emilio Gentile, “L’ ‘uomo nuovo’ del fascismo: Riflessioni su un esperi-

mento totalitario di rivoluzione antropologa,” in Fascismo: Storia e interpre-tazione (Rome: Laterza, 2002), 235– 64.

18. Benito Mussolini, “Discorso per lo Stato corporativo (14 novembre 1933),” in Opera Omnia, ed. Duilio Susmel and Edoardo Susmel, vol. 26, Dal patto a Quattro all’inaugurazione della provincia di Littoria (8 giugno 1933– 18 dicem-bre 1934) (Florence: La Fenice, 1958), 92.

19. Giuseppe Prezzolini, “Le due Italie (1904),” Il Regno, May 22, 1904. 20. See, for example, Mussolini, “Discorso inaugurale al secondo congresso dei

Fasci (24 maggio 1920),” in Opera Omnia, ed. Susmel and Susmel, vol. 14, Dalla marcia di Ronchi al secondo congresso dei Fasci (14 settembre 1919– 25 maggio 1920) (Florence: La Fenice, 1964), 469.

21. Ernst Jünger, Storm of Steel (New York: Penguin Classics, 2004), 69. 22. Jon S. Cohen, “Was Italian Fascism a Developmental Dictatorship? Some Evi-

dence to the Contrary,” The Economic History Review 41, no. 1 (1988): 95– 113. 23. See Petri, Storia economica d’Italia: Dalla grande guerra al miracolo economico

(1918– 1963) (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2002).


24. Pierluigi Ciocca, Ricchi per sempre? Una storia economica d’Italia (1796– 2005) (Turin: Bollati Boringhieri, 2007), 212. See also Nicola Rossi and Gianni Toni-olo, “Un secolo di sviluppo economico,” in Il progresso economico dell’Italia: Permanenze, discontinuità, limiti, ed. Ciocca (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1994), 15– 46.

25. See Vera Zamagni, ed., Come perdere la guerra e vincere la pace: L’economia italiana tra guerra e dopoguerra 1938– 1947 (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1997).

26. Gianni Toniolo, L’economia dell’Italia fascista (Rome: Laterza, 1980), xiv. 27. Paul Corner, “Italian Fascism: Whatever Happened to Dictatorship?,” The

Journal of Modern History 74, no. 2 (June 2002): 339. 28. Battilossi, Gli industriali italiani, 390– 91. 29. Ibid., 387. 30. The classic reference here is Charles S. Maier, Recasting Bourgeois Europe: Sta-

bilization in France, Germany and Italy in the Decade after World War I (Princ-eton: Princeton University Press, 1975).

31. Didier Musiedlak, Lo stato fascista e la sua classe politica: 1922– 1943 (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2003), 148 and 151.

32. Guido Melis, Due modelli di amministrazione tra liberalismo e fascismo: Buro-crazie tradizionali e nuovi apparati (Rome: Ministero per i beni culturali e ambientali, 1988), 18.

33. Melis, Storia dell’amministrazione italiana, 1861– 1993 (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1996), 368.

34. Gian Carlo Jocteau, “Gino Olivetti: La Confindustria e il corporativismo. Il ruolo dell’ideologia nel sindicalismo padronale italiano,” Annali di storia dell’impresa 8 (1992): 367.

35. For a more thorough evaluation, see Alessio Gagliardi, Il corporativismo fas-cista (Rome: Laterza, 2010).

36. See, for instance, the letter addressed to Mussolini by “a group of small and mid- sized industries” in the summer of 1938: ACS, SPD, Co, f. 500.005/I, Let-ter to Mussolini, 8 July 1938.

37. Archivio Storico Confindustria (AConf), Fondo Giovanni Balella, b. 89, f. 1, Regulation of new industrial plant in the corporatist order, undated (1938).

38. AConf, Fondo Balella, b. 90, f. 1, Summary of arguments regarding regulation of the consorzi, undated.

39. Archivio Montedison, Montecatini, Shareholders’ Meeting, Report to the Board of Directors, March 31, 1939.

40. AConf, Fondo Balella, b. 96, f. 2, Corporation for Chemicals, General consid-erations and summary of autarchic plans for productivity, 1937.

41. ACS, Archivio IRI, Serie near, b. 24, The IRI— its status and potential to become a permanent instrument to contribute to the development of Ethio-pia and the policy of economic autarchy, May 6, 1937.

42. See, also in regard to the paragraphs that follow, Silvio Lanaro, Nazione e lavoro: Saggio sulla cultura borghese in Italia, 1870– 1925 (Venice: Marsilio, 1979); Pier Giorgio Zunino, La Repubblica e il suo passato. Il fascismo dopo il fascismo, il comunismo, la democrazia: Le origini dell’Italia contemporanea


(Bologna: Il Mulino, 2003), 41– 76; and Alberto Mario Banti, Storia della bor-ghesia italiana: L’età liberale (Rome: Donzelli, 1996).

43. ACS, SPD, Co, f. 512.518, Speech by Alberto Pirelli given in Naples, May 23, 1934.

44. Lanaro, Nazione e lavoro; Antonio Cardini, Le corporazioni continuano . . . Cul-tura economica e intervento pubblico nell’Italia unita (Milan: Franco Angeli, 1993).

45. Mario Isnenghi, “Il mito di potenza,” in Il regime fascista: Storia e storiografia, ed. Angelo Del Boca, Massimo Legnani, and Mario G. Rossi (Rome: Laterza, 1995), 140– 41, 147– 48. See also Emilio Gentile, La Grande Italia: The Myth of the Nation in the Twentieth Century, trans. Suzanne Dingee and Jennifer Pud-ney (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2009).

46. Petri, “I ceti economici dirigenti.” 47. Archivio Storico Banca Intesa, Banca Commerciale Italiana, Fondo Raffaele

Mattioli, Copialettere Mattioli, n. 7, Raffaele Mattioli to Gabriele D’Annunzio, June 12, 1934; Carlo Spagnolo, Tecnici e politici in Italia: Riflessioni sulla storia dello Stato imprenditore dagli anni trenta agli anni cinquanta (Milan: Franco Angeli, 1992), 83.

48. Roland Sarti, Fascism and Industrial Leadership in Italy 1919– 1940: A Study of the Expansion of Private Power under Fascism (Berkeley: University of Califor-nia Press, 1971), 125.

49. Minutes and materials relating to some of these missions may be found in ACS, Presidenza del Consiglio dei Ministri (PCM), 1937– 39, f. 3.2.4.5120, f. 3.2.4.3933, f. 3.2.4.5169, f. 3.2.4.5300, and f. 3.2.4.5243.

50. Giacinto Motta to Angelo Barbagelata, March 24, 1919; cited in L. Segreto, Giacinto Motta: Un ingegnere alla testa del capitalismo italiano (Rome: Laterza, 2004), 170.

51. Gerolamo Gaslini to Edoardo Maragliano, March 24, 1925; cited in Rugafiori, Rockefeller d’Italia: Gerolamo Gaslini imprenditore e filantropo (Rome: Don-zelli, 2009), 75.

52. Alberto Pirelli, Teorica della direzione: Lezioni tenute a Milano presso il Regio Istituto superiore d’Ingegneria al Corso per dirigente attraverso l’economia (Rome: Terme, 1936). See also Nicola Tranfaglia, Vita di Alberto Pirelli (1882– 1971): La politica attraverso l’economia (Turin: Einaudi, 2010), 225– 27.

53. Rugafiori, Rockefeller d’Italia, 75. 54. Suggestive remarks in this context may be found in Pirelli, Taccuini: 1922–

1943 (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1984).

The Entrepreneurial Bourgeoisie and Fascism

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