Was Mussolini really that bad?

Griante, on the western shore of Lake Como

Mussolini participated in one of the darkest chapters of the twentieth century. Is that it? As a tour guide, I seek a deeper understanding that one-line summaries, so went looking for Mussolini and his Italy, on the shores of Lake Como, where he met his end. (Part one here)

Back then, Italy was a newly minted country with no sense of unity or identity, and a barely functional economy. Regions didn't trade, cooperate, or even speak the same language, and there was no one around who seemed able to make much progress. Picture morning delivery traffic in Venice’s canals, truck parking in the warrens of Rome, or crossing the street in the gladiatorial arena that is Naples. All shouting mouths and no ears, not a lot of progress going on. One of the things I’ve learned about the world is that some places need a strongman to get anything done. (The phenomenon of democratically-elected pseudo-dictators in Latin America is no surprise.)

Mussolini began under legal constitutional law, made Prime Minister by the king when everyone else was frozen into inaction. They feared his movement (which had taken over the Po River Valley) and thought he’d be content with a minor position, where he could be controlled and manipulated. By the time they realized their mistake, he’d outlawed or murdered most of the opposition. Then he got to work.

Looking at rampant unemployment in places like Venice, he created industrial zones and jobs. (That this industry greatly accelerated the sinking of Venice was unforeseen.) Realizing a nation that can’t talk amongst itself can’t function very well, he imposed a standardized Italian language, and nowadays most Italians can understand each other. WWI hit Italy extra hard, despite its peripheral position, because it was an underdeveloped nation; Mussolini developed it. He built roads and rail lines, creating jobs for a desperate populace and paving the way (yes, pun intended) for Italy’s current role as an important transportation corridor for the EU.

The streets of Varenna, on the east
shore of Lake Como

A chugging diesel piece of that transportation equipment came around the bend in Mezzegra, above the sparkle of Lake Como, and forced me to step back into a bland little parking lot. When it had passed, I looked across the unremarkable street and saw the unassuming wooden cross that marks where Mussolini and his mistress, Clara Petacci, were executed after being caught trying to sneak into Switzerland. It’s basically a driveway. Fancy house, gorgeous area, but still, a driveway.

Italian politics are murky these days, when refugees and immigration are putting a strain on a continent already pushed, and this country already stretched thin. In these times it’s easy for the less courageous, less compassionate sides of ourselves to say “This is ‘Their’ problem. ‘They’ are different. ‘We’ need a strong leader to resist ‘Them.’” So it’s not entirely surprising that the more racist elements of the Italian political establishment have begun invoking Mussolini.

A cemetery near where Mussolini died. Townspeople
memorialized with much more care and remembrance
than the fascist dictator.

He got stuff done and guided the nation during a time of crisis. He was also a murdering thug, from boyhood when he stabbed classmates and girlfriends, to adulthood, when he ordered the murder of an untold number. It’s tempting to call for a leader to make things go away, and let their soul pay the price, but to do so would be a grave injustice to our own humanity, and a surefire way to create a monster.

Not the sort of thing that can be solved with a simple....Mi scusi.

(And now the painful part. I somehow deleted a large chunk of photos from that part of the trip, including the walk up to Mussolini's marker. It's the sort of thing that drives a photographer, a writer, a blogger, and a tour guide insane, so I'm fourfold pissed about it, and I can't show you the photos I carefully composed of the marker, but trust me, it's not much. A waist-high wooden cross tacked to a garden wall with a little info sign and one photo each of Mussolini and Clara Petacci. The graves in a nearby cemetery for townspeople were much more loving attended to. That makes sense to me.)