SALVATORE DI MARIA, Towards a Unified Italy. Cultural, and Literary Perspectives on the Southern Question ("Preface")

This book is not entirely about the history of Italy. It is about the historical, cultural, and literary context that for over a century has informed and inflamed the debate on the Question of the South or Questione del Mezzogiorno. For over a century, the issue has pitted Northerners against Southerners or, disparagingly, polentoni vs terroni. The book begins by discussing the 1860’s annexation of the South by the North, dwells on the major socio-economic issues that through the years have polarized the country, and concludes with the auspicious outlook that the gap between the two sides is beginning to close.
In sum, the country is about to achieve its much-coveted goal of uniting the Italians or, as it has been famously stated, ‘make the Italians.’ The analysis draws mainly on historical events, on their fictional representation both in cinema and literature, and on past and current newspaper reports. The reader will not fail to notice that, though I grew up in Sicily and am still a Sicilian to the core, I have done my best to maintain an open mind and follow the facts to whatever conclusion they lead. I was just over eighteen when I came with my entire family to the United States in the early 1960s. The reader should also know that I have dedicated most of my professional career to the literature of the Italian Renaissance and that modern Italy is a fairly new field of study for me. I was drawn to the controversy on the Question of the South only a few years ago and by chance. As a diehard Sicilian, I could not resist the invitation to participate in an international conference on the Questione based on the recent and very popular book I terroni (2010) by the Southern journalist Pino Aprile. The book stirred old memories, taking me back to the days of my youth when the Communist party led peasant demonstrations in support of the land reforms being debated in Rome. Waving red banners and sporting red scarfs—the colors of the Italian Communist party, men and women on horseback and mule carts staged symbolic land occupations. They were demanding the partition and distribution of the big estates or feudi owned mostly by absent, rich landowners. It was the time when there was a clear socio-economic distinction between peasantry and bourgeoisie, commonly expressed as the binary opposition birritti vs cappeddi. These attributes were derived from their distinctive headgear: the peasants normally wore the birritti, or caps with a short visor similar to English flat caps; the upper classes preferred the cappeddi, a wide-brimmed or fedora-type hat. It was also the time when we saw friends and relatives emigrate toward mythical America or some European countries that were rebuilding their cities and economies devastated by the savagery of WWII. 

We knew that in Northern Italy the newly arrived emigrants from the South were referred to as terroni (roughly, boorish peasants), but we did not know the full extent of the odious abuse and prejudice associated with this label. We soon began to hear stories of landlords refusing to rent apartments to Southern emigrants, restaurants denying them service, and locals telling them to go back home. Such a rabid racism was revealed in all its nakedness toward the end of the 20th century with the birth of the Northern League, orLega Nord, an ultra-conservative political party that sprung up in the northern regions of the country. Party leaders started to give voice to a long-brewing resentment against the South, calling it a ball and chain to the country’s economy. Some even agitated for secession from Italy. For them, the State’s effort to help develop the southern economy has been a waste of precious resources because the problem, they insisted, is endemic to the region’s culture and its people. Reviving a prejudice first promoted by positivist anthropologists around the end of the 19th century, they argued that Southerners are by nature lazy and prone to violence. Such a virulent attack led a number of Southern writers, most notably Pino Aprile and Antonio Ciano, to respond with a series of books with titles such as the Massacre of the South, the Blood of the South, the Conquest of the South, and similar other works and weblogs. They attributed the South’s underdevelopment to the North’s 1860 ‘forced’ annexation of the region, which completed the creation of the Kingdom of Italy under King Victor Emanuel II. They charged that at the time of the annexation or unification, the North stole huge amounts of money from southern banks. In addition, it raided the private funds of Francesco II, the deposed Bourbon king of the southern Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. They also denounced the new kingdom’s onerous fiscal policies and its general neglect toward the newly conquered territory.  In a few words, they blamed the North for having first conquered the South, taken its riches, and abandoned it to a future of misery and backwardness. 

As my interest in the debate grew, I found myself delving into the issue, looking for evidence that would support claims often undocumented or lacking credible sources. I soon became convinced that Southern activists were reacting to the racist diatribes of the North with equally baseless arguments or, at least, claims that were either unsubstantiated or easily disputed. For instance, they insisted that the South had been a prosperous kingdom under the Bourbon kings, when, in fact, it was one of the poorest in Western Europe. They argued that under the Bourbons, public schools allowed everyone to learn the art of reading and writing, giving even the children of the peasantry the opportunity to have a career in public administration or in the army. This assertion falls flat when one considers that in 1861 only 0.86% of Southern children were enrolled in elementary school, a ratio lower than that of every other region in the country. By another measure, four years after the unification, 835 of 1,000 male and 938 of 1,000 female Southerners were illiterate.  Some contended that the brigands were heroes and patriots who defended the fatherland against the ‘invading’ Northern troops. In reality, most of the brigands were murders and cutthroats. According to accounts that some brigands recall in their autobiographies, they were the terror of the countryside. They survived in the hills by ransacking villages and killing inhabitants who refused to hand over money and / or jewlery. One of them wrote that he and his brigands were feared as the scourge of God, or flagelli di Dio. Southern sympathizers have also alleged that Garibaldi, the renowned ‘hero of the two worlds’, was not a hero, but a war criminal. This charge betrays a labored attempt to re-write history from a biased perspective, for Garibaldi was indeed a true hero. His myth as the champion of the oppressed continues to live on not only in Italy, but also in many parts of the western world. 

I concluded that such a biased revision of the past not only tended to inflame an already-heated debate, but also risked constructing a narrative of the southern identity based on facts as questionable as the ones some Southerners wanted to discredit. The southern cause would be better served, I came to believe, if the South undertook an honest evaluation of its past, acknowledged its problems, and accepted responsibility for the many obstacles that hindered its development. Only then would it be able to fashion a fresh and realistic image of itself, one that would counter the denigrating version that the North has been narrating for more than a century. Only then could the debate be elevated to a productive dialogue that would ultimately lead to a better understanding of the issue and inherently bring the two sides to speak as a united people of one Italy. I therefore decided to join the debate with an article on the identity crisis of the South or “La Questione del Mezzogiornoe la crisi identitaria del Sud,” which was published in Italica in 2014 and later pirated by a southern weblog. The intent was to bring a fresh and unbiased perspective to the discussion and, at the same time, stir it toward a more rational and worthwhile course. In keeping with this belief, I continued with my research and two years later, I wrote “In difesa di Garibaldi,” published in MLN and, like the other, pirated and posted on the Internet. As I came across other contentious issues informing the debate, I decided to write a book on the subject. Friends and colleagues both in Italy and in the United States suggested that I write it for a readership not as partisan as the Italian one. They convincingly argued that there are millions of Italo-Americans eager to read about their ancestors’ past in the context of the emigrants’ first experiences and the socio-economic reasons that led them to emigrate in the first place. And, equally important, why they chose to come to America. Accordingly, I expanded and translated in English the abovementioned articles and turned them into book chapters. The first article became the blue print for the entire project and constitutes the introduction to the book. 

Relying on archival data, reliable scholarly research, and newspaper reports, I focused on the much disputed causes and conditions that gave rise to troublesome cultural situations such as illiteracy, mass emigration, and organized crime. I also drew from the various ways in which poets and novelists, dramatists and filmmakers chose to put a human face on some aspects of these events by representing them in the fictional world of their works. The research led me to the conclusion that Garibaldi was a great hero, that the South continued to be embarrassingly illiterate under the new regime, and that the mafia evolved and prospered from the collusion between the State and the criminal element. I also found that mass emigration was brought about not so much by the new kingdom’s fiscal policies and neglect, as much as by outside forces beyond State control. The Americas attracted millions of laborers. Countries such as Brazil, Argentina, and the United States had a great need of laborers to help in the ongoing expansion of their industries and in settling the vast, undeveloped areas of their respective territories. Also, steamships began to replace the slow-moving sailing ships, fittingly known as ‘death coffins.’ The bigger and faster steamboats made ocean crossing more comfortable, less costly, and much safer. In addition, success stories and remittances from prosperous emigrants not only stirred immigration fever among the poor, but also made it possible for them to borrow the necessary funds to pay for the crossing. Thus immigration engendered immigration, as many joined friends, neighbors, and relatives already settled in the New World. 

But, just as I came to believe that the South needed to take ownership of its troubled past, I became convinced that the North, too, needed to accept its responsibility for failing to live up to its moral and political obligation to ‘reconstruct’ the region left devastated by the fight for annexation. Admittedly, the North did make some efforts to develop the South’s economy by supporting education, reclaiming marshlands, expanding roads and railroads, and investing in other public works. Unfortunately, the endeavor, mostly notably the public projects funded through the Cassa del Mezzogiorno(1950-90), did not yield the expected results. There was no cultural framework upon which to build a sustained development. Besides the lack of an educated labor force, there was a poor sense of civic responsibility and a dearth of entrepreneurial mentality. It was this unfavorable cultural setting that the new regime neglected to address, thus leaving in place the oppressive socio-political system that thrived under the Bourbons’ old kingdom. For one thing, it allowed the bourgeoisie to keep their old privileges and continue to lord over the masses. Local nobles and professionals, or galantuomini, were allowed to retain control of public institutions. This gave them the opportunity to hinder the expansion of public education and, in some instances, stymie efforts to improve the transport infrastructure. Such indifference toward the region’s local affairs issued in part from the commercial, political, and social realities of the moment. Politically, early governments needed the support of the bourgeoisie, for only the affluent and the literate were allowed to vote. Commercially, it made sense to favor the industrial complexes of the North because they were relatively modern, closer to the European markets, and enjoyed an adequate transportation system. Socially, there were very few literate commoners capable of holding public office. 

These reasons, however valid, were hardly a good excuse for the State to neglect the needs of the people it had promised to deliver from the illiberal Bourbon regime. But, while some accuse the new regime of flagrant indifference toward the ‘conquered’ territory, others argue that there were not sufficient resources to deal with the many problems that usually overwhelm a fledgling country. Having emerged from the costly Crimean war (1853-56), the armed conflict for the annexation of the South (1860-61), and three wars of independence (1848-66), young Italy was too financially strapped to invest in the South in a meaningful way. But the lack-of-funds rationale is more of a pretext than a justification. The actual reason for the neglectful attitude toward the South was rooted in the social bias and political expediency that forestalled public instruction and the transportation infrastructure, the very essentials for economic growth. For instance, the State’s decision to fund secondary education and practically ignore elementary instruction was politically motivated. In essence, the policy was meant to prepare a new generation of leaders mostly from the privileged classes. Government leaders were careful not to bolster mass education for fear of alienating the local galantuomini, their reliable constituents. From national public officials down to local authorities, they were all averse to popular instruction on the grounds that it could disseminate revolutionary ideas among the masses. Sadly, this political caution led the State to forsake its obligation to care for the people it had annexed, leaving them in the same wretched conditions in which it had found them. 

Facts and figures notwithstanding, neither the North nor the South has appeared willing to accept its share of responsibility for the events that fueled the socio-economic disparity in their respective region. This reluctance has seriously hindered the country’s efforts to achieve the unification it has been pursuing since 1860. At that time, a Northern diplomat reminded the new nation’s king, Victor Emanuel, that having made Italy, “now we must make the Italians.” The reminder underscored the fact that the Italians, tough now politically united, were still divided by culture, regional loyalties, and language barriers. But while the rancorous debate remains stuck in the past with its worn-out recriminations, significant events are bringing this much-coveted and elusive goal within reach. Illiteracy in the South has practically disappeared as improved transportation infrastructure allows for easy travel for pleasure or business, and industry, especially agriculture and tourism, keeps on growing at a healthy pace. Not least, most Italians now speak a common language, forsaking the local dialects of their grandparents. Also, outside forces, such as immigration, digital technology, the European Union, and global commercial realities are driving a cultural and economic transformation that is obliterating past differences. Notably, it is rendering the contentious debate virtually irrelevant. Today’s Italy is poised to bridge the century-old divide between North and South and finally ‘make’ the Italians.  If some Italians do not share this optimistic outlook, it is because they are too immersed in their daily realities to see that the country is shedding some of its most undesirable cultural traits.  Looking in from the outside, one can see that the country is slowly moving, as one united people, toward establishing itself as a modern society and as an economic power ready to compete in world markets.

I am aware that my conclusion may not please everyone, especially those who continue to rehash old arguments and stir partisan tendencies. But I am optimistic that many readers will welcome my fact-based approach to the cultural, economic, historical, and political circumstances that caused the country to split apart. They will also appreciate the reasoned argument that internal reforms and global pressures are driving Italy toward the real unification of its peoples and, in the process, making it a stronger economic power. Colleagues and friends who have followed the laborious progress of this manuscript have encouraged me to bring it to a conclusion. In their view, the argument needed to be made and readers, especially those still free of partisan influence, must be given the opportunity to read a documented and balanced perspective of the issues that have torn the country’s cultural fiber. With this audience in mind, I tried to make the text reader friendly by keeping foreign language quotations to a minimum. In most instances, I paraphrase the source and cite it in the footnotes. When necessary, I report the entire quotation in the footnotes. I must acknowledge here that I owe so much to those who in oneway or another helped me in bringing this project to its conclusion. Although they are too many to mention by name, I would be amiss if I did not express my most sincere gratitude to my dearest friends and colleagues, Rocco Mario Morano and Christopher Craig. They gave so much of their time and sound advice that I do not believe I would have been able to complete the work without their generous support. Chris Craig in particular never held back his critique of my style and arguments nor did he ever tire of reading each chapter over and over, helping to clean up mistakes and make the book presentable. Of course, if he deserves the credit for all the advice and guidance, I must take the blame for all the mistakes and missteps that the reader will inevitably find in the book. 

Salvatore Di Maria

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