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The Anatomy of Fascism
by Robert O Paxton
Mussolini's tone
A review by Martin Clark
Robert O. Paxton's new book is firmly in the comparative, analytical tradition
of writing about Fascism, a tradition that attempts to explain how Fascist movements
and regimes were founded and why they behaved as they did. He writes intelligently
and is clearly well informed about a host of differing movements including contemporary
ones, although the bulk of The Anatomy of Fascism focuses on the two exemplar
regimes in Italy and Germany. Indeed, Paxton recognizes here the essential problem
of his enterprise: it is difficult to generalize when there are only two fully
realized examples of the subject, especially when these two varied so markedly
from each other. Perhaps for this reason it is striking how tortuous definitions
of "Fascism" tend to be. Paxton's own definition is not exactly snappy
either: "Fascism may be defined as a form of political behaviour marked by
obsessive preoccupation with community decline, humiliation or victimhood and
by compensatory cults of unity, energy and purity, in which a mass-based party
of committed nationalist militants, working in uneasy but effective collaboration
with traditional elites, abandons democratic liberties and pursues with redemptive
violence and without ethical or legal restraints goals of internal cleansing and
external expansion".
Paxton regards Fascism as a five-stage process. The first stage is simply one
of grievances or threats to established interests or groups, and of normal democratic
processes being unable or unwilling to resolve them. Often this is because the
old political system or parties have collapsed, leaving a political vacuum or
at least much instability. Paxton tends to blame irresponsible intellectuals
for this: they undermine liberal regimes with their constant criticism, and
they have a nasty habit of apologizing for violence. At any rate, instability
is common enough, and hence there have been and still are a large number of
"fascist" movements in temporary agitation. We learn, in this book,
about the travails of the Greyshirts in Iceland and of the Blueshirts in Ireland.
However, most of these agitators progress no further, and are of academic interest
at most. The second stage, "taking root", is more serious. The "fascist"
movements become not only spokesmen but also organizers for the disaffected,
and start tackling the grievances themselves, illegally but effectively, and
with some official connivance. Paxton is right to stress the importance of this
development. It was not Mussolini, sitting in Milan and sounding off about Italy's
rights on the Adriatic, who made Fascism a mass movement in Italy; it was the
youthful "squads" of armed vigilantes in the Po Valley, destroying
socialist labour unions and throwing out newly elected socialist mayors. They
then founded their own unions and ran local government themselves. Much the
same happened in Schleswig-Holstein. In these regions, populist vigilantism
enjoyed the support of all right-thinking, or Right-thinking men, including
policemen and judges. Elsewhere, however, it did not, and Fascism progressed
no further. "Taking root" is more difficult than might appear, since
the movement is bound to be local, there are always rivalries and splits, and
governments can usually buy off the militants or take over the agitation themselves.
The third stage, "getting power", is the most vital of all. Paxton,
who made a notable contribution to Franco-American relations in 1972 by pointing
out, in Vichy France: Old guard and new order 1940-1944, that the Vichy regime
was run not so much by Fascist zealots as by the French Establishment, argues
that Fascists do not seize power, they have it thrust upon them. They make a
"historic compromise" with existing state authorities, who are anxious
to absorb the crude provincials into the official system and who of course assume
that they themselves will continue to decide everything. The key to understanding
how Fascists came to power in Italy and Germany lies, therefore, not so much
with the manoeuvres of Mussolini or Hitler but with those of king or president,
top army officers and a handful of others. Paxton's argument here is not novel,
nor altogether convincing. Certainly both Mussolini and Hitler were appointed
in a more or less constitutional manner, and certainly existing elites thought
they would retain most of their power and status; but the two leaders' manoeuvres
in the few months before they won office, and indeed their very personalities
and their unwillingness to compromise, were vital to the outcome in both cases.
They may not have needed to use much force, but they certainly had the threat
of it available and they made sure everyone knew it. The existing authorities
may have manoeuvred too, but the point is that they were outmanoeuvred. They
did not "compromise" so much as surrender.
Paxton's fourth stage is the "exercise of power", but he has to admit
that the two leaders behaved very differently once in office. Both of them,
of course, got rid of their more obstreperous followers, and both managed to
keep the Establishment fairly happy and to provide some rapid economic benefits.
Both ended up trying to transform everything. However, Mussolini governed essentially
through the state machinery, supplemented by ad hoc "parallel bureaucracies"
run by state technocrats. The Party was for propaganda; also to distribute favours
and to mobilize the young. Hitler was far more reliant on the Party and its
parallel bureaucracies, although he too, of course, used the State. These differences
were hugely important. It was not just that Mussolini had to put on a bowler
hat and visit the King twice a week; it was that he did not control the armed
forces, judiciary, or Senate, and that he might eventually be dismissed like
any other Prime Minister when he lost the confidence of the King, that is, of
the political and military elite. Hitler had no such worries. Moreover, in his
later years Mussolini tried to run everything himself and allowed his colleagues
little initiative; Hitler, far more idle, permitted competitive leeway. Paxton
does not explain these politico- administrative contrasts, which clearly owed
more to personality differences than to anything else. At any rate, generalizations
about how the Fascists "exercised power" rather break down when there
are only two examples, which differed as wildly as this.
Paxton's final stage is "radicalization or entropy?". He argues that
both Mussolini and Hitler had to keep up the Fascist muscle tone (Paxton's phrase)
by becoming ever more radical both at home and, particularly, abroad; otherwise
their regimes would simply have become flabby. This looks very much like a psychological
explanation, hitherto taboo. The fact is that any modern government, Fascist
or no, needs to fight campaigns and proclaim resounding victories, or else the
citizenry becomes restless. Perhaps Fascist governments are more liable to become
extremist, but there is not much evidence: Mussolini had been in office thirteen
years before he attacked Ethiopia, and only became noticeably radical at home
three years after that -- by which time "entropy" had already set
in. Hitler's regime also became more radical as Germany began losing. Radicalization
and entropy were not alternatives, they went together.
Paxton also discusses the contemporary European scene. "Post-Fascist"
movements share power in Italy and Austria, and of course Jean-Marie Le Pen
gave the French political classes a nasty shock at the last Presidential election
in 2002. These movements have clearly taken root. Robert Paxton argues that
the eventual outcome depends on whether conservatives are willing to ally with
these Fascist movements, and this in turn depends on maintaining a stable, democratic
party system. This is not a very startling conclusion, although it is worth
being reminded that in Italy it was the collapse of the old parties in the early
1990s that let the National Alliance into government. In any case, except in
ex- Yugoslavia these movements do not much resemble the nationalist vigilantism
of the 1920s, and there is no left-wing threat to frighten anybody into supporting
the extreme Right. Fascist movements thrive on insecurity; despite terrorism
there is not enough of it about, at least in Europe.
However, it might well be argued that fascist regimes are nowadays unnecessary,
since the modern parliamentary system does much the same job itself. Perfectly
normal governments now intervene throughout society, seeking Gleichschaltung
and control of all social institutions and of the private sphere; they engage
in constant short-term campaigns for populist goals; they recognize but ignore,
indeed tacitly welcome, the democratic deficit; and they seek control of the
media in the spirit of Goebbels and Minculpop. They even wage a series of wars
against weak opponents, claiming of course to be bringing liberation. With "democratic"
governments like these, who needs Fascism?
Martin Clark's books include The Italian Risorgimento, 1998, and Modern
Italy, 1871-1982, 1985.
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