Happy Birthday Italy!

Italy, as we all know, is 150 tomorrow. This is a nation which likes a party, and yet here I have found reaction to the anniversary rather slow, almost indifferent. Italians see their history either in terms of millennia or in terms of modern times. The Romans called the peninsula ‘Italia’, 18th century British aristocrats doing the grand tour called the place Italy, even though, had there been a United Nations it would not have recognised any such country. So the idea of Italy is nothing new. What is being celebrated is the Italian Nation State, born in 1861, which in most people’s minds is a somewhat different thing.

And in truth Italy did not really want to unify: the various regions had become linguistically, culturally and gastronomically (important in Italy) diverse. Cavour, first Prime Minister and one of the great architects of the Risorgimento, spoke better French than Italian, and even now in the 21st century it is not uncommon to see a translator brought on at a conference when a speaker lapses into Neapolitan.

And the years since 1861 have been tough going. The Papacy, the Habsburgs and Napoleon are more than enough for any country to have on its CV and in the 19th century Italy suffered: its people were poor, hungry poor, its political institutions were unworkable and it was going nowhere. It had been ruled by the Habsburg Spanish, the Habsburg Austrians and a variety of city states before Napoleon attempted unity, or at least duopoly, by trying to manage the north while putting his brother in law Murat in charge of the South, under the title King of Naples, and annexing Venice.

As Napoleon fell from grace, and France withdrew its troops to fight the Franco-Prussian War, the intellectual and social elite felt the time had come to go for a unified Italian monarchy. The Risorgimento was a colourful period, with the derring-do of Garibaldi and the aristocratic superciliousness of Cavour, who felt that the rest of the nation should have been a client state under his region, Piedmont. They were coupled with a rag-bag of hothead revolutionaries, led by Mazzini. Eventually they kicked the Austrians out and they had their country. For what it was worth.

But not much happened for the man in the street: Italy was still an agrarian economy, the industrial revolution having largely passed it by. Despite some improvements to life in the south, people were leaving and eventually this went from exodus to depopulation. Between the turn of the century and the First World War 9 million people emigrated. A further 650,000 men were lost in the war, and many others starved.

Against this background the rise of Mussolini – some ten years before Hitler – seems unsurprising. Like many fascists he had started out as a socialist, but having fought in the war came to believe that a future of unity and homogeneity of the people lay not in the class struggle but in nationalism.

The story of Italy’s twenty year association with fascism is still being told. I know of two restaurants in what is largely a socialist region which have shrines to Mussolini; his is a name often mentioned, his deeds (which extend beyond making the trains run on time, if in fact, he did) much discussed still. The Italians worshipped him, then strung him up.

For many, modern Italy was born after the war, or with the Republican Constitution of 1948, and as with everything else in Italian politics, opinions differ violently as to the merits of what went on after that. There was something of an economic miracle, resulting in a surge of living standards as private and public investment fuelled an economy which had scarcely known investment. The Italian industrial model, of small firms grouped together geographically to benefit from regionally skilled workforces, seemed to be the new best thing.

Against that there was massive corruption: the mafia and its evil cousins grew, the politicians were in the pay of local and national warlords, runners of protection rackets and drug pushers. Corruption spread to every level of society and to all levels of economic activity; even as the 21st century dawned, 70% of Italian jobs were filled by recommendation not selection and shops in the south still pay the pizzo, protection money.

But the Italians became richer, with the European boom of the ‘60s and handouts from the EU. There was La Dolce Vita and Cinecittà, but against that the Anni di Piombo, the years of lead, with its assassinations and torture by organised crime. The Italian economic model was found out: it only ever really worked in the north, but economists came to realise that a multiplicity of small firms meant no research and development.

After Garibaldi and Mussolini, the person who has had the greatest influence on Italian life is Silvio Berlusconi. Amidst the troubles of today, it is easy to forget that Berlusconi came to power on a surge of anti-corruption feeling and from the desire to see a new level of administrative competence after the failures. He is still surprisingly popular, but the magic has gone. Italian embarrassment is less for their bella figura abroad than for the fact that their saviour seemed to have feet of clay, and they need to rethink the political model as well as the economic..

Berlusconi will go soon and a new era is dawning. Italy has a new journey to make. Growth is at half the European average, unemployment high and debt at more than 100% of income. In the 21st century the mood is towards decentralisation and celebrating the diversity of the regions, rather than unification towards a single focal point that was the case in 1861. Some say Italy will be content to remain a second division power, others say a new dawn awaits if they want it. Life is comfortable here, but with globalisation the high cost base has been exposed: German tourists complain about how expensive the supermarkets are.

What will the Italians do? There is no determination here to become another Germany. They would like things to be better, but as long as there is pasta con sugo, a glass of wine and decent coffee, the Italians will be happy and welcoming. I don’t care what the economic commentators say, it’s a great place to live.