Umberto Eco’s “Acid Test” for Fascism: Does Any of This Sound Familiar?

Could today’s populist movements be ticking the same boxes as mid-20th-century Fascism?

Jaime Martínez Bowness
Thought Thinkers

Mussolini posing.
Mussolini as Fascist tough guy — and subconscious (or not so subconscious!) role model for many of today’s politicians — in full cartoonish glory. Photo from Books On Trial.

I recently came across an article by celebrated Italian writer Umberto Eco from 1995 that could just as well have been written today, eight years after his death.

Eco’s name might ring a bell—among other books, he penned the Medieval whodunnit novel The Name of the Rose, made into a good movie with Sean Connery (about one of Aristotle’s lost works, concerning laughter and whether a good chuckle was okay with God or not), and Foucault’s Pendulum, a conspiracy-fiction thriller involving the Knights Templar that has inspired authors like Dan Brown.

In his 1995 article, titled “Ur-Fascism” (ur meaning original or first), published in the New York Review of Books, the Italian intellectual touches on the indoctrination that Italian children like him received in the thirties and forties to become “good little Fascists” and “willing to die for Mussolini and Italy.” He then goes on to identify several traits that Fascist movements worldwide shared back then — and continued to exhibit for fifty years after WWII among far-right parties and fringe political leaders across the world.

I was eerily fascinated by the similarities between Fascism and many of today’s populist politicians and movements.

Indeed, Eco mentions populism—which consists in appealing to the masses to overturn the status quo and, often, its institutions, by force if need be—as a potential doorway to full-blown Fascism. As I understand the two political stances, they are like blood relatives differing only in the degree of violence and rejection of individual rights that they bring forth.

Once the “Pandora’s box” of populism and its mob rule has been opened, it’s dangerously easy to slip into one-man rule.

Fascism’s basic ingredients according to Umberto Eco

A cult of tradition: Fascism differs from other forms of authoritarian rule in that it idealizes an imagined past when times were supposedly so much better. Fascists somehow try to resurrect that “glorious” yesteryear, whether it’s in the shape of Imperial Rome, a time when “men were real men,” or a more prosperous era in, ahem, America’s history.

Of course, bringing back the good ol’ days could also mean returning to the worst times of infant mortality, horrid dental hygiene, and peasant exploitation — but hey, well-thought-out ideas aren’t Fascism’s strong suit.

A rejection of modernism — or whatever passes for “modern” at the time. This has meant criticism of superficial technological advancement — technology for technology’s sake—or global banking as denounced by Hitler, Mussolini, and their copycats. Today, it’s the vilification of international institutions, global finance, immigration, open markets, multiculturalism, gender diversity, the adoption of ESG by companies and governments, etc.

It’s also why Fascism often pays lip service to “traditional values” and the wholesomeness of “village life” (illiteracy, poverty, bigotry, and incest — what’s not to like?)

The cult of action for action’s sake, valuing action and manual labor over white-collar work and institutions. It’s about marching, fighting, threatening, and “storming” places to get things done. Making things happen by the scruff of people’s necks — or else. This is also why academics, lawyers, legislators, bureaucrats, journalists, and their ilk are seen as weak, ineffective, and untrustworthy.

The notion that disagreement with the movement equates to treason; that you’re either with or against us. (All totalitarian movements, whether Left or Right, enforce this same “either/or” thinking, by the way.) There is a fear of differences and a promotion of a shared, collective identity — an “us” versus “them.” It’s tribal thinking.

An appeal to a frustrated middle or worker class: it’s something that many political movements exploit today, taking advantage of the deep-seated (and often entirely valid) resentment among various groups who feel the economy has left them behind. The thing is — Fascists position themselves, and not a particular institution or a well-thought-out policy, as a solution to people’s ills and grievances. It’s all about “me” and what “only I” can do for you.

An obsession with plots and conspiracies, often tied to anti-Semitism and the idea that one global elite or another controls everything, including media.

Here’s a really interesting trait: Fascist leaders depict their enemies as both too strong and too weak. They portray elites as feeble, disconnected, and “unmanly” yet, at the same time, powerful enough to oppress “the people” and, therefore, worthy of being ruthlessly deposed.

The belief that pacifism is treason: Eco here speaks from the experience of Fascist governments seeking to colonize other countries and expand their territory during the first half of the 20th century, a type of behavior that may appear outdated today — until you remember Putin’s Russia, seeking to gobble up former Soviet territories like Ukraine and imprisoning anyone who’s anti-war.

For Fascists, life is seen as permanent warfare — or a permanent mobilization towards some grand collective goal. They call for fighting an “enemy” and taking away rights and freedoms for that purpose. It’s an idea that connects perfectly with Fascism’s aggrandizement of action, manliness, nationalism, and hero worship.

Next is another of Fascism’s contradictory components: a contempt for the weak. Fascist leaders celebrate strength, youth, and a “can do” attitude, rejecting anything that seems weak or halfway. However, they also ritually engage in self-victimizing: “This or that elite oppresses us,” they say. So, what’s it going to be?

Moreover, Eco notices something I find psychologically fascinating: like many con artists, Fascist leaders who are either elected or supported into power tend to despise their underlings and mock the followers who they’ve been able to “con.” There’s a notion that people beneath you should be treated like dirt and ultimately deserve whatever rotten deal they get.

Machismo: tough-guy stances. Cartoonish masculinity. Claiming you’re the strongest, best, cleverest, most handsome, etc. You get the idea. This includes a disdain for women, “effeminate” men, and anyone suspected of being non-heterosexual.

Selective populism: the “in” group or “the people” are treated as a homogeneous whole, but internal differences arise sooner or later because it’s an artificial sameness. Fascist leaders, therefore, reserve themselves the right to interpret the popular will — and decide who doesn’t get to be considered “part of the tribe” anymore.

Finally, we have “Newspeak,” as coined by George Orwell in his novel 1984: the twisting of words, the invention of convenient new terms —like “alternative facts” — and the promotion of an impoverished vocabulary (including slurs and nicknames) that limits critical reasoning, vilifies enemies, and makes for good bumper stickers and slogans.

These traits were written down by Eco in 1995 — but do any of them sound familiar to you today?

I’ll bet they do.

Does this apply to politics today?

You could argue that it’s Fascism that Eco was describing and not “populism” or whatever term you consider is a more accurate description of today’s politics. But if you take a good look at Eco’s list, you’ll see that many of today’s macho, vain, self-aggrandizing politicians and their:

  • Appeal to “real” citizens —whether it’s “the people,” non-immigrants, or rustbelt workers — and polarization between them and “the elites,”
  • Disdain of institutions and laws,
  • Compulsive use of media to appeal directly to their supporters,
  • Conspiratory thinking, and
  • Desire to centralize power in their person and do away with restrictions and counterweights,

do fit the bill for Fascism to a surprising degree. They only come across as watered-down versions of the stronger stuff waiting nearby.

Not all populisms are a one-way ticket to doom

There have been cases of “in-and-out” populism that haven’t ruined their respective countries:

  • U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt, during the 1930–1940s, appealed to worker sentiment — engaging in his weekly “fireside chats” by radio — to pressure Congress into approving a series of ambitious bills and reforms, several of which went against the country’s establishment to overcome the Great Depression.
  • During the 1930s in Mexico, when the country was still vastly poor, President Lázaro Cárdenas took on the country’s political, economic, and religious elites to implement extensive land reform, nationalize industries, and invest heavily in public (and secular) education, setting the foundations for the Mexican “economic miracle” of the 1950-1970s.
  • Also at the start of the 20th century, Kemal Atatürk, in Turkey, enacted populist reforms by abolishing the Sultanate and Caliphate, secularizing the legal system, and promoting education and women’s rights. Despite his strong-fisted rule, he laid the groundwork for a modern democratic society.

But if things didn’t get out of hand in such cases, it was thanks to institutional restraints — laws, opposing political parties, law-abiding armed forces, journalists, and an independent judiciary — or, frankly, the sheer self-restraint shown by these leaders.

Under the mantle of popularity, Roosevelt, Cárdenas, or Atatürk could just as easily have sought to remain endlessly in power (Atatürk died in office, but there’s little evidence he desired to hang on indefinitely), put the Constitution through a paper shredder, and embark on foolish personal projects.

Because we can’t always rely on such serendipitous factors, and as Umberto Eco’s list suggests, the “Pandora’s box” of populism should be treated with utmost concern. It’s a paler shade and potential precursor to its all-out, evil cousin.

No comments:

Post a Comment