Latest news with #Fratellid'Italia
Spectator
02-07-2025
- Politics
- Spectator
The key to Giorgia Meloni's resounding success
Giorgia Meloni has emerged as one of the most significant politicians in Europe since she became Italy's first female prime minister in October 2022. I Am Giorgia, already a bestseller in Italy, is her account of how a short, fat, sullen, bullied girl – as she describes her young self – from a poor, single-parent family in Rome managed to do it. Her explanation is that she refused to play the victim, and found iron in her soul – even if, as she admits, she has never found happiness. It is an amazing story: how she transformed from an ugly duckling into the swan who is now a familiar figure on the largely male-dominated world stage, and whose humour, charm, friendliness and no-nonsense talk make her such a refreshing change. When she became Prime Minister, aged just 45, most media commentators dubbed her the 'far right heir of Benito Mussolini'. Her aim, they said, was to dismantle democracy, since she and others in the Fratelli d'Italia (FdI) were once in Italy's long-dead post-fascist party. She has not done so, and the party she co-founded in 2012, and defines as conservative, is more popular now than when the right-wing coalition she leads won the general election. That is almost unheard of for a party in government in the West. It is even rarer in Italy, where, since the fall of fascism in 1945, there have been 69 governments. Meloni's insistence that Italy should be close to America – very different to most European leaders' default position of resentment – led to a close rapport with Joe Biden, and continues now with Donald Trump. Biden saw her as a 'good friend' and Trump, who thinks her 'a fantastic woman', phones her when he wants to talk to Europe. It helps that she speaks good English, which, she tells us, she taught herself as a teenager, listening to pop music on her Walkman during long bus trips to and from school (a favourite was Michael Jackson). She dreamed of being an interpreter, and did well at school, but could not afford university. The title of the book is taken from an impassioned speech that Meloni gave in October 2019 at a right-wing coalition rally in Rome, when she bellowed: They want to call us parent 1, parent 2, gender LGBT, citizen X, with code numbers. But we are not code numbers… and we'll defend our identity. I am Giorgia. I am a woman. I am a mother. I am Italian. I am Christian. You will not take that away from me! The speech, which captures the essence of her politics, was so talked about it made her a social media star and caused support for the FdI to surge. It was even turned into a disco dance track designed to embarrass her, but which instead became a smash hit that made young people warm to her. At the May general election the year before, the party had received only 4 per cent of the vote; but at the 2022 general election it got 26 per cent – much more than any other party – and is now polling 30 per cent. This book, first published in Italy before Meloni came to power, avoids virtually all mention of Mussolini and fascism – which I understand, but I think is a mistake. Meloni should have spelled out why she and her party, despite their roots, are conservative. She might have written more, too, on how she has been inspired by the late Roger Scruton – whom she calls 'the prince of British conservative thought'. And she could have outlined the key differences between conservatism and fascism, which are too often falsely lumped together, owing to the still dominant Marxist view of fascism as a bourgeois counter-revolution. I would also have liked more on why Meloni and the Italian right in general since the 1970s are so besotted with J.R.R. Tolkien. Why do they identify with hobbits in the idyllic little world of the Shire, while outside the mustering forces of evil prepare to engulf them? As a youth member of the post-fascist party, Meloni and her companions would stage hobbit plays in the park, in which she invariably took the role of Sam Gamgee, her favourite Tolkien character. 'He's just a hobbit – a gardener by trade. Yet without him Frodo would never have competed his mission,' she writes. Perhaps the key figure in Meloni's life is the father she barely knew, whose name – Francesco – she even refuses to write. He was an accountant and abandoned her mother Anna, her elder sister Arianna and herself when a baby. Francesco had wanted Anna to have an abortion (still illegal in Italy in 1976); but on her way to the backstreet clinic, Anna changed her mind. Meloni was born thanks only to her mother's decision to defy her father. He then sailed off in a yacht to the Canary Islands to open a restaurant. (It later emerged he received a nine-year jail sentence in 1995 for drug-running.) The two sisters would fly out to visit him in the summer holidays, but he showed them no love, and, aged 11, Meloni decided not to see him again. When he died 'a few years ago… I felt nothing', she writes. But it made her realise 'just how deep the black hole was I had buried my pain in – the pain of not being loved enough'. It was her father's emotional, not physical, abandonment that drove her rise to the top – because she would then spend her life 'competing with men (not with women), seeking their approval, friendship… all of it because of that wound'.
New Statesman
24-04-2025
- Politics
- New Statesman
Giorgia Meloni's 'alt-West' vision
When the Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni met Donald Trump in the Oval Office on 17 April, she said she wanted to 'make the West great again'. Obviously, she was trying to speak Trump's language. But her use of the phrase was more than simply a tactic. It was a clear sign that there is a faction of the transatlantic far-right that does not so much want to destroy the West, but to reshape it. Meloni was the only European leader to be invited to Trump's inauguration in January and the first to meet with him since he imposed tariffs on European countries on 2 April. With the possible exception of Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán, Meloni is probably more aligned with him than any other head of government in Europe. Yet although Meloni's party, Fratelli d'Italia, and Orbán's, Fidesz, belong to the same grouping in the European Parliament, now called Patriots for Europe, it is the Italian prime minister who has a much more harmonious relationship with the European Union. She is close to European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen, with whom Trump has not yet met since returning to the White House. So, with the EU and the United States at odds over trade and European security, it is Meloni who is able to function as something of a mediator. The current rift between Europe and the US is often seen as a threat to, or even the end of, the West. In an interview with Die Zeit on 15 April, for example, Von Der Leyen declared: 'The West as we knew it no longer exists.' But it is not so much a struggle between supporters and opponents of the idea of the West than a battle between different ideas of the West. What Meloni and Trump stand for is not so much an 'anti-West' as an 'alt-West' – that is, a different, more civilisational idea of what the West is and stands for. The West is one of those terms that is used as if its meaning were obvious but can actually mean many quite distinct things. At its simplest, it is a geographic concept – a shorthand for Europe and North America. It can mean a strategic community – that is, Nato, or more broadly the US alliance system (including countries beyond the geographic West like Japan). It is also sometimes used in a developmental sense to refer to the world's advanced economies (which, again, includes Japan). However, the idea of the West also evokes something much bigger, with a longer history. This is often understood as a normative project going back to the European Enlightenment and the Atlantic revolutions, out of which liberal or representative democracy emerged. But some also see this project as having even deeper roots in a distinct 'Judeo-Christian' civilisation. In her meeting with Trump, Meloni made it clear that she had this civilisational idea of the West in mind. In practice, these various distinct concepts of the West are often conflated. In particular, mainstream Atlanticists like to think that Nato is a alliance of democracies that embodies and defends the normative idea of the West – hence the idea of a story that goes 'from Plato to Nato'. Some mainstream Atlanticists even conflate the West with democracy completely – as if the only democracies in the world were part of the West and all states outside the West were authoritarian. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe This mainstream Atlanticist version of the West that imagines Nato as an alliance of democracies is the one that Von Der Leyen seems to think no longer exists – both because of Trump's authoritarianism and the way that he seems to be abandoning Ukraine and distancing the US from its European allies and threatening to withdraw its commitment to their security. However, what far-right figures mean when they talk about the West is something altogether different. They imagine the West as a civilisation that faces multiple internal and external threats – from 'woke' ideology to immigration and rising or revisionist powers. Far from seeing itself as opposing the West, the far right thinks it is defending it. 'The fundamental question of our time is whether the West has the will to survive,' Trump said in a speech in Warsaw in 2017. 'Do we have the confidence in our values to defend them at any cost? Do we have enough respect for our citizens to protect our borders? Do we have the desire and the courage to preserve our civilisation in the face of those who would subvert and destroy it?' Mainstream Atlanticists tend to dismiss this position as a distortion of the idea of the West – or even as its opposite. But the idea of West always included a civilisational element. The Cold War, for example, was imagined in civilisational as well as ideological terms. In the preamble to the North Atlantic Treaty – the foundational document of the West as a strategic community – its signatories committed to 'safeguard the freedom, common heritage and civilisation of their peoples'. Meloni does not just mediate between the EU and the US but also between two different ideas of the West: the Atlanticist vision represented by Von Der Leyen and the civilisational vision represented by Trump. She is far more supportive of Nato than Trump, but more civilisational in her thinking than Von Der Leyen. What it might mean to reconcile the civilisational and strategic ideas of the West, as Meloni seems to be trying to, is not so much ending Nato but repurposing it for a clash of civilisations – that is, a world in which conflict takes place along civilisational lines. [See also: America's crisis is the UK's opportunity] Related
Reuters
19-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Reuters
Proud Polish fans' a cappella anthem inspires win over Italy
April 19 (Reuters) - When a technical fault prevented Poland's national anthem being played over the public address system, their ice hockey fans opted to sing an a cappella version, and the team went on to defeat Italy in their friendly international match on Saturday. Poland and Italy lined up on the ice at the ArcelorMittal Park in Sosnowiec, Poland, before the second match of their double-header, but after the rousing Italian anthem 'Fratelli d'Italia' there followed an awkward silence. Advertisement · Scroll to continue Report This Ad As the players and fans stood waiting, it soon became clear that this was not a planned minute's silence but rather a technical hitch, and after a lone voice began singing the opening line, soon the whole crowd, and team, joined in. The Poland side, who had lost Friday's match 3-2, were clearly inspired by their fans' show of patriotism and passionate support and went on to defeat the Italians 3-1. Poland's anthem, 'Mazurek Dabrowskiego', is often known in English as 'Poland Is Not Yet Lost' due to the translation of its opening line. The words were written in Italy by Jozef Wybicki, and was originally titled 'Song of the Polish Legions in Italy'.
Yahoo
12-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
From Trump to Europe's populists, it's not fascism that's rising – it's anger at broken politics
A respected journalist asked me the other day whether, as a historian, I thought that we were seeing a resurgence of fascism. It made me think. We might respond that fascism has long been merely a rude word flung around indiscriminately by people on the Left, and hence meaningless. But on reflection, I think taking the question seriously may yield some light as well as heat. Fascism was not a single ideology, but a style of politics with certain recurring themes. It was aggressively nationalist and often racist, targeting enemies within as well as enemies without, and it fed off a sense of national humiliation. It focused on a charismatic leader and his will. It encouraged mass participation, and liked uniforms and marches. It scorned parliaments and legal restraints, and wanted decisive action, including violent action. It worshipped the power of the state and was fascinated by new technology. It appealed to people who felt marginalised and victimised, and offered them revenge as well as material benefits. Unlike the mainstream Right, it was genuinely radical. Unlike the Left, it was not anti-capitalist. Although if we think of fascism, we inevitably think of Mussolini and Hitler, there were many forms of politics from the 1920s to the 1970s – some more conservative, some more socialist – that shaded into this fascist style or copied parts of it: in Portugal, Spain, Yugoslavia, Romania, Hungary, Japan, Argentina, later Greece. Even Ireland, France, Britain, Norway, Belgium and Holland had fascist movements. And today? Putin's Russia largely fits the bill. Modi has been accused of creating a Hindu fascism in India. Western Europe is understandably more cautious. In Germany, the mainstream parties keep the AfD out of power however many vote for it because they believe it represents a return to fascism, and is beyond the pale. Marine Le Pen in France has not wholly escaped the same boycott, despite leading the largest party, and Georgia Meloni in Italy has only recently done so. The AfD, the Ralliement National, the Fratelli d'Italia and the Spanish Vox party have all contained, or still contain, people with at least historical links to fascist movements. But this is no longer a taboo with angry voters, especially the young for whom the past is another country. Soon, much of Europe may be governed by parties with some affinity with fascism, even if they deny it or genuinely try to escape it. What about Donald Trump? How does he fit into this picture? The recklessly charismatic leadership, the assertive nationalism, the appeal to the marginalised, the startling radicalism, the violence of some of his MAGA followers – these things are evident, and as worrying to some as they are exhilarating to others. But the differences are much more significant than the similarities. What Trump represents is a modern version of a familiar kind of American populism, in which the state is seen as the barrier to individual success, while a remote elite ride roughshod over the ordinary citizen. His attempt to capture the institutions of the state is not aiming to make the state stronger (as fascists wanted), but on the contrary to reduce its power and reach. However, what is glaringly different from earlier American populism is Trump's alliance with powerful business interests, and indeed the presentation of Trump himself as a proud billionaire. Today's circumstances are hugely different from when fascism emerged in Europe. The catastrophe of the First World War had destroyed old multinational empires. The world was shaken by economic disasters. All the countries where fascism grew powerful had suffered terribly in the war. In all of them, democratic government was new, fragile, ineffective and often corrupt, and all were wracked by appalling political violence – the prime minister of Bulgaria had his head sent to Sofia in a biscuit tin. To crown it all, there was the terrifying threat of Communism, which was killing millions in Russia, and which fascists saw themselves as resisting by force. That is what produced fascism, and today's dangers though real are less extreme. There is no Communist threat. All the countries where new forms of radical politics are emerging are mature democracies. Unlike Mussolini and Hitler, who needed violence and intrigue to take power, today's radicalism has unconstrained support at the ballot box. The developed world is wealthy (relatively), peaceful (mostly) and orderly (on the whole). This makes today's crisis of the post-Cold-War political consensus all the more glaring, and all the more self-inflicted. What has happened? Since the end of the Cold War and the supposed 'end of history', the ruling consensus among the Western world's governing elites has been globalist in economics and politics. Their aspiration was an increasingly borderless world of free movement of capital, goods and people. Both Left and Right shared variants of this aspiration. The Left emphasised post-nationalism and multiculturalism, with diversity and anti-racism providing an emotional thrill. The Right emphasised freedom of trade and investment, and the supposed economic benefits of cheap labour. In effect, the results were the same. The old politics of national interest, job security, patriotism and community were derided as irrelevant at best, and racist at worst. Instead there grew up a 'rules based order' in which political choice and action were stifled by international organisations, quangos and law courts. The Starmer government clings to this system, as the incomprehensible Chagos Islands affair shows in caricatural form. Trump rejects it. Across the democratic world, many voters are rebelling. One of the first rebellions was the Brexit vote in 2016, which most of the international elites of Right and Left tried to stop. But despite all the pressure and propaganda, a recent survey shows that only in parts of Scotland and a handful of university towns in England is there even a slight majority for closer relations with the EU. Here too, Labour clings to a moribund vision. Perhaps all these popular rebellions will fail. Trump may crash and burn. Brexit may be 'reset' into extinction. Nevertheless, popular anger will not go away. Globalisation has fostered Chinese expansionism, mass migration, insecurity, marginalisation, and a concerted elite attempt to destroy national solidarity. It is failing to buy people off with economic growth. We are seeing an unnerving experiment: Trump's action, Starmer's inaction. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Yahoo
11-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Europe's populists' dirty secret is that they are so pro-Putin
All over Europe, the prevailing political wind is blowing to the Right, often to the hard-Right. Populist hard-Right parties are already in power in Italy, Hungary and Slovakia; form part of ruling coalitions in the Netherlands, Croatia and Sweden; and are bidding fair to replace the ruling centrist elites in France, Germany and Austria. But beneath this uniform success story – which threatens to upend the whole centrist liberal order that runs the EU – there is a looming split among the populists that could prove to be their Achilles Heel. Though some, like Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni's Fratelli d'Italia (Brothers of Italy) party, are loyal to NATO and Western resistance to Vladimir Putin's brutal war on Ukraine; many, if not most, of the populists display a worrying affection for the Russian dictator, and a readiness to excuse the atrocities of his criminal regime. An affection that Putin's agents are working hard to exploit. This tenderness towards the Kremlin's aggression is often – as in the case of Viktor Orban's ruling Fidesz Party in Hungary – born of sheer opportunism, as Russia supplies almost all of Hungary's energy needs; but in other places the populists admire Putin's hard fisted ways of dealing with his critics for its own sake, and doubtless wish they could imitate him with their own opponents. In Austria, for example, the leader of the hard-Right Freedom Party (FPO) Herbert Kickl, who came top in last September's elections, and is currently negotiating with conservatives to form a coalition government in Vienna, signed a so called 'Friendship Treaty' with Putin's United Russia party in 2016, and the head of Austria's internal security service has warned that the FPO's close ties with Moscow threatens both Austria's security and its international neutrality. Elsewhere in Eastern Europe, Robert Fico, the authoritarian Prime Minister of Slovakia, who survived being shot in an assassination attempt last year, made a personal Christmas Pilgrimage to see Putin, ostensibly to discuss the continued supply of Russian gas to his country. As Fico was unaccompanied by Slovak diplomats on his festive trip though, there are suspicions that he was also discussing cementing closer ties with Moscow. Fico has frequently spoken out against Ukraine and threatened to expel Ukrainian refugees from Slovakia. In making friends with the tyrant in the Kremlin, Orban and Fico are forgetting their own country's tragic histories of being invaded by Russia. In 1956 Russian tanks bloodily crushed an anti-Communist revolution in Budapest, and in 1968 Soviet tanks did the same to snuff out a softer Communist regime in Czechoslovakia. Most disturbing of all Putin's European pals, however, given Germany's status as the EU's strongest economy and most populous state, is the fawning attitude of the nationalist Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party, now running second in the polls on more than 20 per cent, in the current campaign for Germany's election on February 23rd. As in neighbouring Austria, Germany's internal spy agency has warned that Russia is trying to destabilise the country by infiltrating the AfD and influencing it in an anti-Ukraine direction. Putin's agents don't need to work too hard: the AfD's official election platform already calls for an end to Germany's military support for Ukraine, and the resumption of Russian energy supplies, and the party is riddled with anti-American figures who prefer to cosy up to Moscow. A smaller populist party, the BSW, with roots in the former ruling Communist party of East Germany, is even more slavish in its obedience to Moscow's orders and interests. Some of Putin's former friends have fallen by the wayside and quit his hallelujah chorus. In France, Marine Le Pen's nationalist National Rally has strongly criticised the invasion of Ukraine. It was a different story in 2017 when Le Pen trod the well worn path to Moscow and was photographed shaking hands with Putin. Her party also took a six million euro loan from a Russian bank to part finance her Presidential campaign – a loan which was hastily repaid in 2023 after criticism that Le Pen was in Putin's pocket. Although the populist parties are currently enjoying huge surges of support for their opposition to mass immigration through Europe's open borders, too many of them are behaving like Putin's useful puppets in his long game of destabilising the West. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
