I had lunch today with a 95-year-old
gentleman named Franco. He told me that his father
passed away in the 1950s, also at a ripe old age. We
did some quick figuring and determined that his father
was born in 1867. That was the year that Marx
published Das Kapital, the year in which The
Beautiful Blue Danube was played for the first
time, and the year in which the British North American
Act created the Dominion of Canada. The typewriter was
invented in 1867 and it was the year that Czar
Alexander II sold Alaska to the United States. Rome
was not yet the capital of a united Italy. I was one
generation removed from all that. (Somehow, all that
makes me feel very young rather than very old. That
seems strange.)
I am in the midst
of a "pump the elderly for information" campaign about
the situation in southern Italy following the
unification of Italy —that is, in the decade following
the unification in 1861, the year in which Piedmont,
Lombardy, Parma, Modena, Lucca, Romagna, Tuscany, and
the former Kingdom of the Two Sicilies (of which Naples
was the capital) were united under Piedmont's Victor
Emmanuel II to form the modern nation state of Italy.
(Rome would become the capital in 1870).
The reason for my
campaign is the few enquiries I have received about
northern mistreatment of the south following unification
—or, to use the terminology of those southerners who
express themselves vehemently about that period, the
"rape of the south". There certainly is no shortage of
material in Naples on the subject. I have even seen a
book about "the Savoy concentration camps," in which the
title uses the Nazi term "Lager" (from Konzentrationslager)
just so you don't miss the point. I am looking now at a
book entitled They Were the Real Bandits, those
Brothers of Italy. The title contains an allusion
to the first line of the Italian national anthem, known
as The Hymn of Mameli (after the author of the
text, Goffredo Mameli, 1827-49). The line starts, "Fratelli
d'Italia…" (Brothers of Italy), that phrase
being the alternate title of the anthem, itself. The
music is by Michele Novaro (1818-85). This particular
book is a condemnation of all the figures popularly
connected with the Risorgimento, the movement to
unify Italy; that is, Garibaldi is little more than a
thug in charge of a band of mercenaries in the hire of
northern hyenas such as Cavour and Victor Emmanuel II.
The defeat of the Kingdom of the Two Naples (The Kingdom
of Naples) by the forces of Garibaldi and Victor
Emmanuel was the beginning of mass unemployment and
general misery for the south and the beginning of
immigration away from the former Kingdom of Naples, thus
depleting its greatest resource, people who want to
work. And so on and so forth.
[Also see this entry on "bandits"]
I didn't get much from Franco, except something I already knew —the Risorgimento is sacrosanct in modern Italian history. You may take issue with the way it was done; that is, you may say something like "The unity of Italy (Risorgimento) was inevitable, but perhaps the invasion and conquest of the south was not. Maybe it could have been handled in another way." But you can't argue with the premise that Italy was to be one. The term, itself, Risorgimento means rebirth, resurgence, resurrection (all that). It is the name that Cavour gave to the newspaper he founded in 1849. In the opening paragraph of the first issue, he spoke of the need for a "political and economic risorgimento". The name stuck and became the name of the movement, itself, to unify Italy.
It would, however, be a mistake to view that movement strictly as the idea of northerners such as Garibaldi, Cavour, and Mazzini. Indeed, much of the philosophy underlying Italian unity comes from the south, from the members of the so-called Neapolitan Enlightenment such as Vincenzo Cuoco. Indeed, the first secret societies agitating for unity were the "carbonari", a southern invention. Thus, the drive to unity was broadbased. Could it have been achieved in any other way than by an invasion of the south? (The what-if school of history is always fun!) It turns out that on a least two occasions, Victor Emmanuel proposed an alliance with the Kingdom of Naples. He and the Neapolitans would divvy up the peninsula. Since this would entail taking over the Papal States (except for the city of Rome, itself), the King of Naples turned down the proposal as blasphemous. And, thus, Garibaldi did what he did; he invaded Sicily and then the Italian mainland. He disobeyed Victor Emmanuel, by the way. "Don't invade the mainland," was the order. Garibaldi wrote a nice note, asking for permission to "disobey". It is not clear that he waited for the return mail.
Thus, according to these books I am looking at, began a ten-year period of intense suffering for the south: looted treasury, industrial plants carried off, unjust imprisonment and even execution of Neapolitan citizens, etc. As I say, Franco was no help, other than to tell me that his grandfather, born in the 1840s, was a proud member of the Bourbon army of the Kingdom of Naples. I have one more gentleman on my list of those to be pumped. He is 105 years old. He is in good health, but now says he is feeling tired. Lunch next week, I hope.
Note on the spelling of Immanuel,
Emmanuel, Emanuel: there are variations in English
versions of the book of Isaiah (7:14) "...and
they shall call his name Immanuel..." (also Emmanuel —
but always two mm's). In Italian, the common given
name is Emanuele — one m. All
references to the Savoy dynasty and their kings of
Italy are spelled Vittorio Emanuele I, II, and III —
one m, one l. If you are writing about
them in English, it is correct to use two m's
-- that is, "There is a monument to Victor Emmanuel II
in Rome." If you are inserting the name of my street
into an English sentence, cite it as it written on the
street sign. "He lives on Corso Vittorio Emanuele."
(Hint: it's easier to write Corso V.E. They'll know
who you're talking about.) p.s. Modern Italian Bibles
that I have seen cite the name in Isaiah as
"Emmanuel".
to history portal
to top of this page