Fascism

Throughout Europe, the past is staging a comeback, and its presence is not comforting. Last week in Rome, its shadows intruded again. A band of what Italians call "Nazi-skins" invaded Casa del popolo, a social center for immigrants. Shouting "Bastards, we're going to kill you," they threatened to throw Molotov cocktails into the building on the Via di Valle Aurelia. A 17- year-old immigrant suffered serious head injuries after being bludgeoned with an iron bar.

Two weeks earlier, a gang of 200 Nazi-skins marched through the northern Italian city of Vicenza shouting racist slogans and waving banners with swastika-like emblems. Mainstream political leaders expressed outrage, but not Teodoro Buontempo, 48, a self-proclaimed fascist elected to Parliament in March on the ticket of the National Alliance, the successor to the party founded by followers of Benito Mussolini. In an interview with the Turin daily La Stampa, Buontempo said, "I would send them into the midst of society" to proclaim their values. And they have. Speaking on the Italian television network RAI-1, Maurizio Boccacci, leader of the Vicenza marchers, said, "We follow a policy that we hope will regain lost values in our community. Fascism is the family, respect for older people and for the fatherland."

In this year of Normandy's remembrance, the extreme right -- always lurking in the wings of European politics -- is inching toward the spotlight. Parties of the far right collected upwards of 10% of the vote in some elections in France, Italy and Germany. Five members of the far right National Alliance hold seats in the new Italian government. Skinheads decked with swastikas continue to terrorize foreigners in Germany, Italy, Britain and Spain. While the number of neo-Nazis and neofascists in Western Europe remains minuscule, ugly pictures of straight-arm salutes, street hooligans and racial hatred are haunting reminders that the old ideologies are not dead.

The example of Italy is the one that troubles Europeans most. In the midst of a soul-destroying political crisis, Italian voters reached not just to the right but to the spiritual descendants of Mussolini to rescue their nation. These new politicians reject any direct fascist connection. Today's National Alliance says it is not interested in the authoritarian leadership and bombastic nationalism of the old Fascists but in tougher jail sentences, job creation and limits on immigration.

The most polished of the new breed is Gianfranco Fini, 42, who deftly transformed the once frankly neofascist Italian Social Movement, founded in 1946, and unabashed guardian of Mussolini's legacy into the right-wing National Alliance. The party, which won 13.5% of the vote in parliamentary elections in March, shares power in the right-of-center coalition government of millionaire-businessman Silvio Berlusconi. A politician of intentionally moderate language, Fini has labored to rid his party of its World War II ties -- but not always with success. Last April La Stampa roused a furor when it quoted him as calling Mussolini the "greatest statesman of the century." He complained that the interviewer put words in his mouth but still considers joining forces with Hitler to have been Mussolini's main mistake. That, he says, "ruined fascism."

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