Rituals of Colonial Memory: Crafting Imperial Nostalgia in Republican Italy

In 1984, Angelo Del Boca, a pioneering scholar of Italian colonialism, published the final volume of his tetralogy titled Gli italiani in Africa Orientale. Nostalgia delle colonie [Italians in East Africa. Nostalgia for the Colonies]. ¹ This ground-breaking work not only explored the unique character of Italian nostalgia for the colonial era but also critically engaged with the specific political context surrounding the demise of the fascist empire. Since its publication, this intervention has sparked renewed interest in examining the conclusion of the Italian empire. Particularly in the last decade, this interest has focused on unravelling the end of colonial rule in Eritrea, Libya, Somalia and Ethiopia within the context of broader national and global dynamics. ² Furthermore, recent studies align with international historiography by exploring how former colonial settlers returned and re-inhabited the metropolitan centre after the empire's collapse, ³ as well as how Italian politics has managed their returns and their claims. The convergence of these factors is prompting a revaluation of the protracted nature of Italy's decolonization and its distinctiveness in the context of colonial and post-colonial histories. ⁴

Despite these significant advancements in understanding Italy's decolonization, there is still much work to be done to appraise how the related issues – such as the management of former settlers’ returns in the 1970s, and the transition from colonial/trusteeship policies to bilateral agreements and developmental cooperation actions – interacted with Italy's political and social scenario of the Prima Repubblica, or First Republic, as the decades from the adoption of the postwar constitution to the early 1990s were called. Building on this historiographical awareness and utilizing a multifaceted array of sources, my intervention aims to trace how some nostalgic evocations of the empire functioned within, and adapted to, the contexts of postwar and contemporary Italy. While deeply rooted in the tumultuous transition from fascism to the Republic, as recent scholarship has demonstrated, ⁵ the biased memorialization of the empire has continued to shape perceptions of Italy's purportedly positive role in Africa to the present day. This is partly due to its conflation with various commemorative practices and political milieus that characterized Italy's postwar decades. ⁶ Accordingly, it is my contention that the nostalgic remembrance of the colonial era persisted not simply due to specific politics of memory implemented by various institutions, but because returnees associations and conservative/neo-fascist parties reframed its enduring relevance in the increasingly polarized political and social landscape of Republican Italy.

After a preliminary historiographical contextualization on how the collapse of the fascist empire during WWII affected the politics and cultural memories of postwar Italy, I will focus on the social and cultural activities of returnees’ associations. These associations served as significant vehicles for the diffusion of a nostalgic recollection of the colonial past, which assumed a ritualized form in the post-colonial decades, supported and often appropriated by diverse political forces. ⁷ The analysis will rely on different sources. Firstly, State sources will lead to a reconstruction of the associational field primarily from the State's perspective. Additionally, to expand and enrich this reconstruction, I will incorporate the study of associations’ cultural products and social practices, as well as newspapers and audiovisuals. This approach will offer a more comprehensive understanding of these associations’ role in shaping imperial nostalgia and public discourses on the colonial past in contemporary Italy.

This contribution hence aims to delineate the origins and development of certain nostalgic associations and rituals, with particular attention to the Associazione Nazionale Combattenti e Reduci d’Africa [ANCRA, National Association of Fighters and Returnees from Africa] and the Associazione Nazionale Reduci e Rimpatriati d’Africa [ANRRA, National Association of Africa Veterans and Returnees]. By examining how these associations interacted with institutions and political parties, particularly far right and neo-fascist organizations, and analysing their activities and publications, we can shed light on how they reconstructed the colonial past amid shifting political circumstances. As I trace the origins and development of these rituals, I will refer to, and nuance, Patricia Lorcin's differentiation between imperial and colonial nostalgia. Lorcin delineates imperial nostalgia as glorifying the overarching notion of empire, highlighting the grandeur and cultural superiority of the colonizers as meaning-maker in the context of the loss of the imperial status. In contrast, colonial nostalgia focuses on memories of colonial rule in certain territories by a vast array of subjects involved, longing for a perceived ‘golden age’ while ignoring its harmful effects on local peoples and societies. ⁸ As we delve into the historical reconstruction of these associations’ activities and their interaction with the Italian political landscape, we will address the interplay of both concepts. This is largely because the creation of both colonial and imperial nostalgia, along with the ritualized reframing of past narratives and cultural practices, has served as a means for former settlers and association members to address contemporary political issues and to gain social resonance.

I will shed light on diverse initiatives, which have combined recollections of the colonial era with elements of neo-fascism and Catholic symbolism, forming what can be described as a specific form of ‘religious memory’ of the colonial period, characterized by ‘a ritualized memory where each event only makes sense in relation to the legendary organization of a past’. ⁹ The significant influence of the Catholic Church in Italy, evident in the leading role played by Democrazia Cristiana [DC, Christian democrat party] in the postwar decades, compels us to examine the specificities of such ritualized manifestations of imperial nostalgia. As we shall demonstrate, these manifestations exhibit distinct characteristics compared to analogous cases in Italy and beyond. ¹⁰ In doing so, I aim to provide innovative insights that expand both the historiographical framework for studying the end of Italy's empire, and the evaluation of its enduring effects on Republican Italy's politics and society.

The loss of the Italian colonies was a complex process, intertwined with – and somewhat obscured by – the broader postwar transition. Nevertheless, it has left significant marks on the formation of postwar national identities, in the new positioning of Italy towards its former colonies, as well as in the remembrance of the imperial past. ¹¹ Fascist Italy began losing its empire with the defeat in the Horn of Africa in 1941, and subsequently lost Libya in 1943, both at the hands of Allied forces. Despite the anti-fascist ethos of post-fascist governments, after the conclusion of World War II both the National Unity Cabinets and subsequent governments led by the DC advocated for the ‘return’ of Libya, Eritrea, and Somalia, the overseas territories conquered before the fascist occupation of Ethiopia. Although the Paris peace treaty (10 February 1947) stipulated that Italy must renounce all claims over its former colonies – without specifying the precise modalities of their future government – this plea was reiterated in various diplomatic forums and enjoyed the support of all parliamentary factions at least until the end of 1948. ¹² The strategic importance of the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean heightened amid rising bipolar tensions, leading to contention among Western powers. ¹³ The Italian strategy underwent a sudden shift in the summer of 1949: Italy agreed to the immediate independence of Libya and Eritrea (which would federate with Ethiopia from 1952). Somalia would achieve full independence after a ten-year period under the Italian trusteeship administration [Amministrazione Fiduciaria dell’Italia in Somalia, or AFIS] (1950–1960), a unique case of a trusteeship administration entrusted to a country defeated in war.

Scholars have thoroughly shown that both the political and diplomatic actions to regain a para-colonial influence in Africa, as well as the configuration of Trusteeship of Somalia, did not stray far, either conceptually or practically, from the preceding colonial framework. ¹⁴ Moreover, research on the repatriation of Italian settlers from Libya and the Horn of Africa – occurring in two major waves in the mid-forties and the seventies – has broadened the time span to interpret the end of Italian colonialism. ¹⁵ These phenomena were similar to those occurring in other European metropolitan centres, which were grappling with anti-colonial struggles and, in many cases, attempting to reconfigure their overseas dominion through new institutional frameworks or under the auspices of the Trusteeship administrations of the United Nations. ¹⁶ If these elements are decisive in reconsidering Italy's exceptional position in the domain of colonial/post-colonial histories, it is also true that Italy's decolonization presents some peculiarities. Firstly, it intersected with the broader (and imperfect) transition from fascism to the Republican era. Moreover, the relative absence of explicit moments of conflict between former settlers and former subjects has contributed to rendering the end of the empire a minor issue compared to the broader postwar reconstruction. ¹⁷ In this regard, the uncritical formation of memories of colonialism merged into a largely, self-absolving, postwar collective memory, which was ‘founded on the constant confrontation between Italy and Germany, and the consequent minimization of Italian guilt’ not only regarding the involvement in deportations and massacres perpetrated within the Peninsula, but also in the Balkans and in Africa. ¹⁸

The fact that the ruling party in the postwar decades – the Democrazia Cristiana – advocated for the return in Libya, Eritrea and Somalia is another aspect that invites us to examine how a conservative, Christian-oriented ideological framework shaped a specific recollection of Italy's ‘civilizing’ mission in Africa. This discourse materialized in a propaganda campaign and in a series of recurring events primarily orchestrated by the Ministero dell’Africa italiana [MAI, Ministry of Italian African]. ¹⁹ Various associations and societies that had invested in the colonies, along with numerous institutes and research centres contributed to the exaltation and ritualization of colonial memories in postwar Italy, especially after the signing of the Paris peace treaty. These included the Centro Studi Coloniali [Centre for Colonial Studies] and the Istituto Agronomico per l’Africa Italiana [Agronomic Institute for Italian Africa] in Florence, the Società Africana d’Italia [African Society of Italy] in Naples, the Istituto Italiano per l’Africa [IIA, Italian African Institute, the former Italian Colonial Institute] and the Società Geografica Italiana [Italian Geographical Society] in Rome.

A major gathering for these institutional forces, as well as for pro-colonial societies, took place in May 1947 in Rome: the Congresso Nazionale per gli Interessi del Popolo Italiano in Africa [National Congress for the Interests of the Italian People in Africa], organized by the IIA. ²⁰ The official magazine of the IIA (Continenti) reported all the interventions by various politicians, scholars, and association representatives, who emphasized that the activities were held in ‘full agreement among the various political currents united in a “sacred union” to defend these national interests’. ²¹ The use of religious metaphors recurs throughout the issue, with Italian industriousness exalted as a universal mission.

Il Lavoro è una religione che ha negli italiani i migliori sacerdoti, e il nostro ritorno in Africa […] è nell’interesse della civiltà mondiale [Work is a religion, and the Italians are its best priests. Our return to Africa […] is in the interest of global civilisation]. ²²

The height of emotional involvement regarding Italy's empire end occurred in January 1948: in Mogadishu (then under BMA control), a demonstration organized by the Somali Youth League (SYL) clashed with an unauthorized, pro-Italian parade backed by the Italian community. After the riots, 52 Italians were killed and 48 badly wounded, while 14 Somalis were killed and 43 wounded. ²⁵ Several requiem masses for the Italian victims were held across the Peninsula, ²⁶ the most important of which was that celebrated in the prestigious Santa Maria degli Angeli church in Rome. Some important Italian politicians, including Prime Minister Alcide De Gasperi and Giuseppe Brusasca, attended to pay homage to the victims. ²⁷ Similar events unfolded in various cities of Italy: in Turin, cardinal Maurilio Fossati celebrated a solemn mass on 19 January 1948. The ‘highest civil and military authorities of the province’, along with members of associations of ‘refugees from Africa, representatives of the Association of Africa Veterans (founded in Turin in 1895), and an impressive crowd’ attended the ceremony. These associations appealed to undersecretary Brusasca, requesting ‘reparations for the fallen and compensation for the damages’ they suffered, as well as ‘to safeguard the good name of the Italian combatants who, with the sacrifice of their lives, sowed the seeds of civilization in overseas lands’. ²⁸

All these reports emphasized the eschatological dimension of the sacrifice of the victims, deemed as ‘martyrs’ and honoured for their sacrifice: the Catholic rituals became part of the liturgy of colonial remembrance, and religious metaphors emphasized the topicality of the issues at stake. In these events and representation, we notice the interplay of old and new colonial groups, mainly led by former settlers who had returned: they came together to demand assistance and reimbursements from postwar governments to compensate for the losses they suffered after departing the empire. In this regard, their pleas mirrored and intersected those of other refugee groups, particularly from Istria and Dalmatia, who resettled in the postwar nation while striving to shake off the stigma of fascism that accompanied their return. ²⁹ References to other groups of returnees and refugees are a recurring theme in the aforementioned mnemonic practices, documents, and narratives. The dialogical interconnection and porosity among various commemorative practices – their ‘multidirectionality,’ to quote Rothberg ³⁰ – needs, however, to be unpacked. This is mainly because the ritualization of African memories by colonial returnees’ associations introduces certain complexities and peculiarities, which arise primarily from the intersection with Italy's new political stance in its former colonies and the persistence of colonial imagery still prevalent in postwar Italy. This pervasiveness influenced how topics related to the end of the empire were addressed and represented. ³¹ Furthermore, the ongoing influx of returnees from Africa, even after the resolution of colonial issues, and subsequent waves following socialist coups in Libya and Ethiopia (in 1970 and 1974 respectively), underscore the continued relevance of these processes, highlighting their enduring impact on Italy's postwar social and political landscape.

The repatriation and management of different categories of individuals (military personnel, prisoners of war, former settlers) from different parts of the world carried significant emotional weight. However, as for the former Africa settlers, Italian postwar governments considered them as a political asset to strengthen its claims for a return to the colonies. However, the initiative to keep former settlers in Africa, both to showcase Italy's positive impact on the continent and to alleviate the government's expenses for their repatriation, ultimately failed. ³² This element somewhat contradicted the founding rhetoric of Italian industriousness in Africa, which was utilized not merely to justify the liberal and fascist project of settler colonization (the Impero del Lavoro – Empire of Labour) but also to rationalize Italy's claims over its former colonies and the repatriation of the Italian workforce to post-colonial Africa. ³³

During the prolonged collapse of the fascist empire, numerous men were mobilized for military service, many ending up in POW camps, primarily in Kenya and India, while thousands of civilians remained in the Horn of Africa and Libya. To facilitate their return, an Italian inter-ministerial commission implemented a special naval mission between 1942 and 1943, bringing back approximately 28,000 individuals. These flows continued over subsequent years, with over 200,000 Italians returning from the colonies, as reported by the International Refugee Organization in 1949. ³⁴ The challenging and costly management of colonial returnees became a contentious issue: the majority of returning settlers were unemployed and in need of state help, and they were legally classified as ‘refugees from Italian Africa’. As such, the State provided them with a monthly subsidy, which was administered by the African Office and the Postwar Assistance Office. However, the implementation of these projects proved to be challenging. As of 1953, approximately 40,000 Italians returning from Africa were still dependent on public subsidies, with around 2,500 of them residing in refugee camps. ³⁵

As occurred in the resettlement from the Balkans, as well as in coeval decolonizations, ³⁶ Italian (former) settlers began to draw attention from the political system and public opinion regarding their precarious situation in a metropolitan context that was vastly different from the one they had left years or decades ago. Their objective was to lobby postwar governments to recognize their status as refugees or war victims, thereby petitioning for assistance and compensation for their ‘losses’. While emphasizing their dire circumstances, these associations began to construct a specific, nostalgic yet selective narrative of the colonial past. This narrative closely aligned with the politics of memory that several institutions were implementing to maintain influence over Libya, Somalia and Eritrea in the mid to late 1940s. ³⁷ However, grassroots activities of these groups persisted in subsequent decades, even after the cessation of ‘official’ propaganda orchestrated by the MAI. These activities manifested in various occasions and events, including social gatherings, publications, conferences and religious services.

One of the most remarkable examples, yet unexplored by historiography, is the Associazione Nazionale Combattenti e Reduci d’Africa (or ANCRA), established in Rome in 1947. It was founded by Siro Persichelli, an Italian military official who had commanded the VI Ascari division during the fascist aggression of Ethiopia. In April 1941, he unsuccessfully defended the city of Keren against the Allied forces, a battle which marked the end of the fascist occupation. Upon returning to Italy, Persichelli began to compile the memories of his overseas experience and, in 1947, he founded ANCRA, ³⁸ which already ‘counted numerous members and various sections in many cities of Italy and in Eritrea’. ³⁹

The ANCRA maintained close ties with other significant refugee associations, such as Associazione Nazionale Profughi dall’Africa Orientale [ANPAO, National Association of Refugees from East Africa] and Associazione Nazionale Profughi dalla Libia [ANPL, National Association Refugees from Libya], sharing with them not only the conservative political orientation but also similar objectives and social activities. ⁴⁰ However, the distinguishing feature of ANCRA was its ambition to preserve the ‘spiritual heritage’ and the prestige of Italians who served and sacrificed their lives in Africa. The founding charter [statuto] explicitly mentions the determination to ‘revitalize, remember, safeguard and perpetuate the worship of our heroes who boldly sacrificed themselves on African soil, possibly collecting their dispersed remains and reuniting them in specially established Italian cemeteries’. ⁴¹

One of the most recurring activities of ANCRA was the organization of requiem masses in memory of Italian soldiers and settlers, despite the association's statute declaring it a non-political and non-religious organization. For example, a mass was held in Rome on 27 November 1947, at the Santa Teresa Church, to commemorate ‘the heroes who perished in the defence of Gondar’ exactly six years earlier. Another mass took place at the prestigious Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli (Rome) on 31 April 1948, marking the seventh anniversary of the battle of Keren. These religious commemorations indicate the intertwining of nationalism, colonial memory and Catholic rituals: here again, the reference to the heroism of soldiers and settlers assumes an eschatological perspective, as they are remembered and portrayed as having sacrificed their lives in the pursuit of the Italian ‘civilizing mission’ in Africa. ⁴²

The mythical depiction of the African experience laid the foundation for the ‘religious memory’ of the colonial past, intending to shape a favourable recollection of that era. This phenomenon bears some resemblance to the subsequent associationism of Pied-Noirs in France. In fact, these practices downplayed the role of colonial violence in the general recollection of the past while articulating the positive impact of colonization both in the former dominions and in the society of the metropolitan centres. ⁴³ Nevertheless, the comparison between the Italian and French cases regarding this form of ‘colonial-religious nostalgia’ reveals significant discrepancies. This is primarily due to the different political configurations of the decolonial transitions in each country. Moreover, in the French case, the remembrance of the colonial past, particularly of the trauma of the Algerian war and the Nostalgérie, stemmed from groups with diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds, including Catholics, Protestants, Jews and Muslims. ⁴⁴ The amalgamation of these memories gave rise to a distinct configuration of rituals and discourses of remembrance. In contrast, in the Italian case, the shared Catholic background and nearly homogeneous political allegiance among the members of ANCRA and other nostalgic groups cultivated what could be termed a ‘Catho-nostalgic’ liturgy of colonial memory. These recurring public events aimed to honour former settlers and to develop a calendar of remembrance seamlessly integrated into the new course of Republican Italy, in which the clash between conservative and communist forces defined the political landscape throughout the postwar era. This ignited a subtle tension that became clearer in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, as the rituals of colonial memory intended to rewrite the colonial past in a positive light, while the communist forces becoming keener in highlighting the negative aspects of colonialism.

The sacralized character of Italian colonial memory, often fashioned with Catholic metaphors, is palpably evident in the materials produced by the ANCRA, particularly in a significant publication issued in 1950 titled Italia e Africa [Italy and Africa]. This publication collects contributions supportive of Italy's presence in Africa, presenting a purported ‘historical and exegetical synthesis of the civilizing work carried out by our country in the African continent’. ⁴⁵ Such an ambitious objective garnered recognition from other major colonial associations, as evidenced by letters of support from the presidents of the Federazione Nazionale Combattenti, Profughi e Italiani d’Africa [FENPIA, National Federation of Veterans, Refugees and Italians of Africa], ANPAO and ANPL featured in the opening pages of the book. Additionally, a portion of the proceeds was intended to support impoverished Italian returnees from Africa, thus enhancing the popularity of the initiative. ⁴⁶

The essays, authored by well-known colonial figures (notably including general Guglielmo Nasi), ⁴⁷ portray Italy's colonial history as a civilizing endeavour of labour migration, whereas totally obliterating its often brutal and racist modus operandi. Particularly noteworthy is Piero Chiminelli's contribution, which imbues this discourse with a strong Catholic ethos. His extensive essay delves into the underlying motivations behind Italy's colonization of Eritrea, Libya, Somalia and Ethiopia, culminating in grandiloquent rhetoric:

The Italian colonisation in the four former colonies has been of the purest ideal and uplifting nature […] As Catholics, we know wonderfully well that every lineage […] must know how to give and receive in order to share all those gifts that, when combined, must form the wealth and glory of the better world of tomorrow. ⁴⁸

The book's essays avoid any public acknowledgment for colonial crimes, particularly those associated with the brutal occupation of Ethiopia and the subsequent racial segregation of the empire. ⁵⁰ In doing so, Italia e Africa aligned completely with the coeval efforts of the Comitato per la documentazione dell’opera dell’Italia in Africa [Committee for Documenting Italy's Activities in Africa], set up by the Ministry of Italian Africa via decree no. 140 of January 11, 1952. The Committee's goal was to showcase the positive activities in former African territories through a series of volumes covering historical, political, and scientific aspects of Italian colonialism. ⁵¹ The activities of the ANCRA thus actively contribute to the broader ‘conspiracy of silence’ regarding colonial atrocities. This silence is fully entangled in the broader de-responsibilization for fascist crimes occurring in postwar Italy, ⁵² possibly driven by a ‘feeling of shame or discomfort, an unwillingness to articulate repentance for deeds which one may not have done but which one had tolerated’. ⁵³ This paradigm appropriately characterizes the ambiguous remembrance of the imperial past under consideration, where the suppression and reinterpretation of the colonial era are intricately intertwined. Guglielmo Nasi's contribution is notable in this regard: in his essay he meticulously describes various agricultural, infrastructural and social projects implemented during the imperial rule, while only obliquely acknowledging the use of violence, which, according to him, was neither significant nor systematic. ⁵⁴

Italia e Africa achieved significant dissemination, with approximately 5.000 copies sold in 1950 only; it generated around 45.000.000 Lire in revenue by 1951. ⁵⁵ However, its success was marred by a fraudulent scheme involving the editor, Zeffiro Pacini, who misled about institutional support and misused proceeds. ⁵⁶ . Pacini persuaded Persichelli that a portion of the proceeds from the book Italia e Africa and postcards (up to 10 per cent) would be allocated to assist returnees. However, the book was printed and sold without proper oversight from ANCRA, and the generated revenues were not utilized for the intended purpose. ⁵⁷ For instance, Franca Facin, the head of the Neapolitan branch of the ANCRA, employed two young girls, Iole Matteucci and Clara Natalini, to sell the book door-to-door. They manipulated a credential letter issued by the prefecture of Napoli, selling the volume outside official channels, and thus failing to fulfil the promised revenue share to the ANCRA. ⁵⁸ This suggests that the opportunity to sell such products, and the resonance that colonial topics could still evoke in Italian society, appealed not only to returnees or sympathizers, but also to individuals seeking financial gain and easy money.

These reconstructions indicate how colonial themes, at least until the early 1950s, still garnered a peculiar attention and even emotional involvement in some sections of Italian society. ⁵⁹ The signing of the peace treaty in 1947 and the establishment of the Italian Trusteeship of Somalia (AFIS) in 1950 were expected to herald a significant change in Italy's position towards its African experience. The subsequent dissolution of the African Office (1953) and the political agreements with Ethiopia in 1956 and Libya in 1957 – which resolved most of the contentious issues related to Italy's invasion and occupation – along with the gradual decline in the relevance of colonial institutions, policies, and discourses, had the potential to contribute to this paradigm shift. However, it is important to note that the continuity of key personnel and administrative structures managing the Somali Trusteeship (until 1960) and some unresolved issues related to the aforementioned agreements with former colonies, along with the management of Italian communities in Africa and returning settlers in Italy, prolonged the twilight of the colonial era well beyond the formal end of the political presence in Africa. These lingering problems continued to resonate in both political and social debates. Against this backdrop, associations of colonial returnees reframed their agenda, intertwining nostalgic memories and appeals with the shifting political landscape of the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, characterized by increasing tension between conservative and progressive factions. ⁶⁰

At the beginning of the 1950s, the ANCRA was a vibrant association, boasting 15,000 members across various local branches. The association regularly organized meetings, masses, and events such as the fundraizing initiative organized by Guglielmo Nasi on 24 November 1953, aimed at assisting returnees’ children. However, this event appears to have been one of the ANCRA's final endeavours. According to some reports issued by the Home Office in 1955, in that year the association had shown ‘limited activity […] due to a lack of financial resources and the minimal involvement of its leaders’. ⁶¹ Reading between the lines of such reports uncovers a notable characteristic: the predominant conservative, and sometimes neo-fascist, background of many ANCRA members, a trait shared by a majority of colonial associations. Although not all members of these associations leaned far-right, the former settlers and their grievances became prominent targets of nationalist propaganda. ⁶²

The ANCRA was no exception: since its establishment in 1947, the association has frequently been described as ‘politically oriented towards the right’. ⁶³ Also the ANPA, another significant association perceived to be relatively moderate, experienced several neo-fascist infiltrations. ⁶⁴ For instance, members of the Palermo branch, particularly its executive board, were all affiliated with the neo-fascist Movimento Sociale Italiano [MSI, Italian Social Movement] and the Partito Nazionale Monarchico [Monarchic National Party]. ⁶⁵ The MSI sought to capitalize on the demands of Italian returnees, not just those from the former colonies. The establishment of the MSI's Associazione Rimpatriati dall’Estero [Association of Repatriates from Abroad] in 1953 should be read in this context. Its aim was to give voice to, and exploit, the several issues related to the return in the Peninsula of Italians who settled abroad. While this initiative lacked significant support, acknowledging it helps us comprehend some of the reasons behind the association of repatriates being dominated, almost exclusively, by right-wing factions. ⁶⁶

Several other associations were characterized by such a conservative, nationalist and strong anti-communist ethos. The Associazione Nazionale Italiani di Oltremare Rimpatriati dall’Estero e Sinistrati [ANIORES, National Association of Italians Overseas Repatriated from Abroad and Damaged] was supported by the Risveglio Nazionale Fronte Unico Anticomunista [National Awakening Anti-Communist United Front], and its vice-president, Ettore Rossi, also held the position of vice-secretary in the Italian National Party. ⁶⁷ Similarly, the Federazione Reduci d’Africa di Siena [Federation of Africa Veterans in Siena] was established with the specific objective of ‘removing as many veterans as possible from the Associazione Combattenti e Reduci [Association of Fighters and Veterans]’, which in that province was closely aligned with the directives of the Partito comunista italiano [PCI, Italian communist party]. ⁶⁸ This anti-communist stance was consistent with the escalation of political tension between the ruling, centre-right parties – particularly the Democrazia cristiana – and the PCI. This tension was also reflected in the attitude towards Italy's overseas experience and legacies. While the DC and other conservative forces maintained a relatively uncritical perspective on Italy's expansionism, the Italian socialist party and especially the PCI began openly supporting anti-colonial struggles worldwide. Furthermore, despite occasional reluctance and inconsistency, they also started to criticise the Italian presence in former colonies, notably in Somalia. ⁶⁹

The prevalent alignment of most groups and associations with a shared conservative and nationalist background, along with their convergence in aims and cultural practices, underscores another noteworthy characteristic of colonial associationism in Republican Italy: the modular and interchangeable nature of these associations. They operated not in isolation but in symbiosis, consistently sharing participants, ideas, and political objectives. They frequently mirrored each other's activities, often collaborating on events and publications. However, there were instances of rivalry and competition, such as the palpable tension observed between the FENPIA and the ANPA. ⁷⁰ A heated debate characterized the national assembly of the FENPIA, held in Reggio Calabria in February 1959, whose sessions were opened by Michele Barbaro, a senator from the MSI. The work of the assembly, however, led to a schism among some members who established a new association, the Unione Nazionale Combattenti, Profughi d’Africa e Italiani d’Oltremare [National Union of Veterans, Refugees from Africa, and Italians Overseas]. ⁷¹

This intricate landscape of colonial associationism underwent simplification starting from the early Sixties. The conclusion of the trusteeship in Somalia in July 1960, along with the incomplete turnover of members between older and newer generations and the declining interest of Italian society in the colonial past led to the disappearance of several small associations. A notable event occurred on 25 February 1961, with the establishment of the Associazione Nazionale Reduci d’Africa [ANRA, or ANRRA from the 1970s]. ⁷² It aimed to ‘unite all compatriots who have in any way carried out their activities in Africa under a single association’. ⁷³ Since the 1960s, ANRA has held yearly gatherings for its members across Italy, organized ‘pilgrimages’ to former colony sites, and played a key role in commemorating battles in North and East Africa where Italian troops fought in WWII. Additionally, it has published a quarterly journal, Il reduce d’Africa, featuring editorial comments on past Italian-influenced African regions, reflections on Italian rule, and testimonials from former settlers, soldiers, and officials of the former colonies. Therefore, since its establishment, the association has been serving as one of the most significant means for the dissemination of nostalgic recollections associated with the Italian empire.

Like many other similar groups, the ANRA's founding document declared the apolitical and non-religious nature of its activities. However, the allegiances of its members and the undertakings connected with the association often lean in the opposite direction, aligning with far right and hyper-conservative circles. For example, the ANRA national executive board consisted of fifteen members: in 1971, three of them were prominent members of the neo-fascist MSI (one of whom was indirectly involved in the failed putsch by Valerio Junio Borghese in 1970, and another was a significant member of the Italian Social Republic); two were former members of the dissolved National Monarchic Union, while five others were former high-ranking officials who had served in the Italian Army in Africa. ⁷⁴ Moreover, the strategic deployment of Catholic rituals and clergy to validate and confer a religious sense upon their endeavours has been a distinctive feature of the annual ANRA meetings. Conducted in various cities, these gatherings typically adhere to a standardized agenda, comprising the general assembly, tributes to local monuments commemorating fallen colonial soldiers, a mass commemorating Italian settlers and ‘martyrs’ who perished in Africa, and culminating in a social dinner. ⁷⁵

The summits held in Bergamo (1967) and Montecatini (1971) provide significant insights into the interplay between neo-fascist infiltrations, religious ethos, and a conflicting memorialization of the colonial past. In Bergamo, for instance, the local section of the ANRA, responsible for organizing the event, requested the city council to install a monument ‘in memory of the fallen of Africa in the “Campo della Rimembranza” of the Rocca di Bergamo Alta’, while also inviting Mayor Giacomo Pezzotta (DC) to attend the ceremony and other public events, such as the mass and the general assembly. ⁷⁶ However, the mayor deemed his presence inappropriate and declined to attend, also denying authorization for the installation of the memorial. This action was strongly condemned by the ANRA, particularly by some of its neo-fascist members affiliated with the MSI, who prepared placards protesting the mayor's absence and containing statements deemed defamatory against him. This led the mayor to file a lawsuit against the creators of the poster. Following the trial, Mirko Tremaglia, the secretary of the Bergamo section of the MSI and a member of the ANRA, was fined 200,000 Lire. ⁷⁷

The neo-fascist influence also permeated other gatherings, as evidenced by an incident during the tenth anniversary celebration of the ANRA in Montecatini. At the social dinner held on 28 June 1971, some members began singing the song Faccetta nera [Little Black Face], originally composed in 1935 to celebrate the imminent conquest of the Ethiopia by fascist troops. Since the 1950s, the song has evoked a sense of imperial nostalgia, particularly within certain right-wing circles, by harking back to the ‘good old days’ characterized by a virile and predatory interpretation of national ethos. The singing of this song during the ANRA dinner led to a heated dispute with other guests in the restaurant, who were not ANRA members. Police officers promptly intervened to resolve the situation. Following this incident, the local branch of the MSI erected posters throughout the city, portraying ANRA members as ‘fighters, pioneers, and colonists’ who contributed to the civilization of Africa. ⁷⁸

These last examples clearly show the extent to which the memories of the African past crafted by the colonial associations were re-articulated and injected in the political debate of the 1960s and the 1970s. This happened especially through the far-right forces that tried to take advantage from the biased recollection of the colonial past, by using it to consolidate their political consensus. In so doing, they situated their political allegiance against the backdrop of a self-constructed discourse about a positive experience of labour and civilization in Africa, by feeding yet also exploiting the activities of such associations. For their part, colonial groups and lobbies used such a politicization to keep the attention on their pleas alive.

This trend was particularly pronounced during the repatriation of thousands of settlers from Somalia (1969), Ethiopia (1974–75), and notably Libya (1970), all events that marked the final phase of Italy's protracted imperial end. ⁷⁹ These repatriation processes were catalysed by socialist uprisings in the former colonies: Siad Barre in Somalia (1969), Muammar Gaddafi in Libya (1969), and the DERG in Ethiopia (1974), albeit through different means, all implemented the nationalization of foreign properties and, directly or indirectly, compelled the remaining Italian colonial settlers to leave. Consequently, the expulsion of Italians – perceived as victims in Italian nationalist propaganda, consistently with the ‘civilizing mission’ narrative they had constructed since the 1940s – by socialist forces reignited the strong conservative and anti-communist discourse that characterized the majority of colonial associations.

Traces of the arrival of Italian settlers from Somalia are evident in the activities of the Turin section of the ANRA, which assisted approximately 2,000 individuals suddenly deprived of their belongings and means of subsistence. ⁸⁰ The assistance to former settlers from Somalia mirrored the support given to Italian–Libyan refugees, although the latter group was significantly larger (about 20.000 returnees) and had a greater impact. ⁸¹ For the Italo-Libyans, the forced return to Italy proved to be challenging: unlike the situation in the 1940s, they were now regarded as ‘emigrants’ rather than ‘refugees’, resulting in no special protection under national and international law. Furthermore, in the early 1970s, a certain section of the left-wing press often portrayed them as an uncomfortable legacy of Italy's fascist colonial past. ⁸² The Libyan government's stance aligned with this position. In a message to the Italian Foreign Minister Aldo Moro, the Libyan revolutionary government expressed that the actions against Italian citizens aimed to ‘eliminate the remnants of the colonial past’. ⁸³

Newspaper like Il Messaggero and La Stampa highlighted the difficult circumstances – such as overcrowding, poor hygiene, and inadequate health conditions – faced by the returnees upon their arrival, for which the public authorities were ill-prepared. Refugees would have encountered serious difficulties in settling in, also due to the fact that local unemployed individuals violently protested against them and local authorities for favouring the employment of a group of refugees in some Neapolitan industries. ⁸⁴ The same problems were reported by Il Corriere della sera, which also highlighted that the situation was growing increasingly precarious, with far-right forces capitalizing on this discontent to attack the government's management of the issue: ⁸⁵ members of the MSI immediately reached out to former settlers as soon as they arrived in Italy, visiting them at the hotels where they were temporarily accommodated (e.g., the Hotel Columbus in Teano, the Hotel Traiano and the Pensione Claudia in Rome, and the Hotel Mediterraneo in Caserta). ⁸⁶

The problematic issue of receiving a significant number of returnees, coupled with their claims for lost properties in Libya, spurred a new wave of associationism. An impactful initiative was undertaken by the Associazione Nazionale Italiani Rimpatriati dalla Libia [ANIRL, National Association of Italians Repatriated from Libya], which orchestrated a march in Rome on 15 September 1970, culminating in front of the Italian Parliament, to draw attention to their plight. Approximately 500 people participated in the event. ⁸⁷ Some months later, the first ANIRL national congress took place in Rome (on 8 and 9 May 1971). In their invitation letters to various ministries, they emphasized the need for job opportunities for former settlers and the ‘categorical imperative of compensation’ for their losses resulting from Gaddafi's nationalizations. ⁸⁸ Although some measures were implemented ­– like Law n. 1066 (December 1971), which offered a first, yet partial, form of compensation to the returned former settlers – they were considered wholly inadequate by the returnees. As a result, a new association, the Associazione Italiani Rimpatriati dalla Libia [AIRL, Italian Association of Repatriated from Libya], emerged in 1972 from the ashes of previous groups. Since then, AIRL has served as a focal point for the nostalgic recollection of the Italo-Libyan past and has engaged in lobbying activities targeting political forces, particularly the Democrazia Cristiana. ⁸⁹

A similar trajectory has affected the Associazione Profughi dall’Etiopia [APE, Association of Refugees from Ethiopia], which brought together the few thousand returnees from the former Italian colonies of Ethiopia and Eritrea. In September 1974, Emperor Haile Selassie was dethroned by a socialist, Soviet-supported junta (the DERG), sparking a period of brutal repression known as the Qey Shibir [Red Terror]. ⁹⁰ The economic and political uncertainty resulting from the socialist revolution and the nationalization of foreign property compelled most Italians to leave the country. ⁹¹ The APE was led by Arturo Mezzedimi, an Italian architect who stood out among the Italians who remained in the Horn of Africa after World War II. ⁹² Following his return to Italy, Mezzedimi founded the association on 29 April 1975, with the ambition of ‘safeguarding Italian interests in Ethiopia and assisting both the refugees who returned to the Peninsula and those Italians who chose to remain in the Horn of Africa’. ⁹³ The APE led the legal dispute through which refugees sought compensation from the Italian government for what they were compelled to leave behind in Ethiopia and Eritrea. They also advocated for the implementation of legal measures aimed at facilitating their integration into the economic and social life of Italy. Furthermore, the APE has played a leading role in establishing a ‘Coordination Committee among various Associations of refugees from African countries formerly under Italian administration, as well as those from third countries’. This initiative aimed to advance, within parliamentary and other contexts, initiatives of broad relevance to the refugee community. Importantly, it seeks to do so with a collective influence exceeding that of any individual association. ⁹⁴ This lobbying effort resulted in the adoption of some Laws (n. 763, 26 December 1981; n. 135, 5 April 1985), which provided a partial means of compensation and assistance to Italians who had returned from Africa in the 1970s.

Organizations like ANRRA, AIRL and APE, through their advocacy for compensation for their losses during their forced expulsion from Libya and Ethiopia, have contributed to a biased remembrance of the African past, whose significance extends until nowadays. Numerous examples illustrate the enduring interconnection between colonial memories, their politicization and Catholic rituals. For instance, on May 4, 1983, Pope John Paul II solemnly approved a fundraising initiative launched some years earlier by the newspaper Il Tempo and ANRRA ⁹⁵ with the following words:

A warm greeting I extend to the members of the Comitato Onoranze ai Caduti d’Africa [Committee of Honors to the Fallen of Africa], who have sponsored, among other things, the casting of the bell, named ‘L’Africana’; this will be placed on the tower of the castle-church of Santa Severa, and will commemorate all the Italian victims in Africa: soldiers, missionaries, nuns, civilians. In expressing sincere appreciation for this touching initiative of peace and Christian solidarity, it is my pleasure to personally bless this bell, which with its tolls will invite everyone to pray for the eternal rest of our departed brothers. ⁹⁶

These last examples, along with the various events, publications and activities that I mentioned in this article, demonstrate how a positive and unproblematic narrative around the African experience has been constructed and re-articulated through various decades. All these initiatives constitute a constellation reflecting the struggle against forgetting by these nostalgic groups, as part of the process of mourning for the inevitable end of the imperial era and status. ¹⁰⁰ However, in this reconstruction, we have not merely observed the construction of nostalgic recollections concerning the colonial past, but also its integration into the broader national and global reassessment following WWII and political decolonizations. We have dealt with the active reproduction and enactment of that experience by individuals who, whether directly involved in the establishment of the empire or not, were or are deeply implicated in re-articulating the ideological structures upon which the empire depended. These structures persist in altered and concealed forms of (post)memory in contemporary times: ¹⁰¹ the shared colonial experience and the ‘trauma’ of forced repatriation have united both older and newer generations of returnees, along with individuals perhaps not directly involved in colonial policies but nostalgic for their ideological and material arrangement, and in some cases, for the fascist regime that boosted the imperial agenda. Therefore, the politically-informed and nostalgic remembrance of the ‘good old days’ in Africa has become a useful political resource for conservative and far-right forces seeking legitimacy and respectability in the Italian political landscape. This does not imply that the positive interpretation of the colonial past was confined to, or exclusively supported by, neo-fascist, monarchist, and conservative circles. Rather, the narrative of Italians as benevolent colonizers cut across various political ideologies, enabling these forces to sway public opinion by framing it as an emotional and identity-based issue.

Although this ‘fight against forgetting’ initially aligned with the efforts and politics of memory implemented by postwar governments in the immediate aftermath of WWII, it began to lose relevance from the 1960s onward and was no longer endorsed by the majority of political forces or public opinion. Additionally, during this period, military and colonial archives were finally opened, leading historians such as Angelo Del Boca, Giorgio Rochat, Alberto Sbacchi, and Richard Pankhurst to openly question the assumption of Italy's benevolent impact in Africa. ¹⁰² Colonial nostalgic groups have countered such a historiographical shift with narratives infused with personal recollections. They focussed on the reviving of the traumas they endured upon being compelled to depart from their newly-independent African environment – an idealized realm they juxtaposed with the ostensibly ‘ungrateful’ homeland to which they returned. The sense of ‘victimhood was the underlying emotion’ that has structured their mnemonic and social practices. ¹⁰³ Consequently, in Italy like in other Western countries, the ‘settlers’ national imagining continued to seep back to the metropole’, ¹⁰⁴ shaping perceptions of the colonial past while tackling ongoing issues related to their status and their perspective on the world.

In their efforts to preserve their memories against the backdrop of growing academic and political critiques of colonialism, nostalgic groups have meticulously crafted and safeguarded their history. This history has been ‘sanctified’ in their rituals, often conflating and drawing upon images and metaphors from Catholic symbolism. In this regard, we have encountered a ‘Catho-nostalgic’ form of colonial memory. It derives from civil religion, aiming to instil political values and rituals within a specific group of members, akin to similar experiences among returnees in Italy as well as other former metropolitan centres. ¹⁰⁵ However, the practices associated with colonial memory have deeply intertwined with Catholic ethos and imagery. This connection not only conveys an eschatological dimension to the political commitment of individual members and of the group, but also blurs the boundary between Catholic rituals and the recollection of the ‘civilizing mission’. In so doing, it aims to resonate with the widespread Catholic background of the majority of Italians. Furthermore, on a more political level, the Catho-nostalgic trait of Italian colonial memory exacerbated the clash between pro and anti-colonial forces. The former aligned to conservative, nationalist and Christian inspired parties whereas the latter associated to progressive, socialist and communist ones. This dynamic has remained consistent with the dichotomy characterizing the political landscape of postwar Italy and of the Prima Repubblica and persists to this day. Despite being thoroughly contrasted by a consolidated historiographical tradition, the memorialization of the colonial past thus remains a ‘battlefield’. ¹⁰⁶ It is from this perspective that this intervention has proposed a comprehensive reassessment of the enduring effects of the imperial past in contemporary Italy, contending that memories of the fascist regime's lost empire have not been erased or repressed, but rather have remained visible for decades, deeply embedded in the political and social fabric of the Republican era.