Italy, the 80th anniversary of the wonderful 1941
Toh, we forgot about it, a bit caught up in the pandemic psychosis that occupies every single ganglion of the defied brain of the new Italiots in orbace Draghistano: this year, OHIBÒ, the eighty-year anniversary of the wonderful 1941 falls. Yes, precisely 1941 : un annus mirabilis which is not just the title of a brilliant and somewhat forgotten film success by Steven Spielberg with John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd And Toshiro Mifune (1941 – Alarm in Hollywood), but above all the year (and even this not even the least defied ones remember it) of the great Mussolini illusion, obviously followed by the great precipitation of the events that led to the trauma of the Italian defeat.
And that’s exactly how it went. Mussolini in his paranoid delirium of pursuit of an impossible European hegemony, still drunk with another illusion, that of being the master of the now ruling Adolf Hitler, he invents an ideona. Knowing that he cannot compete with the Germans from any point of view, politic, military, social, economic and not even in the ideological fanaticism of a people too different from the hypermilitarists Crucchi, dragged by his own pupil into a war that he would have preferred to avoid in a minimum residual sense of reality, Mussolini decides (after the famous months of “non-belligerence”) to drag the Italietta in the second World War, but trying a so-called “parallel warfare“, in autonomy, indeed even in neutral as surrealist competition with the Germans. So, in a nutshell, while the Germans crush Poland And France and give battle to the British on the coasts of the Channel between Panzer and Spitfire, the Italians develop autonomous offensives in the south of France, in Africa and in Greece, with mini-tanks of tolla, obsolete biplanes and with a level of stupidity that will soon amaze the world.
Always in epitome sum: immediately took resounding blows from the French mountain troops on the Alpine and Provençal front and conquered on the fly (but for substantial withdrawal of the British) British Somalia, the Italian offensive in North Africa ends in a disaster of epic dimensions. The marshal Rodolfo Graziani, strong of an army in Libya As numerous as it is backward, it sets foot in Egypt and then is literally defeated by the much more technically armed counter-offensive of the English general Archibald Wavell, who comes to threaten the fall of Tripoli, first forcing a recalcitrant Adolf Hitler to design a SPERRVERBAND, or a special unit barrage, and then to create and send none other than a small custom-made army, namely the DAK (Deutsches Afrikakorps) of Erwin Rommel, to overturn the already lost fortunes of the African sector. Worse figure makes then Mussolini in front of the world, and surtout in front of the apprentice sorcerer former Austrian corporal (so much better than the Romagna master), treacherously attacking Greece, a country already ruled by a pseudofascist dictatorship (pro-Italian too) and succeeding in the masterpiece of being rejected from the Greeks with heavy losses and without any possibility of reversal of the result, up to a new, very rapid and decisive intervention also in Greece by the Germans, at the maximum of their military drive and their bellicist enamel. With the Greece At that point the Yugoslav question opens, in order to have all the Balkans under control, and here too Wehrmacht he promptly intervenes where the Royal Army, Air Force and Navy are unable to, liquidating and dismembering the Yugoslav kingdom, with the establishment of puppet states such as the Croatian one, ruled by a sinister squadron, the Bosnian Ante Pavelic. At that point, Mussolini’s Italy, now totally disqualified in the eyes of the German military leaders even before the British, finds itself in spite of itself having as a gift what it would never have hoped for even by conquering it: not only control of Greece, but also of great part of the Yugoslavia, even with the direct annexation of parts of Slovenia and Dalmatia (historically already Italian, but this is another question), thus reaching (on paper) its maximum territorial extension. Or rather almost reaching it, due to a singular coincidence in time: the date of 6 April 1941, the date on which the Italian and German troops invade the Balkans and the date on which the Italian troops abandon Addis Ababa to the British, losing de facto theEthiopia. However, on that April 6 in Italy the Press and the journalons, as Marco Travaglio calls them today (or the so-called “serious” newspapers: The Corriere della Sera, The Press, The Nation, The Messenger, The Morning, just to name the major ones), as well as the EIAR State Radio andINSTITUTE OF LIGHT with his newsreels, coincidentally they do not describe the defeats, but only the victories (of others), while the Italian flags apparently fly over almost the entire Mediterranean (in non-strategic sites; those are held by the Germans). Also the German-Italian troops in Africa replaced Graziani with an equally useless general with the thunderous name of Italo Gariboldi (immediately de facto ousted by the highly galvanized Rommel) they are preparing for the new offensive, first reconquering Cyrenaica and then going up to Tobruk, again almost on the Italian-Egyptian border. And here the enthusiasm of the Italian public opinion is reduced, they are incredibly still on the side of the neurotic bubble that describes as flamboyant successes the victories of Pyrrhus or the generalized defeats, and the Italiots with twenty years of fascist brainwashing are still in a a consistent majority applauding a Duce who was already less swollen-chested for the humiliations he suffered, but still bold in his chesty appearance. Despite the rumors that are spreading everywhere, heralded by the press organs under intense propaganda, the consent of the populace (but above all of the idiotic ruling classes as only in Italy and Germany it is possible to have, historically) seems to mean, and in a loud voice: BUT you don’t see the successes everywhere (?!?) While the Army, Air Force and Navy are slowly crumbling together with the Italian company, to begin that suicide race at the landing of an 8 September 1943 still very far away, but already visible to the less morons. Yet the forces ofRome-Berlin-Tokyo axis in 1941 they are victorious on all world fronts, and the Allies collect significant victories but also heavy defeats everywhere. Almost everywhere, because the reality behind the scenes is quite different, and from the beginning something did not work in the second great war unleashed by the Huns. They have not calculated that not everyone is willing to bow to Italian-German totalitarianism, especially not everyone in the Anglo-Saxon world, despite the fact that even in England and the United States a collaborationist and even pro-Nazi-fascist party was very close to the levers of power in London and Washington. And although at some point the British Empire will be alone and on the verge of collapse, in what will be remembered as “the darkest hour”. It is not just a question of military and geostrategic power, but above all of mentality. And this since the thirties, because the temporal progression is important: wanting to symbolically start the timer of the war device starting from 1938, the year in which the true and openly massacre facies of the Nazi-fascist become irremediably clear, not only the Italians, but all Europe will suffer eight years of tragedy, starting with the escalation of tension and then of full-blown and devastating war.
So what does this little parable teach about this ephemeral success of a papier-mâché Italiuccia easygoing, fascist and sad, pompous and grim as his dropsy and priapistic black-clad dictator? He teaches, at least to the less synaptically disabled, that it takes just a few years of BALLE of the most sordid regime propaganda, (even a little in the magic power style of the LOST ARK, just to quote Spielberg), to prepare the stoned of a population and then to bring it to the paroxysm of self-defeating idiot with its own applause, to the rubble of an entire society, of an entire world.
And basically there is no need to go back to 1941. We still remember Silvio Berlusconi he was born in “New Italian miracle“and his rival-for-pretend-and-for-real Romano Prodi with his “with the Euro we will work one day less earning as if we worked one day more”?
Draghi, Italy and the Economist’s praise
It was only a few years ago, and we’ve already forgotten about it. Maybe not all of us forgot it eh. Just as we will not forget the words ofEconomist, the English financial magazine, which now describes Italy as “country of the year” e Mario Draghi as “a competent and internationally respected premier with a majority that has buried differences in support of a program of profound reforms”. Eh, if the British say so, who are the ones who oppose totalitarianism, it will be true. It is a pity that not even the English, and not even in the figures of their authentic national heroes, have ever understood a most blessed stone of Italy, a country certainly at the highest degree of incomprehensibility ab ovo for Italians, let alone for the perfidious albions.
In cauda venenum we do this; in addition toEconomist let us also remember the winged words of two prestigious characters, certainly not accused of being idiots, but not even of being IPSE DIXIT (as the Economist will be, for heaven’s sake, we do not allow ourselves to doubt it). In 1927 Mussolini received Winston Churchill to Palazzo Chigi; a Churchill who was then minister of finance in the British government. On that occasion Churchill declared to the Press:
“… it is perfectly absurd to declare that the Italian government does not rest on a popular basis or that it is not supported by the active and practical consensus of the great masses …”. And on Benito he added: “… it is easy to realize that his only thought is the lasting well-being of the Italian people …” In those same days George Bernard Shaw, Nobel prize for literature in 1925, perhaps with greater acumen, he wrote on Daily Mail: “… the people were so tired of parliamentary indiscipline and emptiness that they felt the need for an effective tyranny. The honorable Mussolini is your beloved tyrant”.
It is really true that lies don’t have short legs; they have very long instead. And perhaps, in many years, those long legs will once again lead us to further defeat, and perhaps even to the consequent defeat of the beloved tyrants. Also this time we will not be alone, in the probable fall, for very meager consolation.
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