Soldiers of the Italian army beside a bust of Mussolini in Ethiopia, in 1934. (Photograph: Hulton-Deutsch Collection/CORBIS)
By Maaza Mengiste
Last week in Rome three mannequins doused in fake blood were discovered in front of a municipal building ahead of a visit from Italy’s first black minister, Cécile Kyenge. Flyers scattered around the area declared: “Immigration is the genocide of peoples. Kyenge resign!” This is only the latest in a succession of shocking attacks and threats since Kyenge took office in April. She’s been compared to an orangutan by a former government minister; likened to a prostitute by a deputy mayor; and had bananas thrown at her while making a speech.
Her appointment has not only shed light on the country’s problems with racial tolerance, it has begun to strip away at the Italian stereotype: Italians are friendly and kind, love to laugh, and enjoy the good life. They are, after all, more Mediterranean than European, a bit disorganised, but more likely to welcome you with open arms than insult or threaten you. It is a concept that goes by the term Italiani brava gente: “Italians are decent people”. It was this idea that drew me to Italy as the subject for my new book. It ran counter to the experiences of my grandfather and his generation, who fought against the Fascist invasion of Ethiopia and endured a five-year Italian occupation. That contradiction took me to Rome, where I lived for an extended time, and where I researched Italy’s colonial-era archives.
Read more at The Guardian.
—
Join the conversation on Twitter and Facebook.
