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ITALY: What Says the King?

5 minute read
TIME

Two tired old men met last week in a three-story, brindle-yellow villa at an obscure and dirty Italian town. The men were King Vittorio Emanuele, who is 74 and has ruled for 43 years, and Marshal Pietro Badoglio, who is 72 and has been his King’s most obedient follower. The question they met to discuss was whether the King should abdicate, or the Marshal should resign as the head of what passes currently for the Italian Government.

Orange marigolds flirted in a brittle wind. Between the villa, a tennis court and an ancient castle, bougainvillea sprawled purple over faded garden walls. Carabinieri in tricorn hats, Italian sailors in blue woolens guarded the villa. By the grace of the U.S. and Britain, the King and the Marshal held power in four of the liberated provinces ‘in Apulia, the heel of Italy.* Given power by the Allies, they were no more than puppets charged with the task of fashioning a government that would cause the Allies no trouble, and, incidentally, provide stability until all Italy is liberated.

The King’s Men. The King of Italy is a small man with a Savoy chin, a fat income, an unfortunate record, and the backing of constitutionality as interpreted by the Allied military mission which operates in the present “capital” of Italy. Badoglio has the stocky build of a peasant, the twinkling blue eyes of Northern Italy, a soldier’s sense of duty and the current sympathy of U.S. and British military men and diplomats.

The Allied mission is headed by steel-grey Lieut. General F. N. Mason-MacFar-lane (“Mason Mac”), Governor of Gibraltar; its Chief of Staff is 42-year-old U.S. Brigadier General Maxwell D. Taylor. The mission, the King and Badoglio all profess to have Italy’s best interests at heart, but insist that their actions be judged first by the immediate necessity of driving out the Germans. Their joint plan is to broaden the flimsy base of the Badoglio Government by including in it the top leadership of the six political parties which have survived or sprung up in the wake of the German retreat.

The King’s Messenger. There is humor in Badoglio, a nostalgia for the past days of “glory” in the Italian campaign against Ethiopia, and a well-meaning sincerity. He usually speaks in Italian, although he knows French and a little English. Recently he flew to Naples to invite new strength into his Government. Particularly, he asked bearded, 70-year-old Count Carlo Sforza, who had returned to Italy after 16 years of exile, and the potbellied, stubby-haired philosopher and elder statesman, 77-year-old Benedetto Croce, to join with him.

For himself and for Croce, Sforza indicated a willingness to join the Government—but only if the King were thrown out. A Regency which skipped Crown Prince Umberto and alighted on the six-year-old Prince of Naples might be acceptable, he said, pending the day when all of Italy could decide on a monarchical or republican government. But what the beaten and heartsick people of Italy needed most of all, said Sforza, was at least one dynamic and truly democratic act that would fan the flames of hope and national pride. That act, he plainly implied, was abdication.

Badoglio was turned down by Sforza, by Croce, and by Dr. Orangio Ruiz, chairman of the Fronte Nazionale di Liberazione, which includes the six patriot and “opposition” parties. The meaning seemed clear: the King must go. That was the Marshal’s message when he returned to the King’s villa.

The King’s Hope. Last week correspondents in Naples reported that the Allies—with some help from the King—may have saved Vittorio Emanuele for the time being. Shaken by war and defeat, stained by Fascism and alliance with Hitler, the King suddenly visited Naples. Street crowds ganged around his open car, cheered him lustily, made many wonder whether his appeal to the masses of Italy had been underestimated. Next day, on the 28th anniversary of Italy’s armistice with Austria in World War I, some 2,000 Neapolitan students chanted “Away with the King!”, cheered speakers who denounced the monarchy’s ties to Fascism. Still unanswered was the large question: Could Vittorio Emanuele III keep his crown?

Manifestly annoyed by the King’s disruption of occupation routine, Allied authorities were thankful when he thereafter remained indoors. They announced the dismissal of “several hundred” Fascist officials in Naples, otherwise forwarded the scrubbing of Italy’s Fascist face. But the consensus in Naples at week’s end was that the cleanup, at least for the duration, would probably not extend to Vittorio Emanuele.

*Occupied Italy is under two regimes. The departments of Calabria, Lucania and Campania—the toe and ankle of the Italian boot—are administered by Italian officials responsible to the Allied Military Government. The Apulian provinces of Lecce, Brindisi, Bari and Foggia—the Adriatic heel of the boot—are ruled directly by the Badoglio Government.

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