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The Civic Foundations of Fascism in Europe
Dylan Riley reconceptualizes the nature and origins of interwar fascism in this remarkable investigation of the connection between civil society and authoritarianism.
From the late nineteenth century to World War I, voluntary associations exploded across Europe, especially among rural non-elites. But the development of this "civil society" did not produce liberal democracy in Italy, Spain, and Romania. Instead, Riley finds that it undermined the nascent liberal regimes in these countries and was a central cause of the rise of fascism. Developing an original synthesis of Gramsci and Tocqueville, Riley explains this surprising outcome by arguing that the development of political organizations in the three nations failed to keep pace with the proliferation of voluntary associations, leading to a crisis of political representation to which fascism developed as a response. His argument shows how different forms of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania arose in response to the divergent paths taken by civil society development in each nation.
Presenting the seemingly paradoxical argument that the rapid development of civil society facilitated the rise of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania, Riley credibly challenges the notion that a strong civil society necessarily leads to the development of liberal democracy. Scholars and students interested in debates about the rise of fascism and authoritarianism, democratization, civil society, and comparative and historical methods will find his arguments compelling and his conclusions challenging.
From the late nineteenth century to World War I, voluntary associations exploded across Europe, especially among rural non-elites. But the development of this "civil society" did not produce liberal democracy in Italy, Spain, and Romania. Instead, Riley finds that it undermined the nascent liberal regimes in these countries and was a central cause of the rise of fascism. Developing an original synthesis of Gramsci and Tocqueville, Riley explains this surprising outcome by arguing that the development of political organizations in the three nations failed to keep pace with the proliferation of voluntary associations, leading to a crisis of political representation to which fascism developed as a response. His argument shows how different forms of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania arose in response to the divergent paths taken by civil society development in each nation.
Presenting the seemingly paradoxical argument that the rapid development of civil society facilitated the rise of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania, Riley credibly challenges the notion that a strong civil society necessarily leads to the development of liberal democracy. Scholars and students interested in debates about the rise of fascism and authoritarianism, democratization, civil society, and comparative and historical methods will find his arguments compelling and his conclusions challenging.
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 25, 2010
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About the author
Dylan Riley
12 books13 followersDylan Riley is Professor of Sociology at the University of California, Berkeley, and is on the editorial committee of New Left Review.
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June 5, 2019
Fascism as the result of an inadequate rate of return of investments in a context of parliamentary democracy
In the second version of the argument, closely associated with Trotsky, fascism appears as an open dictatorship of capital in decline. As Ernest Mandel points out while summarizing Trotsky’s view, “fascism is a product of a severe crisis of monopoly capitalism … in which the normal valorization of capital under conditions of bourgeois democracy is being increasingly undermined.” From this perspective, the problem is not that capitalism is underdeveloped, but that it can no longer achieve an adequate rate of return for its investments in a context of parliamentary democracy. Fascism thus represents an alliance between heavy industry and the state in the imperialist search for markets and resources to shore up sagging rates of profit.
Fascism as a demand for a profound renewal of political institutions
Trump, (and even more so) Mussolini and Hitler are commonly presented as “antidemocratic” leaders. That is a profound mistake. In fact, these leaders arose, both in the thirties and today, by articulating a demand for a profound renewal of political institutions that would render the state more responsive to the populace than it had been previously. Their rise to power is closely linked to the political left’s failure to fully embrace a plausible project of democratization in both cases, but for very different reasons. The key task for the left is to lead a democratic revolution while avoiding the technocratic project of “defending existing institutions,” which are to a large degree antidemocratic.
Fascism as a product of civil society development
Civil society development facilitated the emergence of fascism, rather than liberal democracy, in interwar Italy, Spain, and Romania because it preceded, rather than followed, the establishment of strong political organizations (hegemonic politics) among both dominant classes and nonelites. The development of voluntary associations in these countries tended to promote democracy, as it did elsewhere. But in the absence of adequate political institutions, this democratic demand assumed a paradoxically antiliberal and authoritarian form: a technocratic rejection of politics as such. Fascist movements and regimes grew out of this general crisis of politics, a crisis that itself was a product of civil society development.
Fascism as a distinctive rejection of politics as such
The fundamental basis of the fascist claim to legitimacy lay in the belief that fascism offered a superior way of connecting the population to the state in modern economic and social conditions. In short, fascist regimes not only claimed popular legitimacy, they constructed institutions conceived specifically as alternatives to electoral democracy. […] Fascists held that elections, parliaments, and discussion about public affairs—in short, the stuff of politics—were incapable of constituting and representing a “general will.” They therefore attempted to replace political struggle, and representative institutions, with a form of nonpolitical interest representation. In this sense fascist regimes were never exactly rightist or leftist; they represented instead a distinctive rejection of politics as such.
How does hegemony form?
For Gramsci this is mostly a “top-down” process. Hegemonic relationships first develop among particular fractions of the social elite or dominant classes and then spread outward and downward. It is useful, I think, to schematize these developments in terms of three interrelated stages of hegemonic development: intraclass hegemony, interclass hegemony, and counterhegemony. Intraclass hegemony refers to the process by which a particular class coalesces politically around a project of social transformation usually associated with a particular class fraction. Interclass hegemony refers to the process by which this project expands to include groups outside the class core of the initial hegemonic project. Counterhegemony refers to the process by which groups outside the hegemonic alliance attempt to develop an alternative hegemonic project. Each stage of hegemonic development shapes subsequent stages.
The combined and uneven development of civil society and hegemony
In this context the democratic demands of civil society tend to develop against the regime of political parties and are often expressed as skepticism about all forms of political representation. Fascism, then, develops out of this general crisis of politics. Fascist movements are well adapted to such situations because they claim to transcend the political. These movements are therefore perfectly positioned to exploit the crisis of political representation caused by a situation of civil society overdevelopment in relationship to hegemony. Fascism, a political project aiming to establish a new relationship between the nation and the state, can be expected to emerge where social elites fail to develop hegemonic political organizations in the context of rapid civil society development. The fascist political project arises as an attempt to redress this problem of hegemonic weakness by creating an authoritarian democracy: a regime that claims to represent the people or nation but rejects parliamentary institutional forms. Rather than being connected to a specific stage of economic development, or a specific state form, fascism must be understood as the result of a political crisis rooted in the combined and uneven development of civil society and hegemony.
The emergency of fascism as a result of liberalism’s failure to represent people
Fascist movements were generally democratic movements in this sense, and their attacks on liberalism derived from their democratic character. Fascist movements promised not less responsive, less representative political organizations but more responsive, more representative organizations than had existed in the preceding liberal period. Given that fascist movements shared much with other democratic movements, it becomes much less surprising that they seem to have benefited from developed civil societies. Like socialism, Catholicism, and peasantism, fascist movements did well where populations were organized, where traditions of social solidarity were strong, and where people participated in the political process.
Under what political conditions is associational development compatible with liberal rule?
Where politics is not sufficiently autonomous from social interests, where there do not exist organizations that provide a clear national program, voters cannot see any relationship between their preferences and government. Coalition governments made up of many parties pursuing narrow interests do not provide an adequate substitute, because they are not elected as governments. Instead, they form in parliament after elections. The absence of well-structured parties thus lent great plausibility to the fascist critique of liberalism. One of the main targets of fascist criticism in all three of the major cases examined in this book was the “political class.” Fascists rejected the idea of political interest representation through votes, because in the specific political conditions in which they operated such mechanisms of interest representation did not work. The political circumstances immediately prior to the rise of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania show this clearly; in each of these countries the political problem was not so much a high level of polarization between the left and the right as it was political disorganization. This political fact produced, understandably, the widespread view that voting and parliamentary debate had little or nothing to do with democracy in the sense of the rule of the people. The above analysis, then, while not addressing the connection between civil society and liberal democracy, suggests a new way of thinking about their relationship. Perhaps the central question is, under what political conditions is associational development compatible with liberal rule? In fact, from the perspective of this book, their coincidence no longer appears obvious but imposes itself instead as a problem. To resolve it is the task of another book.
In the second version of the argument, closely associated with Trotsky, fascism appears as an open dictatorship of capital in decline. As Ernest Mandel points out while summarizing Trotsky’s view, “fascism is a product of a severe crisis of monopoly capitalism … in which the normal valorization of capital under conditions of bourgeois democracy is being increasingly undermined.” From this perspective, the problem is not that capitalism is underdeveloped, but that it can no longer achieve an adequate rate of return for its investments in a context of parliamentary democracy. Fascism thus represents an alliance between heavy industry and the state in the imperialist search for markets and resources to shore up sagging rates of profit.
Fascism as a demand for a profound renewal of political institutions
Trump, (and even more so) Mussolini and Hitler are commonly presented as “antidemocratic” leaders. That is a profound mistake. In fact, these leaders arose, both in the thirties and today, by articulating a demand for a profound renewal of political institutions that would render the state more responsive to the populace than it had been previously. Their rise to power is closely linked to the political left’s failure to fully embrace a plausible project of democratization in both cases, but for very different reasons. The key task for the left is to lead a democratic revolution while avoiding the technocratic project of “defending existing institutions,” which are to a large degree antidemocratic.
Fascism as a product of civil society development
Civil society development facilitated the emergence of fascism, rather than liberal democracy, in interwar Italy, Spain, and Romania because it preceded, rather than followed, the establishment of strong political organizations (hegemonic politics) among both dominant classes and nonelites. The development of voluntary associations in these countries tended to promote democracy, as it did elsewhere. But in the absence of adequate political institutions, this democratic demand assumed a paradoxically antiliberal and authoritarian form: a technocratic rejection of politics as such. Fascist movements and regimes grew out of this general crisis of politics, a crisis that itself was a product of civil society development.
Fascism as a distinctive rejection of politics as such
The fundamental basis of the fascist claim to legitimacy lay in the belief that fascism offered a superior way of connecting the population to the state in modern economic and social conditions. In short, fascist regimes not only claimed popular legitimacy, they constructed institutions conceived specifically as alternatives to electoral democracy. […] Fascists held that elections, parliaments, and discussion about public affairs—in short, the stuff of politics—were incapable of constituting and representing a “general will.” They therefore attempted to replace political struggle, and representative institutions, with a form of nonpolitical interest representation. In this sense fascist regimes were never exactly rightist or leftist; they represented instead a distinctive rejection of politics as such.
How does hegemony form?
For Gramsci this is mostly a “top-down” process. Hegemonic relationships first develop among particular fractions of the social elite or dominant classes and then spread outward and downward. It is useful, I think, to schematize these developments in terms of three interrelated stages of hegemonic development: intraclass hegemony, interclass hegemony, and counterhegemony. Intraclass hegemony refers to the process by which a particular class coalesces politically around a project of social transformation usually associated with a particular class fraction. Interclass hegemony refers to the process by which this project expands to include groups outside the class core of the initial hegemonic project. Counterhegemony refers to the process by which groups outside the hegemonic alliance attempt to develop an alternative hegemonic project. Each stage of hegemonic development shapes subsequent stages.
The combined and uneven development of civil society and hegemony
In this context the democratic demands of civil society tend to develop against the regime of political parties and are often expressed as skepticism about all forms of political representation. Fascism, then, develops out of this general crisis of politics. Fascist movements are well adapted to such situations because they claim to transcend the political. These movements are therefore perfectly positioned to exploit the crisis of political representation caused by a situation of civil society overdevelopment in relationship to hegemony. Fascism, a political project aiming to establish a new relationship between the nation and the state, can be expected to emerge where social elites fail to develop hegemonic political organizations in the context of rapid civil society development. The fascist political project arises as an attempt to redress this problem of hegemonic weakness by creating an authoritarian democracy: a regime that claims to represent the people or nation but rejects parliamentary institutional forms. Rather than being connected to a specific stage of economic development, or a specific state form, fascism must be understood as the result of a political crisis rooted in the combined and uneven development of civil society and hegemony.
The emergency of fascism as a result of liberalism’s failure to represent people
Fascist movements were generally democratic movements in this sense, and their attacks on liberalism derived from their democratic character. Fascist movements promised not less responsive, less representative political organizations but more responsive, more representative organizations than had existed in the preceding liberal period. Given that fascist movements shared much with other democratic movements, it becomes much less surprising that they seem to have benefited from developed civil societies. Like socialism, Catholicism, and peasantism, fascist movements did well where populations were organized, where traditions of social solidarity were strong, and where people participated in the political process.
Under what political conditions is associational development compatible with liberal rule?
Where politics is not sufficiently autonomous from social interests, where there do not exist organizations that provide a clear national program, voters cannot see any relationship between their preferences and government. Coalition governments made up of many parties pursuing narrow interests do not provide an adequate substitute, because they are not elected as governments. Instead, they form in parliament after elections. The absence of well-structured parties thus lent great plausibility to the fascist critique of liberalism. One of the main targets of fascist criticism in all three of the major cases examined in this book was the “political class.” Fascists rejected the idea of political interest representation through votes, because in the specific political conditions in which they operated such mechanisms of interest representation did not work. The political circumstances immediately prior to the rise of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Romania show this clearly; in each of these countries the political problem was not so much a high level of polarization between the left and the right as it was political disorganization. This political fact produced, understandably, the widespread view that voting and parliamentary debate had little or nothing to do with democracy in the sense of the rule of the people. The above analysis, then, while not addressing the connection between civil society and liberal democracy, suggests a new way of thinking about their relationship. Perhaps the central question is, under what political conditions is associational development compatible with liberal rule? In fact, from the perspective of this book, their coincidence no longer appears obvious but imposes itself instead as a problem. To resolve it is the task of another book.
June 16, 2020
remember a political theorist lamenting on his blog - this was back in the day when we were all proud yeomen farmers on our own blogs, rather than corralled into corporate posting latifundia like today - that with changes to the structure of academe, he was forced like any other researcher to write grants for his funding. In certain respects his task was easy - no need to justify expensive equipment, certainly - but these grant requirements also required a lengthy section outlining one's research methodology, and he couldn't, for the life of him, think of any honest answer for his methodology other than "sit down and think real hard." In the end, I believe, he wrote down some complicated description that sounded vaguely "scientific" and had the good sense to ignore when he actually did the work, for which it would have been entirely unsuited.
As a failed academic, I largely sympathize with the political theorist's complaints (and only "largely" rather than "entirely" because, being lucky enough to have failed, I don't have to write grants.) In my native field of historical sociology, I see it all the time - an introduction that lays out a methodology, several chapters of meaty historical analysis, concluding chapter that tries, not especially successfully, the hammer the square pegs of the latter into the round holes of the former. The result is a failure by the standards of Popperian science we've all been osmoted into (even if philosophers of science themselves are too cool for it nowadays,) but a success by the simultaneously vaguer and more demanding standards of "sit down and (read a bunch of books and) think real hard."
"Civic Foundations of Fascism" is, as you might guess, like that. The author defines all his terms (although some important ones used throughout the text are defined in the conclusion) and lays out a methodology - the very traditional one of Millian agreement and difference - as well as a broad schematic overview of an interesting theoretical account of the relationship between civil society development and Gramscian hegemony (broadly, that fascism emerges when the first grows faster than the latter, contrary to what many theories would expect.) We then get four meaty chapters on Italy, Spain, and Romania (and Germany and Hungary) full of analysis, fascinating conjectures, clear deep appreciation for the material, and a rather ad hoc and not very persuasive attempt to score the cases for the relevant variables. (Quick example: these five cases happen to be the same five that Michael Mann uses as positive cases of successful fascism; which case does Riley treat as negative? Does it help you if I tell you that the definition of fascism is "authoritarian democracy," democracy defined as legitimation through popular will, authoritarianism defined as non-liberalism, liberalism defined as procedural deliberation through debate and deal-making among interest groups?)
The most successful part of his agenda as such is the attack on naive Tocquevillean (Arendtian, &c.) accounts of fascism arising from weak civil societies. As he demonstrates particularly clearly in the case of Italy, fascism arose exactly from those regions and places where you'd expect any *other* middle-class civic association to come into being - in areas of dense civic association. (The case would be even stronger in the case of Germany, because while in Italy one might plausibly claim that fascism emerged and found greatest recruitment in northern areas of dense civil society, its ability to impose authoritarian rule on the country was enabled by weak civil society elsewhere in the country; in Germany, civil society was more mobilized generally.) This the "headline" contribution of the book, although as he notes there has been an increasing amount of empirical work elsewhere that says the same thing (that authoritarian mobilization is aided by the same things that enable civic mobilization more generally.) Attacks on other theses - for example the Moore thesis, which I admit I am partial to - seem harder to sustain, especially because other dependent variables (for example, the extent to which industry and agriculture were willing to cooperate) are a little harder to code, and my instinct would be to contest some of them. Other variables seem more troubled not just in terms of how to judge their scoring, but how to conceptualize it at all. (What is the distinction between (1) civil society being developed but under elite domination, but these elites not having hegemony, (2) civil society underdeveloped while elites have domination? Most evidence for the first part of one could plausibly be evidence for the second half of the latter, but the account makes very different predictions for these.)
But as I indicated, these objections are grading the book by standards that have become ubiquitous, and that even the book itself, in guilty conscience, holds itself to - but they are bad standards. In fact, were it to try to assiduously hold itself to such standards more fully, it would be a worse book - for instance, coming up with a definition of fascism that was easier to unambiguously score would likely be one that was less fruitful for thinking about the phenomenon (even if I think "authoritarian democracy" or "antipolitical ideology" is a bad way to conceptualize fascism, I think they are useful definitions to think through.) This is a good book that a lot of serious thinking about civil society, fascism, politics generally, Italy, Spain, Romania, Germany, Hungary, &c. has gone into, and with the exception of Germany I learned useful things about all of them. It is a good book, in other words, in the way that almost every other work of historical sociology is a good book, when they are good.
As a failed academic, I largely sympathize with the political theorist's complaints (and only "largely" rather than "entirely" because, being lucky enough to have failed, I don't have to write grants.) In my native field of historical sociology, I see it all the time - an introduction that lays out a methodology, several chapters of meaty historical analysis, concluding chapter that tries, not especially successfully, the hammer the square pegs of the latter into the round holes of the former. The result is a failure by the standards of Popperian science we've all been osmoted into (even if philosophers of science themselves are too cool for it nowadays,) but a success by the simultaneously vaguer and more demanding standards of "sit down and (read a bunch of books and) think real hard."
"Civic Foundations of Fascism" is, as you might guess, like that. The author defines all his terms (although some important ones used throughout the text are defined in the conclusion) and lays out a methodology - the very traditional one of Millian agreement and difference - as well as a broad schematic overview of an interesting theoretical account of the relationship between civil society development and Gramscian hegemony (broadly, that fascism emerges when the first grows faster than the latter, contrary to what many theories would expect.) We then get four meaty chapters on Italy, Spain, and Romania (and Germany and Hungary) full of analysis, fascinating conjectures, clear deep appreciation for the material, and a rather ad hoc and not very persuasive attempt to score the cases for the relevant variables. (Quick example: these five cases happen to be the same five that Michael Mann uses as positive cases of successful fascism; which case does Riley treat as negative? Does it help you if I tell you that the definition of fascism is "authoritarian democracy," democracy defined as legitimation through popular will, authoritarianism defined as non-liberalism, liberalism defined as procedural deliberation through debate and deal-making among interest groups?)
The most successful part of his agenda as such is the attack on naive Tocquevillean (Arendtian, &c.) accounts of fascism arising from weak civil societies. As he demonstrates particularly clearly in the case of Italy, fascism arose exactly from those regions and places where you'd expect any *other* middle-class civic association to come into being - in areas of dense civic association. (The case would be even stronger in the case of Germany, because while in Italy one might plausibly claim that fascism emerged and found greatest recruitment in northern areas of dense civil society, its ability to impose authoritarian rule on the country was enabled by weak civil society elsewhere in the country; in Germany, civil society was more mobilized generally.) This the "headline" contribution of the book, although as he notes there has been an increasing amount of empirical work elsewhere that says the same thing (that authoritarian mobilization is aided by the same things that enable civic mobilization more generally.) Attacks on other theses - for example the Moore thesis, which I admit I am partial to - seem harder to sustain, especially because other dependent variables (for example, the extent to which industry and agriculture were willing to cooperate) are a little harder to code, and my instinct would be to contest some of them. Other variables seem more troubled not just in terms of how to judge their scoring, but how to conceptualize it at all. (What is the distinction between (1) civil society being developed but under elite domination, but these elites not having hegemony, (2) civil society underdeveloped while elites have domination? Most evidence for the first part of one could plausibly be evidence for the second half of the latter, but the account makes very different predictions for these.)
But as I indicated, these objections are grading the book by standards that have become ubiquitous, and that even the book itself, in guilty conscience, holds itself to - but they are bad standards. In fact, were it to try to assiduously hold itself to such standards more fully, it would be a worse book - for instance, coming up with a definition of fascism that was easier to unambiguously score would likely be one that was less fruitful for thinking about the phenomenon (even if I think "authoritarian democracy" or "antipolitical ideology" is a bad way to conceptualize fascism, I think they are useful definitions to think through.) This is a good book that a lot of serious thinking about civil society, fascism, politics generally, Italy, Spain, Romania, Germany, Hungary, &c. has gone into, and with the exception of Germany I learned useful things about all of them. It is a good book, in other words, in the way that almost every other work of historical sociology is a good book, when they are good.
January 20, 2023
I was looking forward to reading this though I had a strong suspicion I would be frustrated by it. the lengthy introduction riffing with polsci concepts, axe-grinding state-formation models developed by people I'd never heard of and an overall emphasis on method let me know that I would be in fact be v frustrated by it.
Riley's argument is directed against a cohort of political scientists who propagate a 'Tocquevillian' analysis of the state and society; the notion that the growth of voluntary associations in modernity open up to democratic outcomes. Riley argues that such developments can as easily inculcate the social forces that lead to fascism and where fascism did develop hegemony that might have sustained the rule of a particular class or coalition of classes were lacking. After the theoretical stall is set out there are three case studies, each of which, Riley argues, are distinct; statist fascism in Romania, traditionalist fascism in Spain and party fascism in Italy. I would recommend anyone approaching this book looking for histories of these moments in broad outline to just read these three chapters and skip a paragraph when they see the phrase 'intra-group hegemony'.
In his eagerness to de-mystify liberal pieties Riley argues fascism is democratic, that fascist parties and organisations represented means of upholding and enforcing the popular will. Therefore one of the reasons Trump isn't a fascist (left / liberal apocalypticism on his entering office provided an opportunity to re-launch the book) is because civil society in the United States is characterised by an absence of democracy rather than a surfeit. This is fine but also really stupid in a way that only very well-read people with tenure can be. I'll leave aside the quite correct point that I think Gabriel Winant made that the police are the Friekorps that Riley can't see here because I do think understanding Trump as an emblem of the Reality Collapse Event is important, but I see no reason why we can't and shouldn't square what we see in fascism's 'classical' epoch with developments since. The political and social objectives of fascism; the beheading of communism, militarisation, racialised mass-killings have all been realised in the United States and I don't think Riley needs to come up with a new theory in order for us to have pre-existing social formations that it might remind us of.
I think the book suffers in direct proportion to how hard its working to pursue its hypothesis and reduces the quite good historical stuff to quibbling over taxonomy, eschewing what I think the strength of Marxist analysis is in the first place, i.e. understanding these things in their historical context. As polsci works dealing with the fascistic nature of liberalism I find Losurdo much better. He keeps it looser and lays a lot more emphasis on imperial atrocities, which I think is where the real evidence on this stuff is found. Riley's re-issued preface apologises for the lack of space given to imperialism, but doesn't seem to have revised the book as a consequence, which isn't good enough.
Riley's argument is directed against a cohort of political scientists who propagate a 'Tocquevillian' analysis of the state and society; the notion that the growth of voluntary associations in modernity open up to democratic outcomes. Riley argues that such developments can as easily inculcate the social forces that lead to fascism and where fascism did develop hegemony that might have sustained the rule of a particular class or coalition of classes were lacking. After the theoretical stall is set out there are three case studies, each of which, Riley argues, are distinct; statist fascism in Romania, traditionalist fascism in Spain and party fascism in Italy. I would recommend anyone approaching this book looking for histories of these moments in broad outline to just read these three chapters and skip a paragraph when they see the phrase 'intra-group hegemony'.
In his eagerness to de-mystify liberal pieties Riley argues fascism is democratic, that fascist parties and organisations represented means of upholding and enforcing the popular will. Therefore one of the reasons Trump isn't a fascist (left / liberal apocalypticism on his entering office provided an opportunity to re-launch the book) is because civil society in the United States is characterised by an absence of democracy rather than a surfeit. This is fine but also really stupid in a way that only very well-read people with tenure can be. I'll leave aside the quite correct point that I think Gabriel Winant made that the police are the Friekorps that Riley can't see here because I do think understanding Trump as an emblem of the Reality Collapse Event is important, but I see no reason why we can't and shouldn't square what we see in fascism's 'classical' epoch with developments since. The political and social objectives of fascism; the beheading of communism, militarisation, racialised mass-killings have all been realised in the United States and I don't think Riley needs to come up with a new theory in order for us to have pre-existing social formations that it might remind us of.
I think the book suffers in direct proportion to how hard its working to pursue its hypothesis and reduces the quite good historical stuff to quibbling over taxonomy, eschewing what I think the strength of Marxist analysis is in the first place, i.e. understanding these things in their historical context. As polsci works dealing with the fascistic nature of liberalism I find Losurdo much better. He keeps it looser and lays a lot more emphasis on imperial atrocities, which I think is where the real evidence on this stuff is found. Riley's re-issued preface apologises for the lack of space given to imperialism, but doesn't seem to have revised the book as a consequence, which isn't good enough.
August 12, 2020
A difficult read, not for those just getting into the subject of Fascism, but highly gratifying when finished. The tiny print in the copy I had makes every page feel like an entire chapter. Nevertheless, the book was engaging. Riley compares fascism in Italy, Spain and Romania, adding a breif overview of Germany and Hungary towards the end of the book, and manages to keep a clear presentation of the historical conditions leading up to an establishment of a fascist regime. At times, the writing is dry, and the interesting parts are moved into the endnotes, which was a source of some annoyance for me as a reader, but that is the fault of the academic style. The theories of fascism are discussed in great detail, I felt I learned a lot, even though I haven't read much about fascism otherwise.
The most interesting part of the book is Riley's claim that fascism is a mass "authoritarian democracy". For him, democracy is not equal to liberal paralementarism. The former is a way of legitimating governence "in the name of all the people", while the latter gains its legitimacy from a belief that liberal institutions are capable of producing meaningful and positive political debates. In his view, fascism legitimized itself by claiming to be the representative of "the people" against a corrupt and rich "class of politicians", which - in many cases - they really were. Many would disagree here and rather call fascism an "authoritatian populism", rather than "democracy". But the idea of democracy as a tool of legitimation rather than a system of institutions seems to me a well-based critique that should be closely considered before being rejected.
The most interesting part of the book is Riley's claim that fascism is a mass "authoritarian democracy". For him, democracy is not equal to liberal paralementarism. The former is a way of legitimating governence "in the name of all the people", while the latter gains its legitimacy from a belief that liberal institutions are capable of producing meaningful and positive political debates. In his view, fascism legitimized itself by claiming to be the representative of "the people" against a corrupt and rich "class of politicians", which - in many cases - they really were. Many would disagree here and rather call fascism an "authoritatian populism", rather than "democracy". But the idea of democracy as a tool of legitimation rather than a system of institutions seems to me a well-based critique that should be closely considered before being rejected.
January 1, 2020
Why a vibrant civil society is not the democratic antidote to fascism but its necessary anti-political instrument.
October 20, 2023
This book looks at civil society in three European countries that succumbed to fascism during the interwar years: Italy, Spain, and Romania. The author argues that all three countries had significant civil society organization, but that these organizations divided society rather than uniting it (as had happened in Western countries that democratized successfully). It is an interesting argument, and is a very well-researched and well-written book. My only concern with it is that the author uses a lot of jargon, which he doesn't really explain, like the lack of a hegemonic or counterhegemonic group, which made his argument a bit hard to follow for the lay reader. The book was published in 2010, and he references illiberal democracy in these three countries, which eventually produced fascism. It would be interesting for the author to publish an update where he compares this situation to contemporary Western societies, so see if some of the same conditions that produced fascism in the early 20th century apply.
October 10, 2020
Fascinating examination of what conditions actually seeded the ground for fascism in Europe. It's not the most engaging read (since it strictly follows an academic case study model), but I think it has some content that leftists will need to grapple with. I would be interested in seeing Riley's thoughts on how civil society has developed in America in line with his Gramscian theory in this book.
January 3, 2025
Interesting thesis with a lot of fascinating historical empirics. Often found it a bit hard to trace the exact argument and connect it to the empirics, but it does provide an in interesting framework for digging into the conditions that produced fascism.
February 25, 2023
Disturbing.
September 14, 2025
Some brilliant theoretical moves with Gramsci and de Tocqueville. Aesthetically I would want a lil more social history, but otherwise clear and convincing.
December 11, 2024
Returning to my study of fascism with Dylan Riley's The Civic Foundations of Fascism in Europe. Riley brings together several lines of thought to give a unique account of fascism.
He starts with Tocqueville, who argued that civic associations promote democracy. Rural coops, business lobbies, mutual aid societies, religious groups, etc. Their overlapping membership limits the extent that any one group can radicalize.
This tradition explains fascism and Bolshevism as extremes which developed because associations were destroyed due to WWI and other social changes. Riley points out that the early 20th century was actually a time of growth for civic associations. In fact, fascism was strongest in areas with high rates of membership in such groups.
How to explain this? Riley leans on Gramsci here, arguing that associations do promote democracy, but the exact form these democratic movements take depends on the existence of hegemonic politics.
In countries like Italy, Spain, and Romania, the upper classes failed to establish hegemony. No liberal party dominated or set the terms of national debate. The majority of the population did not have the right to vote, so parliamentary government consisted of backroom deals and corruption. The lack of mass participation or coherent political stakes limited the formation of counterhegemonic groups. In this chaos the democratic impulse from civic associationism took an anti-liberal form: fascism. For this reason Riley calls fascism "authoritarian democracy."
There are key insights in this book, but I'm not impressed by his definition of democracy. He rejects a proceduralist definition which would use something like voting as a criterion. Instead he says that a democracy is simply any government which appeals to the will of the people for legitimacy. At several points in the book he unknowingly slips back into a proceduralist definition of democracy which I think reveals the weakness of his alternative.
He's right that fascism can be understood as a reaction to the failures of liberalism. I'm just not sure he nails the right conceptual forms to explain it. There's a wealth of historical evidence in this book so I'm happy to have read it.
He starts with Tocqueville, who argued that civic associations promote democracy. Rural coops, business lobbies, mutual aid societies, religious groups, etc. Their overlapping membership limits the extent that any one group can radicalize.
This tradition explains fascism and Bolshevism as extremes which developed because associations were destroyed due to WWI and other social changes. Riley points out that the early 20th century was actually a time of growth for civic associations. In fact, fascism was strongest in areas with high rates of membership in such groups.
How to explain this? Riley leans on Gramsci here, arguing that associations do promote democracy, but the exact form these democratic movements take depends on the existence of hegemonic politics.
In countries like Italy, Spain, and Romania, the upper classes failed to establish hegemony. No liberal party dominated or set the terms of national debate. The majority of the population did not have the right to vote, so parliamentary government consisted of backroom deals and corruption. The lack of mass participation or coherent political stakes limited the formation of counterhegemonic groups. In this chaos the democratic impulse from civic associationism took an anti-liberal form: fascism. For this reason Riley calls fascism "authoritarian democracy."
There are key insights in this book, but I'm not impressed by his definition of democracy. He rejects a proceduralist definition which would use something like voting as a criterion. Instead he says that a democracy is simply any government which appeals to the will of the people for legitimacy. At several points in the book he unknowingly slips back into a proceduralist definition of democracy which I think reveals the weakness of his alternative.
He's right that fascism can be understood as a reaction to the failures of liberalism. I'm just not sure he nails the right conceptual forms to explain it. There's a wealth of historical evidence in this book so I'm happy to have read it.
March 21, 2021
Worthwhile reading as recent events have unfolded. Very compelling thesis, and I appreciated how he re-emphasized the (very dense) key concepts.
I did find the updated introduction on Trumpism a bit rigid, and would've liked a discussion of today's civic associations organized digitally rather than by geography or occupation.
I did find the updated introduction on Trumpism a bit rigid, and would've liked a discussion of today's civic associations organized digitally rather than by geography or occupation.
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