Italy, as well, saw growing repression. The 1975 Legge Reale permitted police to open fire when public order was “threatened”; and dictated severe sentences for demonstrators possessing defensive or identity-protecting measures, such as handkerchiefs, helmets, and balaclavas. That year “marked the beginning of the most violent and bloody phase of the class struggle” there (Berardi 153). The autonomists were then the latest phase of an immense upsurge, of workers, youth, women, and the marginalized, ongoing in the country since 1968 – with no long-term lull, unlike France or the US.
Armed-struggle groupings, such as Prima Linea (“Front Line”) and the infamous Red Brigades (RB), grew in the face of police attacks and juridical assaults. In 1978, the RB kidnapped Aldo Moro, the former, Christian-Democratic Prime Minister, and demanded the release of imprisoned comrades. The government refused negotiations, and the RB murdered Moro. Many believe that this sordid denouement furthered the “strategy of tension” backed by elements of the Italian ruling elites. This strategy was intended to create a climate of terror that would popularly delegitimize and demoralize the mass, left movements and provide ideological pretexts for escalating the state’s crackdown.
Given the Moro affair, such escalation began in early 1979. Major autonomist figures, including Antonio Negri, were arrested and charged with supporting the RB; eventually, more than 12,000 militants would be incarcerated, some for decades, with hundreds fleeing into exile (Lotringer v). This doomed the autonomists and decisively ended the long-1968 political sequence.
Concern about repression and violations of basic civil liberties – to use US terminology – in Germany, Italy, and elsewhere was shared by the left generally. This was one factor driving theorizations of an allegedly new, “strong state” capitalism. These theories addressed not only the actions of “armed bodies of men” but also other factors, such as intensifying economic centralization. The later works of Nicos Poulantzas are one example.
These are some of the objective conditions which existed in Europe at the time and which can, at least partially, contextualize Buchloh’s profound concerns over “authoritarianism,” “proto-Fascis[m],” and a “seizure of state power” by such forces.
Aside from the “strong state” strategy, fascist strategies had also been prepared, certainly in Italy. Those two approaches are different. Unlike Bonapartist and elite dictatorships, fascism mobilizes the petit-bourgeoisie as a leading class-strata; is therefore relatively autonomous vis-à-vis the high bourgeoisie; actually militarizes these mass forces, outside of the system, for the physical destruction on-the-streets of the workers’ movement; upholds the most reactionary ideas; and can “revitalize” the capitalist state through fascist cadres and apparatuses.
In the end, both ceded to neoliberal value-accumulation strategies. By some point in the 1980s, neoliberalism was more obviously dominant and successful at neutralizing much of the post-1960s forward motion of working class and oppressed peoples. (This is applicable, of course, only until the 2007-08 global economic crisis.)
This neutralization was facilitated by the constant failures of European social-democratic, official Communist, and New Left-influenced parties to overturn the capitalist state, even in seemingly more-propitious situations. Dictatorships ended in Portugal in 1974, when the Carnation revolution overthrew Marcelo Caetano; and in Spain in 1975, when the butcher Francisco Franco finally expired. Despite popular mobilizations, particularly in Portugal, both cases ended in prolonged transitions to bourgeois democracy. The Eurocommunist projects in France and Italy, while having a certain logic, ran aground. Even relatively measured reforms proposed by the Socialist François Mitterrand, elected to the French Presidency in 1981, were squashed by opposition from international capital.
The 1984 compilation Art After Modernism featured “Figures of Authority” and a new postscript by Buchloh. In the latter, the author is deeply critical of his original piece: “The present situation … may perhaps be less profitably compared with the twenties than I originally suspected” (163). Buchloh’s striking revisions to the earlier theses can be understood in terms of, precisely, shifts in the political situation.
First, from the postscript: “[W]hen we look at a painting by Kiefer, for example, we see first of all a German national asserting through his art a national authenticity and identity, but also tackling or toying with the distant monstrosity of German Fascism, simultaneously exorcising its power in today’s society and performing for us the labor of mourning occasioned by a barbarism that has quickly receded into the past” (164-65). (Neo-expressionism remained visible in 1984, and artists such as Kiefer are now canonical.)
Here, initial concerns over “authoritarianism” and “proto-Fascis[m]” have receded by 1984. The nationalism inherent in neo-expressionism no longer points towards a potential “seizure of state power” by such forces, but towards a “distant monstrosity” or “barbarism” – in “the past,” its power “exorcis[ed]” by a “labor of mourning.” This is a result of neoliberalism’s success – and displacement of fascism and those aspects of the “strong state” I noted earlier.
Second: The “aesthetic mirage” (165) of neo-expressionism “seldom … reflect[s] upon the real fears (and practices of protest) brought on the aggressive policies of the Reagan administration and by the deployment of missiles on the territory likely to be the first ‘war theater’” (163). Those “fears” are instead “project[ed] … onto the distant historical reality of authoritarian politics in other countries” (165). Here is the most fundamental driver behind Buchloh’s revisions.