CITY PLANNING
UNDER FASCISM
Luke
Hancock 759292
The first half of the 20th
century was a turbulent period of history, characterized by rapid social change
and violent reformations of political structure across Europe. It is within this context that the rise of
fascism took place, and whose ideological foundations took definitive and
authoritative form under new regimes established in Italy and Germany. This new order extended its influence to
Spain under the leadership of Francisco Franco, following his decisive victory
in the Spanish Civil War (1936 – 1939) with the assistance of Italian and
German forces.
Fascist leaders sought to rapidly transform
the 20th century city.
They were redesigned, often drastically so,
to showcase the legitimacy and power of the new political regimes – to be the
physical manifestation of a new unified vision. While the specific form of
these visions varied between countries, a number of themes remained consistent in
their creation. Territorial expansionism was also a focus of these regimes,
supported by appeals to racial or cultural superiority though devices such as
symbology, propaganda, and mysticism, together with the exploitation of the
‘cult of personality’ that surrounded their leaders.
Within fascist representations of space,
‘the function of urban planning and architecture resided in the elaboration of
a new grammar and pragmatics of absolute spaces and places under the guidelines
established by political power’ (Santianez 2013, p. 30). This primary function was supplemented by forms
of ‘soft’ structure (flags, insignia, signage of streets, squares and buildings
renamed in honour of the elite etc.) and programs that operated within public
space (military marches, organised displays of aggression, public rallies etc.). This comprehensive approach played an
important role in the strengthening (and by contrast, the suppression) of
identity, justification of violence, and the re-ordering of social structure
away from the autonomous individual towards an established set of hierarchical
relationships submissive to the state.
The rise of fascism provided the will and
funding necessary for the implementation of policies and projects unavailable
in previous decades of political and economic instability. This was met with great enthusiasm,
particularly from German planners left frustrated by the tentative approach of
the Weimar Republic. The influx of new
projects and opportunity for urban development were positively received, including
those who were conservative to the new political powers administrating them (Diefendorf
1993).
Particular attention was given to
administrative capitals and cities of strong cultural or historical value. Within Germany, extensive planning revisions
were made for the cities of Nuremburg, Hamburg, Munich and Linz. Perhaps the
most ambitious of these was Welthaupstadt Germania, a dramatic reimaging of
Berlin only partially realised. Taking
inspiration from Haussmann’s transformation of Paris, large sections of cities
were to be destroyed and populations relocated to allow for the creation of new
monumental architecture and public spaces along broad axes.
It was a similar case in Rome, in which development
was cleared near sites of imperial heritage.
This was designed to allow a stronger visual connection to the historic narrative
Italy was founded upon and to which it strived towards. In an attempt to revive this ancient
authority, Mussolini ordered ‘all that has grown up in the centuries of decadence
must disappear. The thousand-year-old
monuments of our history must stand like giants in their necessary solitude’
(cited in ed. Minkenberg 2014, p. 159). Crowded housing settlements were
displaced towards the city’s fringes, an act that was alleged to have a
sanitary effect and increase the health of citizens. However, ‘an unspoken motive of the regime
was to move these working-class populations to areas where they could be more
easily watched and controlled’ (Painter, Jr. 2005, p. 4).
The fascist city became a growing symbol of
nationalistic self-assurance. To ensure
this legacy, the body of work produced by architects and planners of this
period aimed towards posterity. These concerns are discussed in Albert Speer’s
Theory of Ruin Value, and can be heard clearly in the following appeal by
Benito Mussolini on his vision for the Italian capital:
‘Rome cannot, must not be only a modern city, in the
by now banal sense of the word, it must be a city worthy of its glory and this
glory must unceasingly renovate in order to hand down, as a heritage of the
fascist era, to the generations to come’ (cited in
Painter, Jr. 2005, p. 4).
However, many proposed developments would
never come to be realised due to the exhaustive amounts of material and labour
stock redirected to the war efforts, and the eventual downfall of fascism
within Germany and Italy in the wake of military defeat. Though the Francoist regime in Spain would
outlive the Second World War, fascist ideology soon began to lose influence in
the fields of urban planning and architecture.
The country’s integration within international networks of capitalism
after decades of political isolation, and the associated increases to economic
growth, tourism and rural to urban migration, would become stronger
determinants in the design of cities.
‘The fascists’ attempts to transform physical space and intervene in the
urban processes could not compete against capital’ (Santianez 2013, p. 13).
The downfall of fascism was followed by rapid
executions of political effacement across the urban landscape, in doing so
reducing the representation it held over this space. This process has recently
begun in Spain by order of the Historical Memory Law enacted in 2007. However, the range and scale of intervention
undertaken by these regimes produced impacts upon the urban landscape that
would far exceed their relatively brief time in power. The physical specters remain not only in the persistence
of architectural monuments, but also engrained within the broader fabric of
entire cities. Today, the remnants of this period continue to pose challenging
questions of how to appropriately and sensitively respond to the historical
legacies of fascism.
EXTRA DISCUSSION TOPICS:
‘The means of consumption of political
messages have…moved almost entirely toward mass media and away from the power
of the built environment’ (ed. Minkenberg 2014, p. 175).
Reflecting on this comment, what role do
you think that urban planning/design and architecture has to play in the
political processes of today, particularly within the context of Australian
cities and democratic society? In which ways has this role changed over time to
serve different purposes?
What consideration do you think should be
applied to the study of thought produced in this era? Take for example Hans Schmitt’s ideas for the
reconstruction of Cologne, in which ‘the whole inner city – with housing,
commerce and “city” functions – should be made into a huge pedestrian zone’ and
his insistence on ‘a radical ban on autos in the inner city’ (Diefendorf 1993,
pg. 172). Do you think this idea holds
potential for successful application today?
Can you indentify any examples today that
reflect the methods of fascist regimes in regards to the utilisation of urban
form and function to shape social behaviour and ideas of identity?
REFERENCES:
Diefendorf, JM 1993, In the Wake of War: The Reconstruction of German Cities
after World War II, Oxford
University Press, New York.
Minkenberg, M (ed.) 2014, Power and Architecture: The Construction of
Capitals
and the Politics of Space,
Berghahn Books, New York.
Painter, Jr. BW 2005, Mussolini’s Rome: Rebuilding the Eternal City, Palgrave
Macmillan, New
York.
Santianez, N 2009, Topographies of Fascism: Habitus, Space, and Writing in
Twentieth-Century Spain, University
of Toronto Press, Toronto.
