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Fascism: A History
Eatwell's book presents an excellent historical introduction to fascism. It is particularly strong in explaining the origins of the movement and also in dealing with the problem of neofascism.
338 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1995
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July 5, 2021
A well-written and well-organized book that is nevertheless shot through with fatal flaws.
The author talks about the importance of studying fascist ideology and establishing a "fascist minimum" (that is, the minimum qualities which would enable someone to distinguish between a fascist and non-fascist ideology, regime, movement, whatever) and instead spends the entirety of its not-inconsiderable length talking about a handful of fascist "great men" ranging from Hitler and Mussolini to the likes of Sir Oswald Mosley, a risible figure who seems to be included only because he's English. And speaking of the English people the author presumes to build an argument for British exceptionalism, where he says British people were immune to the charms of fascist ideology thanks at least in part to good old fashioned Protestanism, an argument that he himself destroys in the text by pointing out that the Nazis were most successful in Protestant regions of Germany.
Fascism outside of Germany, Italy, France and Britain is ignored, leaving out everything from Russian Black Hundreds, Romanian Iron Guards, Spanish and Lebanese Falangists, Mexican Synarchists and so on. And while some argument might perhaps be made that these groups were not "really" fascist it's an argument that has to be made in a book that purports to be a history of that ideology.
The book also plays up the anti-capitalist rhetoric of fascist leaders and theorists without detailing that they use a completely different definition of capitalism than critics of that economic system from the Left. While leftists use "capitalism" to mean an economic system characterized by private control of the means of production and wage labor and propose to replace it with collective control of those, fascists call "capitalism" decadent and propose to fix its problems by making business owners less greedy and more patriotic. Yes, fascism economics really is just a bunch of stupid pie-in-the-sky platitudes and capitalists did in fact make out like bandits everywhere fascism actually came to power.
Finally (and infuriatingly) Eatwell makes a number of whataboutist arguments, claiming that atrocities against Italian civilians by the Nazis' lickspittle Salo Republic for example were "provoked" by communists. This is straight up Nazi apologetics in a book that's supposed to be a serious history.
I suggest anyone interested in the subject read Paxton's much better and much shorter "Anatomy of Fascism" instead.
The author talks about the importance of studying fascist ideology and establishing a "fascist minimum" (that is, the minimum qualities which would enable someone to distinguish between a fascist and non-fascist ideology, regime, movement, whatever) and instead spends the entirety of its not-inconsiderable length talking about a handful of fascist "great men" ranging from Hitler and Mussolini to the likes of Sir Oswald Mosley, a risible figure who seems to be included only because he's English. And speaking of the English people the author presumes to build an argument for British exceptionalism, where he says British people were immune to the charms of fascist ideology thanks at least in part to good old fashioned Protestanism, an argument that he himself destroys in the text by pointing out that the Nazis were most successful in Protestant regions of Germany.
Fascism outside of Germany, Italy, France and Britain is ignored, leaving out everything from Russian Black Hundreds, Romanian Iron Guards, Spanish and Lebanese Falangists, Mexican Synarchists and so on. And while some argument might perhaps be made that these groups were not "really" fascist it's an argument that has to be made in a book that purports to be a history of that ideology.
The book also plays up the anti-capitalist rhetoric of fascist leaders and theorists without detailing that they use a completely different definition of capitalism than critics of that economic system from the Left. While leftists use "capitalism" to mean an economic system characterized by private control of the means of production and wage labor and propose to replace it with collective control of those, fascists call "capitalism" decadent and propose to fix its problems by making business owners less greedy and more patriotic. Yes, fascism economics really is just a bunch of stupid pie-in-the-sky platitudes and capitalists did in fact make out like bandits everywhere fascism actually came to power.
Finally (and infuriatingly) Eatwell makes a number of whataboutist arguments, claiming that atrocities against Italian civilians by the Nazis' lickspittle Salo Republic for example were "provoked" by communists. This is straight up Nazi apologetics in a book that's supposed to be a serious history.
I suggest anyone interested in the subject read Paxton's much better and much shorter "Anatomy of Fascism" instead.
September 2, 2026
Roger Eatwell’s “Fascism: A History” offers readers a clear and comprehensive overview of fascism, using four case studies (Italy, Germany, France, and Italy) to illustrate the various fates of the core ideological principle, with a theoretical, political, and historical approach to understanding how fascist movements grow and strengthen. This synthesis lends itself to an audience first getting acquainted with the topic of fascism by using a three-pronged approach to analyse the case studies with his definition: a "holistic national ideology” that seeks to create a “new man”, leading to a revolutionary “third way” promising national rebirth through unity and myth. He begins with this definition and then sets out challenging alternative models in the field, such as the purely psychological understanding of fascism, the middle-class theory, and the “mass man” theory, to situate the reader. While this conceptual clarity makes the book a practical introduction, it also risks overstating the ideological coherence of movements that were often shaped as much by contingency as by belief. Eatwell’s ability to weave together intellectual history, political theory, and comparative analysis gives the work a pedagogical clarity that few surveys of fascism achieve. He emphasises how the philosophical origins, from Romantic inspirations in Goethe to Nietzschean and Sorelian ideas, infused a cultural revolt against Enlightenment liberalism, which fascist movements then politicised into a promise of national renewal. In doing so, Eatwell treats fascism as an autonomous political and cultural ideology, whose manifestations remain dependent on nation-specific conditions, reflecting the historiographical trend of the late twentieth century towards pluralist interpretations rather than class-based or totalitarian models.
Eatwell’s attempt to define fascism places him within a long historiographical debate over how, or whether, fascism can be defined generically. Like Zeev Sternhell, he treats fascism primarily as an ideological phenomenon rather than a regime or a sociological type. Yet while Sternhell locates fascism’s essence in an early-twentieth-century synthesis of nationalism and socialism rooted in French intellectual life, and specifically French counter-Englightenment thought, Eatwell places emphasis more directly on the Romantic movement, Nietzsche, and Sorel, looking beyond France to the German and Italian intellectual traditions. He clearly borrows from Ernst Nolte as well, particularly the idea that fascism can be a transnational phenomenon, using his comparative framework but at the same time rejecting his teleological argument that it was simply a reaction to Bolshevism, but more importantly that fascism could not return, as it was epochal. His writing stands in stark contrast, however, to Stanley Payne’s: where Payne’s typological rigidity reduces fascism to a checklist of institutional traits, Eatwell focuses on its ideological form, arguing that the movement’s success depends on historical and cultural conditions rather than institutional structures. This perspective was later challenged by Robert Paxton’s processual approach, redefining fascism as a political practice rather than a belief system. Furthermore, his work serves as a natural continuation of fellow British historian Roger Griffin’s work, who likewise sought to capture the ideological essence of fascism through the myths of rebirth, unity, and cultural renewal. Both define fascism through its redemptive narrative of national palingenesis, but where Griffin constructs an ideal type rooted in a mythic structure, Eatwell situates that structure within the varying political conditions in which it took root. This difference in emphasis is reflected in Eatwell’s methodological design.
Part of Eatwell’s uniqueness, or so he claims, is the combination of comparative history with political theory, using what he calls a “macro-meso-micro” analysis to link broad ideological patterns to national structures, local dynamics, and individual leaders. This tripartite method allows him to interrogate his comparative approach more by assessing each case in its own unique context, but it risks treating ideology as more coherent than the messy realities of fascist politics permit. It also reflects the influence of political science on Eatwell’s thinking, as he attempts to bridge structural and ideational explanations in a way that historians like Griffin or Sternhell rarely do. This framework privileges intellectual causation over the reciprocal pressures of social conflict and material circumstance. While this grants fascism the ideological seriousness it deserves, it can also lead to a particular abstraction. This abstraction naturally shapes both the scope and texture of his analysis.
Eatwell’s strength lies in his ability to synthesise an enormous body of scholarship into a coherent framework, but this also limits his empirical depth, rendering his analysis both dependent on previous interpretations and, at times, superficial. The foundation of the analysis lies in the emphasis on Sorelian and Nietzschean ideological roots, as well as a comparative analysis using national historiographies, differing based on the case study. The enormity of his task results in moments where analysis gives way to generalisation; he frequently raises topics without fully developing them, such as his cursory reference to women in the Italian movement, noted but never explored. Yet the inelegance that appears periodically and is slightly structural does not detract from the fantastic overview the book provides as an introductory text. Experts will almost certainly find the text too sweeping, yet its clarity and coherence make it a valuable bridge between academic theory and historical narrative, particularly for students seeking insight into scholarly discussions of fascism.
However, Eatwell does pose interesting questions with compelling answers. Why did Italy and Germany become fully fascist, whereas France and Britain did not? Where do those differences lie? Eatwell’s answer sits as a healthy opposition to Hannah Arendt’s in Totalitarianism, by specifically rejecting her conflation of fascism and communism as parallel manifestations of a single “totalitarian” impulse, where the answers were globally sweeping rather than focusing on the specific characteristics of each nation. Instead of offering a globally uniform explanation, Eatwell focuses on the distinct political and cultural conditions and he comes to two distinct conclusions: first, the lack of a long-term established right wing in Italy and Germany created a political vacuum that allowed fascist movements to form alliances with traditional elites, and second, nations suffering crises of national identity and humiliation provided fertile ground for myths of renewal and unity. The answers to these questions form the basis for Eatwell’s later reflections on the durability of fascist ideas and the potential for their resurfacing in new political guises.
The monograph truly shines in its examination of neo-fascism and the potential dangers posed by ideological rehabilitation in modern democracies. While Eatwell deems it unlikely that the 20th-century version of fascism will blatantly return, he warns of a “repackaging” of its core themes, such as national rebirth, the demonisation of the ‘other’, and a populist revolt against liberal elites, that continue to resonate amid economic insecurity and cultural anxiety. His reflections on the 1980s and 1990s revival of radical-right movements demonstrate how fascism's emotional appeal can be re-energised by contemporary crises if the ideological foundation is still there, which he argues never fully went away. The examples he gives strike a chord, particularly the examination of Le Pen’s success (the book being published during a moment of suspense in his political career), striking a slightly prophetic tone with Le Pen’s daughter’s rising influence in modern-day France. Further crises such as unemployment, anti-immigrant sentiment, and fears of lost national identity remain poignant as Eatwell’s “holistic nationalist ideology” definition proves diagnostic, offering up a framework for recognising the adaptive survival of fascist rhetoric within democratic politics.
In sum, Fascism: A History succeeds as both a synthesis and a warning. Eatwell’s comparative, ideologically centred approach with his three-pronged methodology places him firmly within the late twentieth-century “generic fascism” debate. The book's strengths lie in its clarity and scope, offering an accessible framework that connects philosophy, politics, and culture without reducing fascism to any one cause. Yet this same breadth limits its empirical precision, occasionally smoothing over the messy contingencies that later scholars, most notably Paxton, would focus on directly. Still, Eatwell’s emphasis on fascism’s ideological adaptability proves prescient, recontextualising it as an ideology capable of renewal in moments of crisis. In a period when the boundaries between populism and extremism have become increasingly porous, his framework remains a powerful reminder of how democratic societies can unwittingly absorb and normalise the language of exclusion. That warning, drawn from careful historical comparison, gives the book its lasting urgency beyond its original context. For that reason, his work remains a valuable contribution to both the historiography of fascism and the continuing effort to understand its modern echoes.
Eatwell’s attempt to define fascism places him within a long historiographical debate over how, or whether, fascism can be defined generically. Like Zeev Sternhell, he treats fascism primarily as an ideological phenomenon rather than a regime or a sociological type. Yet while Sternhell locates fascism’s essence in an early-twentieth-century synthesis of nationalism and socialism rooted in French intellectual life, and specifically French counter-Englightenment thought, Eatwell places emphasis more directly on the Romantic movement, Nietzsche, and Sorel, looking beyond France to the German and Italian intellectual traditions. He clearly borrows from Ernst Nolte as well, particularly the idea that fascism can be a transnational phenomenon, using his comparative framework but at the same time rejecting his teleological argument that it was simply a reaction to Bolshevism, but more importantly that fascism could not return, as it was epochal. His writing stands in stark contrast, however, to Stanley Payne’s: where Payne’s typological rigidity reduces fascism to a checklist of institutional traits, Eatwell focuses on its ideological form, arguing that the movement’s success depends on historical and cultural conditions rather than institutional structures. This perspective was later challenged by Robert Paxton’s processual approach, redefining fascism as a political practice rather than a belief system. Furthermore, his work serves as a natural continuation of fellow British historian Roger Griffin’s work, who likewise sought to capture the ideological essence of fascism through the myths of rebirth, unity, and cultural renewal. Both define fascism through its redemptive narrative of national palingenesis, but where Griffin constructs an ideal type rooted in a mythic structure, Eatwell situates that structure within the varying political conditions in which it took root. This difference in emphasis is reflected in Eatwell’s methodological design.
Part of Eatwell’s uniqueness, or so he claims, is the combination of comparative history with political theory, using what he calls a “macro-meso-micro” analysis to link broad ideological patterns to national structures, local dynamics, and individual leaders. This tripartite method allows him to interrogate his comparative approach more by assessing each case in its own unique context, but it risks treating ideology as more coherent than the messy realities of fascist politics permit. It also reflects the influence of political science on Eatwell’s thinking, as he attempts to bridge structural and ideational explanations in a way that historians like Griffin or Sternhell rarely do. This framework privileges intellectual causation over the reciprocal pressures of social conflict and material circumstance. While this grants fascism the ideological seriousness it deserves, it can also lead to a particular abstraction. This abstraction naturally shapes both the scope and texture of his analysis.
Eatwell’s strength lies in his ability to synthesise an enormous body of scholarship into a coherent framework, but this also limits his empirical depth, rendering his analysis both dependent on previous interpretations and, at times, superficial. The foundation of the analysis lies in the emphasis on Sorelian and Nietzschean ideological roots, as well as a comparative analysis using national historiographies, differing based on the case study. The enormity of his task results in moments where analysis gives way to generalisation; he frequently raises topics without fully developing them, such as his cursory reference to women in the Italian movement, noted but never explored. Yet the inelegance that appears periodically and is slightly structural does not detract from the fantastic overview the book provides as an introductory text. Experts will almost certainly find the text too sweeping, yet its clarity and coherence make it a valuable bridge between academic theory and historical narrative, particularly for students seeking insight into scholarly discussions of fascism.
However, Eatwell does pose interesting questions with compelling answers. Why did Italy and Germany become fully fascist, whereas France and Britain did not? Where do those differences lie? Eatwell’s answer sits as a healthy opposition to Hannah Arendt’s in Totalitarianism, by specifically rejecting her conflation of fascism and communism as parallel manifestations of a single “totalitarian” impulse, where the answers were globally sweeping rather than focusing on the specific characteristics of each nation. Instead of offering a globally uniform explanation, Eatwell focuses on the distinct political and cultural conditions and he comes to two distinct conclusions: first, the lack of a long-term established right wing in Italy and Germany created a political vacuum that allowed fascist movements to form alliances with traditional elites, and second, nations suffering crises of national identity and humiliation provided fertile ground for myths of renewal and unity. The answers to these questions form the basis for Eatwell’s later reflections on the durability of fascist ideas and the potential for their resurfacing in new political guises.
The monograph truly shines in its examination of neo-fascism and the potential dangers posed by ideological rehabilitation in modern democracies. While Eatwell deems it unlikely that the 20th-century version of fascism will blatantly return, he warns of a “repackaging” of its core themes, such as national rebirth, the demonisation of the ‘other’, and a populist revolt against liberal elites, that continue to resonate amid economic insecurity and cultural anxiety. His reflections on the 1980s and 1990s revival of radical-right movements demonstrate how fascism's emotional appeal can be re-energised by contemporary crises if the ideological foundation is still there, which he argues never fully went away. The examples he gives strike a chord, particularly the examination of Le Pen’s success (the book being published during a moment of suspense in his political career), striking a slightly prophetic tone with Le Pen’s daughter’s rising influence in modern-day France. Further crises such as unemployment, anti-immigrant sentiment, and fears of lost national identity remain poignant as Eatwell’s “holistic nationalist ideology” definition proves diagnostic, offering up a framework for recognising the adaptive survival of fascist rhetoric within democratic politics.
In sum, Fascism: A History succeeds as both a synthesis and a warning. Eatwell’s comparative, ideologically centred approach with his three-pronged methodology places him firmly within the late twentieth-century “generic fascism” debate. The book's strengths lie in its clarity and scope, offering an accessible framework that connects philosophy, politics, and culture without reducing fascism to any one cause. Yet this same breadth limits its empirical precision, occasionally smoothing over the messy contingencies that later scholars, most notably Paxton, would focus on directly. Still, Eatwell’s emphasis on fascism’s ideological adaptability proves prescient, recontextualising it as an ideology capable of renewal in moments of crisis. In a period when the boundaries between populism and extremism have become increasingly porous, his framework remains a powerful reminder of how democratic societies can unwittingly absorb and normalise the language of exclusion. That warning, drawn from careful historical comparison, gives the book its lasting urgency beyond its original context. For that reason, his work remains a valuable contribution to both the historiography of fascism and the continuing effort to understand its modern echoes.
April 17, 2020
Useful in presenting a definition of fascism, a word often misunderstood and abused, and in surveying its complex and often chaotic history in Italy, Germany, France and Britain (but not in other countries). Eatwell begins by saying he wants to assess fascism objectively and as a serious body of ideas. The major disappointment is how much of the book is not an analysis of fascist thought and the practices of fascist governments, but a condensed version of more general history, especially of the period 1919-45. Other books do a much better job of describing how fascist governments operated in practice. It's clear that fascist governments tended to spring from violence but that violence is not absolutely necessary as a part of fascist beliefs. Also, fascist movements have invariably been national, while their great arch-enemy of communism (and to some extent socialism) has generally had international ambitions. The final section on post-1945 versions of fascism drifts into a list of individual and party names; many of them are no longer relevant, but this 1995 publication yields an interesting assessment of some trends that have since petered out and others that remain important.
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November 10, 2015Eatwell analyses fascism in four countries; Italy, Germany, France and Britain from early 20th century right up till publication date. His thesis is that fascism flowered in the first two countries because fascism had roots there whereas it didn't in France and England. I don't know what to do with this theory. Fascism was successful where it was successful and wasn't where it wasn't? There is an informative and competent history of right wing politics in each country. In France fascism was only a buffer against possible Communist government and a small number of people in England took it up as a hedge against bad economic times. Once the Communist threat faded in France and the depression passed in England- fascism's allure faded. The author believes a resurgence of fascism is possible minus the religious violence and dictatorship. He writes this in 1996 when the book came out but 20 years later there is still no sign.
July 21, 2022
I highly recommend the first couple chapters. I used this book as a reference for a school project and devoured it end to end. Eatwell’s explanation of fascism is very good, but the history gets touchy with some bias and blindspots.
If you’re unable to read it, let me give you the most important part of this book:
The ideology of fascism has two tenets
1. The presentation of “a holistic-national radical Third Way”
2. “Syncretic legitimation”
The former can be summarized in 4 points:
a) Synthesize progressive and conservative thought to market to everyone, the central message saying that man is constrained, but under the state, can be set free. Both Mussolini and Hitler took validity where they could find it, marketing themselves to progressive and conservative thinkers by making promises and proposing ideas that appealed to them. In this way, fascism has no unifying ideology, but merely acts as a veneer for an authoritarian regime to snatch power wherever able.
b) Geopolitics, or, an increased dependency on the functions of the military as time goes on and other nations, regions, and people groups grow. Fascism is innately dependent on the military due to its aggressive, nationalistic undercurrent. Fascism will use language that heavily favors nationalistic fervor, and it's here where the movement will usually find its scapegoat (mentioned more in the Syncretic Legitimation category below)
c) Both capitalism and communism are weak, so it is the duty of the government to regulate an economy that directly benefits the state. Fascism will always always always prioritize the state over the autonomy of individuals. It is widely agreed upon by scholars that there is no formal economic system under fascism. However, in practice, we see the dictator and his party seize the means of production for complete state control; this also gives them the power to control who is in the work force, who is considered exempt, and whose labor makes their bodies dispensable.
d) A need for propaganda. a charismatic leader, indoctrination of children, regular celebration of the state, with intentional misinformation so the public is not exposed to harsh truths. Google the "Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda," handled by the infamous Joseph Goebbels himself, and see some of the stuff they taught in schools or wanted spread in society. Hitler is also quoted saying, ""A violently active, dominating, intrepid, brutal youth -- that is what I am after. Youth must be all those things. It must be indifferent to pain. There must be no weakness or tenderness in it. I want to see once more in its eyes the gleam of pride and independence of the beast of prey... I will have no intellectual training. Knowledge is ruin to my young men." (Source: "Adolf Hitler and Education." History Learning Site, 9 Mar. 2015, here)
Essentially, the term "holistic-national radical Third Way" defines fascism not as any political party, but an aggressive supreme allegiance to the country above all else. "Syncretic Legitimation", however, is more of a propaganda facet. This claims that citizens must be united under one goal, which is directly tied to self-sufficient statehood. This also allows for the use of a scapegoat that the government can dump all blame onto whenever something goes wrong or attention needs to be diverted. By having a scapegoat, the dictator can also push for purity; in Germany, they wanted to be biologically pure, in Italy, culturally pure. A fascist government (like any authoritarian government) must always have a scapegoat to survive. Once one group is exterminated, another will be chosen, and then another, and then another, on and on and on until the authoritarians are exterminated themselves or everyone below them is dead.
If you can understand this much and know how to use wikipedia, you don't really need to buy this book.
If you’re unable to read it, let me give you the most important part of this book:
The ideology of fascism has two tenets
1. The presentation of “a holistic-national radical Third Way”
2. “Syncretic legitimation”
The former can be summarized in 4 points:
a) Synthesize progressive and conservative thought to market to everyone, the central message saying that man is constrained, but under the state, can be set free. Both Mussolini and Hitler took validity where they could find it, marketing themselves to progressive and conservative thinkers by making promises and proposing ideas that appealed to them. In this way, fascism has no unifying ideology, but merely acts as a veneer for an authoritarian regime to snatch power wherever able.
b) Geopolitics, or, an increased dependency on the functions of the military as time goes on and other nations, regions, and people groups grow. Fascism is innately dependent on the military due to its aggressive, nationalistic undercurrent. Fascism will use language that heavily favors nationalistic fervor, and it's here where the movement will usually find its scapegoat (mentioned more in the Syncretic Legitimation category below)
c) Both capitalism and communism are weak, so it is the duty of the government to regulate an economy that directly benefits the state. Fascism will always always always prioritize the state over the autonomy of individuals. It is widely agreed upon by scholars that there is no formal economic system under fascism. However, in practice, we see the dictator and his party seize the means of production for complete state control; this also gives them the power to control who is in the work force, who is considered exempt, and whose labor makes their bodies dispensable.
d) A need for propaganda. a charismatic leader, indoctrination of children, regular celebration of the state, with intentional misinformation so the public is not exposed to harsh truths. Google the "Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda," handled by the infamous Joseph Goebbels himself, and see some of the stuff they taught in schools or wanted spread in society. Hitler is also quoted saying, ""A violently active, dominating, intrepid, brutal youth -- that is what I am after. Youth must be all those things. It must be indifferent to pain. There must be no weakness or tenderness in it. I want to see once more in its eyes the gleam of pride and independence of the beast of prey... I will have no intellectual training. Knowledge is ruin to my young men." (Source: "Adolf Hitler and Education." History Learning Site, 9 Mar. 2015, here)
Essentially, the term "holistic-national radical Third Way" defines fascism not as any political party, but an aggressive supreme allegiance to the country above all else. "Syncretic Legitimation", however, is more of a propaganda facet. This claims that citizens must be united under one goal, which is directly tied to self-sufficient statehood. This also allows for the use of a scapegoat that the government can dump all blame onto whenever something goes wrong or attention needs to be diverted. By having a scapegoat, the dictator can also push for purity; in Germany, they wanted to be biologically pure, in Italy, culturally pure. A fascist government (like any authoritarian government) must always have a scapegoat to survive. Once one group is exterminated, another will be chosen, and then another, and then another, on and on and on until the authoritarians are exterminated themselves or everyone below them is dead.
If you can understand this much and know how to use wikipedia, you don't really need to buy this book.
July 31, 2023
Interesting read and focusses primarily on the politics of fascism. It also gives a lot of context around the relationship between conservative politics in the latter 21st century and fascism around the courting of voters. The sections around the evolution of fascism as an ideology are extremely interesting and far more nuanced than I ever expected. This book is more based on the political landscape and figures, whilst briefly touching on the rationale behind the ideology. Although other texts are required to get a full understanding, it offers a great introduction to the history of fascism.
We live in a time of uncertainty, and understanding the nature of fascism is extremely important in these times.
We live in a time of uncertainty, and understanding the nature of fascism is extremely important in these times.
August 23, 2017
A detailed introduction that places fascism in its historical context and gives some excellent background detail. Convincing arguments give a real insight into the conditions that created fascism and the divergent fates of German. Italian, French and English variants.
Interesting discussion of the fate of neo-fascism focussed on Italy is good but sidestepped by the past 13 years.
Interesting discussion of the fate of neo-fascism focussed on Italy is good but sidestepped by the past 13 years.
August 20, 2016
A thorough, well-organized history of Fascist movements in Western Europe, but it probably should have been a political study instead. The author's history is a bit clumsy and very dry, while his political writing is incisive. Still worth a read for anyone interested in this topic, suddenly very relevant in the USA.
August 1, 2015
Clear, to the point, and extremely thorough, "Fascism: A History" is a must-read for anyone with an interest in fascist ideology and politics.
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