THE DAY OF REMEMBRANCE TOO LONG FORGOTTEN - Francesco Mancini - ETHICA SOCIETAS-Rivista di scienze umane e sociali

The Julian-Dalmatian Exodus Between History, Politics, and Denied Memory

Abstract: The Day of Remembrance, established in Italy by Law No. 92 of 30 March 2004, is dedicated to the memory of the victims of the foibe massacres and of the Julian-Dalmatian exodus, one of the most significant forced migrations in twentieth-century Europe. This article examines the historical and political context that led to the displacement of hundreds of thousands of Italians from Istria, Fiume, and Dalmatia, focusing on the long-standing processes of removal, denigration, and instrumentalization that have accompanied this history. The exodus emerges not only as a historical tragedy, but as a critical test of a democratic community’s ability to acknowledge its own wounds without bending them to ideological narratives.

Keywords: #DayOfRemembrance #JulianDalmatianExodus #Foibe #EthnicCleansing #HistoricalMemory #InternationalLaw #ForcedMigration #CollectiveResponsibility #FrancescoMancini #EthicaSocietas #EthicaSocietasReview #ScientificReview #SocialSciences #ethicasocietasupli

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THE MEANING OF THE DAY OF REMEMBRANCE

10 February, the date of the signing of the Paris Peace Treaty of 1947, symbolically marks Italy’s loss of large portions of its eastern border and the definitive beginning of a process of forced displacement affecting the Italian populations of Istria, Fiume, and Dalmatia. The Day of Remembrance, established by Law No. 92 of 30 March 2004, seeks to fill a profound gap in Italy’s public memory by officially acknowledging a tragedy that for decades remained at the margins of historical and political discourse.[1] It is not an identity-based commemoration, but an act of civic responsibility, aimed at restoring dignity to a history long removed, minimized, or reduced to a secondary episode.

THE HISTORICAL ROOTS OF THE EXODUS

The Julian-Dalmatian exodus was not a sudden event, but the outcome of a long and stratified process rooted in the complexity of the eastern Adriatic border, an area characterized by linguistic, cultural, and national pluralism. After the First World War, the annexation to Italy of multiethnic territories generated tensions and policies of forced assimilation that fueled unresolved conflicts. The Second World War, the Italian occupation of Yugoslavia, and the subsequent advance of Tito’s Yugoslav partisan forces created the conditions for a radical political and ethnic reconfiguration of the region.[2]

Within this context emerged both the violence of the foibe and the decision by approximately 250,000–300,000 people to abandon their homelands out of fear of persecution, discrimination, repression, or systematic loss of civil rights.[3]

FOIBE, POLITICAL VIOLENCE, AND THE NUMBERS OF THE TRAGEDY

The foibe represent one of the most extreme expressions of political violence in the period between 1943 and 1945 and in the immediate post-war years. The victims included military personnel and civilians, fascist officials as well as ordinary citizens, targeted not for individual actions but for real or presumed membership in a national, social, or political group.

Historically accredited estimates speak of several thousand victims, with figures ranging between 4,000 and 10,000, including executions, deportations, and deaths in Yugoslav prison camps.[4] The variability of these figures does not justify denial or trivialization; rather, it reflects the documentary difficulties and chaos of a historical phase marked by revenge, purges, and systemic violence.

THE POST-WAR POLITICAL CONTEXT AND THE LOGIC OF ETHNO-POLITICAL CLEANSING

In the post-war period, the establishment of socialist Yugoslavia and the redefinition of borders imposed a new political and ideological order. In many areas, pressure exerted on Italian populations took the form of ethno-political cleansing, aimed at permanently altering the demographic composition and eliminating potential sources of dissent.[5]

For many, the choice was effectively forced: to remain while accepting progressive marginalization, or to leave, relinquishing property, work, homes, and roots. The exodus was not merely a migration, but an identity uprooting that affected entire communities and extended over more than a decade.

RECEPTION, REFUGEE CAMPS, AND BLAME IN ITALY

The arrival of exiles in Italy did not lead to immediate integration. On the contrary, many were placed in refugee camps, often under precarious conditions, and faced suspicion, isolation, and social marginalization.[6]

In a country marked by reconstruction and deep ideological divisions, exiles were at times blamed, portrayed as “fleeing fascists” or politically suspect subjects. Their experience was frequently interpreted not as the result of violence suffered, but as an opportunistic choice, producing a second victimization: that of invisibility and delegitimization.

REMOVAL, DENIGRATION, AND INSTITUTIONAL SILENCE

For decades, the Julian-Dalmatian exodus was subject to systematic removal. The reasons were multiple: the Cold War, Yugoslavia’s strategic role, and the discomfort of confronting a history that challenged consolidated political narratives.

In certain cultural and academic contexts, the memory of the exiles was denigrated or minimized, accused of being instrumental or revisionist.[7] This silence was not neutral: it delayed public recognition and contributed to a profound fracture in national memory.

INTERNATIONAL LEGAL FRAMEWORK

The term ethnic cleansing does not constitute an autonomous legal category, but describes practices attributable to crimes against humanity, war crimes, and in some cases genocide. From a comparative perspective, European historiography has shown how policies of expulsion and demographic engineering traversed the entire twentieth century, functioning as recurring instruments of forced state- and border-building, particularly in the Balkan and East-Central European regions.[8]

The deportation or forcible transfer of civilian populations qualifies as a crime against humanity under Article 7 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.[9] Although the events of the exodus occurred prior to the full codification of international human rights law, they can today be interpreted in light of consolidated principles of human dignity and non-discrimination.

THE RIGHT TO TRUTH AND THE RECOGNITION OF VICTIMS

In contemporary international law, the right to truth has emerged as the right of victims and society as a whole to know the circumstances and responsibilities surrounding serious violations.[10]

Public recognition of the victims of the Julian-Dalmatian exodus constitutes a form of symbolic reparation and an implementation of this right. Memory, in this perspective, is not a political concession, but a legal and moral duty.

MEMORY, FOIBE, AND THE POLITICAL USE OF THE PAST

The Day of Remembrance brings together two distinct yet interconnected dimensions: the foibe and the exodus. The risk of simplified or ideologically polarized memory remains high.

Competition between memories—between Italian and Slavic victims, between fascist crimes and post-war violence—impoverishes historical understanding. A mature memory acknowledges fascist responsibilities in the Balkans while rejecting any logic of moral compensation that justifies new violence or the erasure of the exiles’ suffering. History is not an ideological tribunal, but a space of shared responsibility.

THE CIVIC AND DEMOCRATIC VALUE OF REMEMBRANCE

Memory does not serve only a retrospective function. The recognition of past practices of ethno-political cleansing and forced migration performs a preventive role, strengthening democratic safeguards against new forms of exclusion. Legally relevant memory does not impose a state-sanctioned truth, but establishes an inviolable limit: respect for human dignity and the rejection of violence as an instrument of demographic engineering.

Remembering the Julian-Dalmatian exodus means recognizing the right to memory of those forced to abandon their land, language, and cultural identity. In this sense, the Day of Remembrance speaks not only to the past, but directly to the present.

EDUCATING FOR COMPLEXITY

The transmission of the memory of the Julian-Dalmatian exodus to younger generations requires an educational approach grounded in historical complexity, understood not as the accumulation of data, but as the ability to hold together contradictions, multiple levels of responsibility, and plural perspectives. As Edgar Morin has emphasized,[11] knowledge that separates, simplifies, and reduces produces blindness, whereas only a connective mode of thinking enables genuine understanding of historical and social phenomena. Educating for remembrance therefore means teaching how to think history as a complex system, assuming memory not as an identity device, but as a space of cognitive and ethical responsibility.

CONCLUSIONS

The Day of Remembrance represents a fundamental step in the construction of a more inclusive and responsible public memory. The Julian-Dalmatian exodus and the foibe are not marginal pages of Italian history, but deep wounds that affected the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. Remembering them means restoring dignity to a long-denied history and reaffirming the principle that no community can be erased without consequences. In an age that tends to instrumentalize history as a tool of conflict, remembrance remains an act of democratic responsibility.

NOTE

[1] Legge 30 marzo 2004, n. 92, Istituzione del Giorno del Ricordo.

[2] Raoul Pupo, Foibe (Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2003).

[3] Guido Crainz, Il dolore e l’esilio. L’Istria e le memorie divise d’Europa (Roma: Donzelli, 2005).

[4] Gianni Oliva, Foibe. Le stragi negate degli italiani della Venezia Giulia e dell’Istria (Milano: Mondadori, 2002).

[5] Pamela Ballinger, History in Exile: Memory and Identity at the Borders of the Balkans (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003).

[6] Marina Cattaruzza, L’Italia e il confine orientale (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2007).

[7] Eric Gobetti, E allora le foibe? (Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2020).

[8] Sulla comparazione tra migrazioni forzate, pulizia etnica e costruzione della memoria nei Balcani del Novecento, si veda Mark Mazower, Dark Continent: Europe’s Twentieth Century (London: Penguin Books, 1998), capp. 4–6.

[9] International Criminal Court, Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, art. 7 (1998).

[10] United Nations Human Rights Council, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Promotion of Truth, Justice, Reparation and Guarantees of Non-Recurrence (A/HRC/21/46, 2012).

[11] Edgar Morin, La testa ben fatta. Riforma dell’insegnamento e riforma del pensiero, trad. it. di Andrea Serra (Milano: Raffaello Cortina Editore, 2000).