Schoolbooks, Monuments, Memory (1870–1914)

Episode Narrative

In the late 19th and early 20th century, two emerging nations, Italy and Germany, navigated uncharted waters in their quest for identity. This era, marked by tremendous upheaval and transformation, was not simply a struggle against external forces; it was also a profound journey inward. Both countries grappled with the very essence of what it meant to be a nation, and education played a pivotal role in this unfolding narrative.

In 1859, the establishment of the Casati Law marked a seminal moment for Italy. This legislation laid the groundwork for a national system of primary education, making Italian the language of instruction. This was no mere administrative change; it was a bold statement, a declaration that a common language could weave together the vast and diverse tapestry of the Italian people. At the time, Italy was fragmented, a collection of various states and dialects. The aim was clear: create a unified national identity through standardized schoolbooks and curricula. But the challenge was immense. Only a small fraction of the population spoke standard Italian at home, leaving educators and policymakers to contemplate how to bridge this linguistic chasm.

Simultaneously, in the heart of Central Europe, the German Empire, a nation still finding its footing, faced its own set of challenges. By 1870, the Kulturkampf laws emerged, targeting the realm of education. The intention was straightforward, if not contentious: to bring Catholic education under the stringent control of the state. In classrooms across Germany, the use of German was reinforced, promoting an educational model rooted in secular nationalism. This movement was not just about the curriculum; it reshaped the very philosophy of Bildung, or education, transforming it into a tool for nationalist ideals.

As these educational initiatives took root, foundational figures emerged to guide the young nations. In Italy, Giuseppe Mazzini rose to prominence with his writings, especially the 1831 manifesto “Young Italy.” His passion for republican ideals and civic duty resonated within the walls of schools, igniting the imaginations of countless students. Mazzini portrayed education as essential for the growth of responsible citizens, framing the passion for republicanism as a philosophical cornerstone of the budding Italian identity.

In Germany, the Newton of education was Wilhelm von Humboldt. His reforms, initiated in the early 1800s, emphasized classical humanism and the development of individuals as citizens. Humboldt believed that education must cultivate not just knowledge, but wisdom. It was his vision that shaped the philosophical underpinnings of German Bildung, encouraging students to see themselves as integral parts of society.

In the years that followed, monumental structures began to emerge in both nations, commemorating their transformative journeys. In Italy, the Vittoriano monument in Rome, inaugurated in 1911, became a symbol of the Risorgimento — Italy's unification movement. Crafted to embody these ideals, it featured sculptures that immortalized national heroes like Mazzini, Garibaldi, and Cavour. Each inscription resonated with the echoes of a shared struggle, while the physical form of the monument stood as a testament to the aspirations of a people emerging into their collective identity.

Across the Alps, Germany, too, celebrated its achievements. The Niederwalddenkmal, completed in 1883, cast Germania — the personification of the German nation — in an elevated embrace, symbolizing the unification of various states into one. This statue wasn’t just a work of art; it was a physical manifestation of the collective memory, a reminder of the struggle for national unity and the ideological battles fought to achieve it.

As the clocks ticked toward the dawn of the 20th century, the framing of history in educational settings became increasingly vital. In Italy, by 1880, schoolbooks began to portray the Risorgimento as a heroic struggle where figures like Mazzini and Garibaldi were elevated to philosopher-heroes, embodying the virtues of sacrifice and patriotism. The narratives crafted within those pages would shape the perceptions of generations.

In contrast, German textbooks from the 1870s onward emphasized the philosophical legacies of thinkers such as Kant, Hegel, and Fichte. They framed the nation’s unification as not merely a political act but the fulfillment of Enlightenment ideals. Lessons became infused with grandeur as young minds were molded to understand their role in a grand historical project.

Rituals of national belonging began to take root in schools of both nations. In Italy during the 1890s, the daily flag salute was introduced, intending to instill loyalty among students. Each pledge echoed the philosophical language of the Risorgimento, crafting a fabric of commitment to the state. Meanwhile, in German classrooms, the singing of patriotic songs like “Deutschlandlied” became a daily occurrence, reinforcing the idea of the nation as a moral and cultural community. These rituals served as threads that stitched individuals into the larger narrative of their nations.

Yet, not all voices in these burgeoning nations were in agreement. The Italian philosopher Benedetto Croce, writing in the early 1900s, offered a critical perspective. He contended that education was sometimes being used to promote a mythologized version of the Risorgimento. True philosophy, according to Croce, demanded a critical engagement with history, not a blind acceptance of glorified narratives.

In Germany, philosophers like Wilhelm Dilthey, active in the late 1800s, emphasized the importance of historical consciousness. They argued that education should serve as a lens through which to understand national identity, shaping the curricula that would prepare future generations to comprehend their place in the world.

Challenges persisted, however. The Italian government’s census of 1881 revealed a disheartening truth: only 2.5% of the population spoke standard Italian at home. This statistic highlighted the complexities inherent in creating a unified national identity through educational means. Standardization of language, while noble in intention, faced the hard reality of a deeply divided social landscape.

Across the border, the late 1890s in Germany saw the rise of youth movements such as the Wandervogel, inspired by the philosophical ideals of nationalism and Bildung. These organizations sought to engage the young beyond the confines of classrooms, promoting outdoor activities coupled with patriotic education. This movement not only enriched their understanding of nationhood but also developed a rebellious spirit that questioned the status quo.

As time progressed, thinkers like Antonio Gramsci began to reflect on the role of education in shaping national consciousness. Born in 1891, Gramsci observed how the unification of Italy cultivated a “national-popular” culture through the dissemination of standardized textbooks. According to him, the schools played a crucial role in creating a collective identity among Italians, blurring the lines between education and national narrative.

Philosophy continued to evolve under the tension of these educational efforts. In Germany, Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s 1808 “Addresses to the German Nation” became a key text in schools, promoting the view of the nation as a spiritual and cultural entity, rather than a mere political construct. Fichte's ideas encouraged students to think of themselves as part of a living, breathing community, bound by shared history and culture.

Meanwhile, Italian thinkers like Giambattista Vico, whose works found renewed interest in the 1800s, brought yet another perspective to the educational landscape. Vico emphasized the cyclical nature of civilizations and the intrinsic value of national myths, shaping how history was taught in Italian schools. His thoughts pushed educators to consider history not as a linear progression but as a series of interconnected stories that define the collective experience of a people.

Yet, voices of dissent echoed in both nations. Friedrich Nietzsche, writing in the 1880s, critiqued the state’s manipulation of education to promote nationalism. He insisted that true philosophy needed a critical distance from the nation-state, advocating instead for individual reflection and understanding.

In Italy, Cesare Lombroso, active in the late 1800s, applied positivist philosophy to the study of crime and society. His influence shaped how social sciences were taught, making the subject matter a powerful tool for understanding behaviors in the context of a newly unified nation.

By the early 1900s, the philosophical landscape remained vibrant and contentious. German philosopher Ernst Troeltsch, analyzing the consequences of unification, explored education’s role in forging a national identity. He argued that it was necessary to understand the nation as a historical and cultural community, a view that resonated deeply in a time of profound change.

As these two nations navigated the complexities of education, monuments, and memory, they grappled with the question: what does it truly mean to be a nation? The answers, inscribed in schoolbooks and celebrated in illustrious monuments, continue to resonate even today. For in seeking to define their identities, both Italy and Germany illuminated the fragile, intricate tapestry that forms the foundation of modern nationhood. These efforts to create and commemorate collective memory serve as a mirror reflecting not just who they were then, but who they strive to be now. And so, in the echo of school bells and the shadows of monumental statues, the quest for understanding persists, urging us to consider our connections to the past as we forge our paths forward.