Amy Harmon explores a lesser-known part of Holocaust history, focusing on the lives of Jewish people in Italy, whose persecution was unique compared to other European Jewish communities. Italy has one of Europe’s oldest continuous Jewish communities, dating back to pre-Christian Roman times. In the early 16th century, Jewish life in Rome was diverse, with at least seven synagogues representing different communities. This diversity resulted from centuries of migration, expulsion, and resettlement along the Italian peninsula. In 1516, Venice established the first official ghetto, confining about 700 Jewish people to Ghetto Novo. Rome followed in 1555 when Pope Paul IV’s papal bull forced 2,000 Jewish people into a walled ghetto. Though restrictive, these ghettos preserved Jewish communities and culture for centuries, and were later targeted for destruction during the Holocaust.

During World War II, antisemitism was not initially part of Mussolini’s fascist platform. For nearly 16 years after the fascist rise to power in 1922, Jewish Italians had equal status in the fascist state. Jewish people could join the Fascist Party, serve in the military, hold government positions, and participate fully in Italian society. While Mussolini initially criticized Germany’s racist policies and supported Italy’s Jewish population, Italian fascism had racist foundations from its beginning. Mussolini used claims of Italian cultural and spiritual superiority to justify colonial aggression in the Balkans, especially in Croatia and Slovenia. Italy’s Romani and Sinti peoples, marginalized for centuries, faced even more systematic persecution under Mussolini. Italian colonialism in Africa relied on explicitly racist claims of white supremacy and posited a hierarchy among Africans in which North Africans were considered superior to the people of Italian East Africa (a colony of Fascist Italy in the Horn of Africa from 1936 to 1941). Despite all this, Italy’s Jewish people were not initially targeted for persecution, and thousands of Jewish Italians genuinely believed Mussolini would restore Italy’s greatness as their leader. They saw themselves not as a separate minority, but as Italian patriots who happened to be Jewish.

In 1938, pressured by Nazi Germany and eager to show their revolutionary credentials, Italy’s fascist regime enacted the Racial Laws, which systematically stripped Jewish citizens of rights. Jewish children were expelled from schools, professionals were barred from jobs, businesses were confiscated or “Aryanized,” and Jewish people were forbidden from marrying non-Jewish people. These laws defined who was Jewish based on racial, not religious, criteria, targeting even converts or non-practicing Jewish people. Most Jewish Italians, who considered themselves Italian first and Jewish second, were taken aback. Many traced their ancestry in Italy back to Roman times. The laws not only legalized discrimination but also rejected their Italian identity and belonging.

When Germany occupied much of Italy in 1943 after Italy’s armistice with the Allies, the situation for Jewish Italians became extremely dangerous. The Nazis, supported by Italian fascist collaborators, began systematic roundups for deportation to death camps. While many Italians were involved in the Holocaust, Italy is also known as the Axis power that helped Jewish people the most. This paradox reflects the diverse experiences across regions, social classes, and circumstances. Some Italians, including officials, clergy, and citizens, risked their lives to help Jewish people hide or escape, while others collaborated with Nazis. The Catholic Church’s role was complex; while the Vatican stayed neutral, many clergy, like Angelo, formed part of an anti-fascist coalition that included diverse groups and interests united by their opposition to Mussolini’s regime. Priests and other members of the Church worked to save Jewish people by providing false papers, hiding them in convents, or organizing escape routes. Estimates suggest that Catholic institutions saved thousands of Jewish Italians during the war. Unlike in Eastern and Central Europe, where antisemitism was deeply rooted, Italian antisemitism was mainly imposed from above. Many Italians had lived peacefully with Jewish neighbors and hesitated to participate in persecution. This cultural context explains both the survival chances and the moral complexity in Harmon’s novel.

By the war’s end, approximately 7,500 Jewish Italians had been murdered in the Holocaust, or about 20% of the pre-war population. While this percentage was lower than in most other Nazi-occupied countries, the loss was devastating for a relatively small community. Entire families, neighborhoods, and cultural traditions were destroyed. Today, Italy’s Jewish population numbers around 45,000, representing a community that has survived nearly two millennia of challenges while maintaining its distinct Italian Jewish identity. The survivors and their descendants carry the memory of a rich pre-war Jewish life that was almost extinguished, as well as the complex legacy of survival, collaboration, and resistance during the darkest period of their history (Gruber, R. E. “The Jews of Italy.” My Jewish Learning).