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The Enemy. In four years, Communism had established its own Vatican (a shiny, modern office building), its own Pope (Palmiro Togliatti), its own hierarchy of spiritual and secular servants. One of the most important was Luigi ("The Cock") Longo, a man with a sharp, beaked face, who is generalissimo of Italian Communism's army. His partisans, who never surrendered the arms with which they fought the Germans, are estimated at 150,000. Daily, Italian police were finding more of Longo's arms caches; no one knew how many they failed to find. Longo's men face 400,000 government soldiers and policemen, who are believed overwhelmingly loyal to the government. If the Communists lose at the polls and decide to "correct" their defeat through open violence, Longo would be the key man.
Another Communist servant who symbolized Pope Palmiro's strength even better was Giuseppe di Vittorio, brassknuckled labor leader, who controls most of Italy's labor unions; through them he can cripple Italy's entire industry. This week, as a small sample of what he could do, he led a one-hour nationwide general strike. If the Communists decide to use strikes and sabotage rather than open violence, Di Vittorio would be the key man.
And Communism had fervent working allies: the left wing of Italian Socialism, under Pietro Nenni, had joined the Reds in a formidable Popular Front.
The Hungry Angels. Against these men and their human machine stood great forces. One was the force symbolized by the U.S. Embassy. Italians like America; they have at least an inkling of what American democracy is about. How, then, were the Communists able to stand up against American influence? Partly it was America's own doing. The U.S. had never effectively advertised the nature or the extensive amount of its help, or the peaceful intentions of its purpose. Above all, the U.S. was remote and rich. The Communists adroitly played on these facts, and on Italy's fears. A remark which one Italian woman made last week told a good deal about the difficulty of getting through to Europeans. Said she: "If there is a war, what is left of our homes and towns will be utterly destroyed. Then America will say 'Have courage!'"
Then there was the force symbolized by the Vatican's majestic citadel. Perhaps the most significant political event of recent times was the Vatican's decision, while waiting for the City of God, to fight once more for the City of Man. It had openly entered politics. Italian priests issued a solemn warning: Communism is sin. Could the Communists stand up against such a moral thunderbolt?
The Reds were replying, to Christians who would listen, that they were not atheists at all. They had all but dropped the hammer & sickle as a party emblem, used pictures of Garibaldi instead. To others, they simply promised houses, land, food; many Italians could not understand why voting for such things was a sin. They had developed the egotism of misery, like the sufferers in the Inferno whom Dante described as "that caitiff choir of the angels, who were not rebellious, nor were faithful to God; but were for themselves."
Could Italy's anti-Communist forces redeem these hungry angels? Could they cut the Red tentacles which, gripping every part of Italy's land and life, choked both bodies and souls?