San Domino
Content warning for prison, Holocaust
"In those days, if you were a femmenella [obviously gay], you couldn’t even leave your home, or make yourself noticed — the police would arrest you.
On the island, on the other hand, we would celebrate our Saint’s days or the arrival of someone new. We did theatre, and we could dress as women there and no-one would say anything."
– Giuseppe B.
From 1938-1939, San Domino in Italy was designated an internal exile exclusively for queer people. What began as an attempt to exclude any men who didn’t fit the fascistic ideal of perfect masculinity, ended as a glimpse of the queer community in an impossible time. Equally a prison and a carved-out space where queer people connected in hostile circumstances, San Domino proves the resilience of the queer community.
The story begins in Italy in 1938. Hitler was coming into power along with another man of infamy: Benito Mussolini. One of Mussolini's many visions for Italy's future was to present a country filled with "perfect" men. His idea of a perfect man was clear: husband, father, soldier, and as close to the fascistic ideal of masculinity as possible. In his mind, gay men tainted his perfect country. Thus, he planned to eradicate gay men from Italy, all the while denying their existence.
He wanted the world and his citizens to believe Italy was a state of perfection. Because of this, he was unable to pass any official laws against homosexuality. Instead, he forced many suspected queer people and other political opponents into what was called "internal exile." He used Italian islands such as Ustica, Lampedusa, and San Domino to house these people. In addition to its intended purpose as a prison, San Domino became Italy's first recorded exclusively queer community.
This is not to say San Domino was a perfect place; it was still a prison. Queer people were taken from their friends and families and arrived in handcuffs, living under constant supervision from guards. They were stripped of their freedoms, given no access to running water or electricity, forced to follow strict curfews, and told that their country was ashamed of their existence.
Still, due to Italy's hyper-religious, ultra-conservative mindset in the late 1930s, many prisoners saw San Domino as something of an escape. They were placed in the company of others like them and were allowed, for the first time, to embrace their identities and desires openly. Relationships began, queer-positive theatre thrived, and a strong community was formed out of the adversity set forth by the Italian government. The people of San Domino did not fade away as Mussolini intended; they flourished. As they had many times throughout history, queer people took what they were given and created something beautiful.
Unfortunately, this moment of relative safety in seclusion would not last. With the beginning of World War II in 1939, the internal exiles ended. Prisoners were placed on house arrest, and there is little record of their lives following the island. Upon returning to society, very few individuals remained open about their identities. This return to secrecy, along with the scarce records from the camps, limits knowledge of any specifics following the island.
Perhaps the most telling moment was when the prisoners found out they were going to be taken back to their homes; they wept. These people found happiness, in a place meant to break them. The idea of returning to a country that despised and limited them was heartbreaking. Though not in the way he had intended, Mussolini succeeded in devastating the community.
Unsurprisingly, the queer community has not let its history be forgotten. Plaques have been placed in memory of the queer prisoners of San Domino. In 2005, activists forced the Italian government to acknowledge the atrocities they had committed against queer people.
The story of San Domino remains a tremendous one. The establishment and destruction of this community took a single year, but it represents something much larger: the resilience of the queer community and the subversion of the hatred that would strike them down. Persecuted by their own country, these queer people found a home in each other. They found safety and joy in people rather than physical spaces.
Through all the adversity and horrific injustice levelled at the queer community, the queer community finds strength in solidarity. Generations of queer people have done it before, and the record of such stories will continue to inspire the community in this modern era.
This moment of togetherness is a tradition that defines the queer community. That is the message we want to impart unto our readers as we continue; however dark the stories we share become, know that we have always built homes from prisons. Nothing has broken us yet, and nothing will.
REFERENCES AND FURTHER READING
Disclaimer: some of the sources may contain triggering material
Adnum, M. (2017, December 26). The Fascinating Tale of Fascist Italy’s All-Gay Island Paradise. Huffpost. Retrieved from https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-fascinating-tale-of-fascist-italys-all-gay-island-paradise_b_3762301
De Santis, L., & Colaone, S. (2008). In Italia Sono Tutti Maschi. Bologna: Kappa Edizioni
Ištok, R. (2018). 06. From San Sebastiano to San Domino (Interventions). https://www.daas.academy/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/08From-San-Sebastiano-to-San-Domino_compressed.pdf
Johnston, A. (2013, June 13). A gay island community created by Italy's Fascists. BBC News. Retrieved from https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-22856586
Lubbe, F. (2014, April 30). San Domino — The World’s First Exclusive Gay Community? HotSaltBeef&Mustard. Retrieved from https://hotsaltbeefandmustard.com/san-domino-gay-island-during-world-war-2/
Padilla, L. (2015, August 18). How Mussolini Created A Gay Island Community. Seeker. Retrieved from https://www.seeker.com/how-mussolini-created-a-gay-island-community-1501527926.html