Armando Cossutta: Beyond “The Last Communist,” A Grandfather’s Legacy Remembered
A decade after his death, the complex life of Italian communist leader Armando Cossutta is revisited through the eyes of his granddaughter, Carlotta Cossutta, revealing a man of unwavering identity, intellectual depth, and surprising personal warmth.
The name Armando Cossutta evokes a range of reactions. To some, he was the “Red Eminence,” to others, “the last communist.” Detractors branded him a “spy in the pay of Moscow,” while comrades simply called him “the Armando.” But for Carlotta Cossutta, a professor of political philosophy at the University of Milan, the man behind the labels was, first and foremost, her grandfather.
A grandfather who remained steadfastly himself. “He always remained the same,” Carlotta recalls. “When he was arrested as a boy, and fascists demanded to know where he hid his weapons, he simply replied: ‘I am Armando Cossutta, born on September 2, 1926, in Milan, raised in Sesto San Giovanni.’ He repeated it, and repeated it, like a litany.” This unwavering declaration of self, she explains, was his defining characteristic – a stubborn clinging to identity in the face of adversity.
Carlotta first grasped the weight of her grandfather’s public role as a child, attending demonstrations in Milan’s Piazza Duomo. “If you get lost, look for your grandfather,” her parents told her. One year, she did get lost, and found him on stage, surrounded by a sea of people. “I realized how many people there were, that many were there for him. I understood that a public space existed and that my grandfather, in that space, occupied a role.”
His life was steeped in the struggles of the Italian Resistance. He embraced anti-fascism as a student, discovering Marx’s Manifesto in an appendix to a text by Benedetto Croce that had circumvented censorship. Arrested before reaching the age of compulsory military service, he endured a harrowing experience – a mock execution. “He was taken to the courtyard of the Monza barracks, facing a firing squad,” Carlotta recounts. “A worker next to him shook his hand and whispered, ‘Don’t worry, it only lasts a moment.’ Then, they shot in the air.”
The ordeal left a lasting mark. While Cossutta survived, his vision was severely impaired after his glasses were broken in prison, leaving him nearly blind for months. Tragically, the worker who offered him solace was later deported to Auschwitz and perished.
Bearing the weight of a politically charged surname brought both affection and prejudice. “I have experienced the affection of many people in the most unlikely places,” Carlotta says. “But you also discover the prejudice. The headmaster of Parini, a staunch MSI supporter, called me a Stalinist when I was fourteen.” She also faced accusations from within the left, with some suggesting her grandfather sought to replace Enrico Berlinguer.
Despite these criticisms, Cossutta remained committed to his principles. While condemning the crimes of the Soviet regime, he viewed the October Revolution as a pivotal moment in history. He engaged with world leaders, including Yasser Arafat and Fidel Castro, exchanging greetings on their shared birthdays. His visits to the Soviet Union were marked by a peculiar blend of hospitality and scrutiny, including a medical check-up and a stay at a spa, reflecting the Soviet belief that Western leaders lacked adequate care. He observed that even seemingly minor details – seating arrangements, toasts – held significant meaning.
He famously avoided a potentially awkward encounter with Leonid Brezhnev, skillfully sidestepping the customary mouth-to-mouth greeting.
Cossutta’s political life wasn’t confined to international diplomacy. He was a central figure in the tumultuous events of 1969, when 45,000 workers from Sesto San Giovanni occupied factories and took to the streets. A deputy commissioner, mistaking him for a doctor, offered his services, to which the 21-year-old section secretary replied, “I’m not a doctor.” Despite lacking a formal education, Cossutta possessed a profound cultural knowledge, immersing himself in classical literature and opera. He was even seen rereading Tacitus at the age of 89, and a cherished copy of the Divine Comedy accompanied him during his imprisonment at San Vittore.
Beyond politics and literature, Cossutta had a passion for football, specifically Inter Milan. “Inter was perhaps the only flaw in his rationality,” Carlotta laughs. He was a superstitious fan, attending matches even in his old age, and only allowing fellow Inter supporters to join him – with one exception for his Roma-supporting cousin.
His football allegiance even led to a legal dispute with Silvio Berlusconi, who falsely accused Cossutta of organizing armed gangs. Berlusconi later retracted the statement, acknowledging Cossutta’s dedication to Italian democracy.
Cossutta’s public persona was also famously parodied by comedian Teo Teocoli, a tribute he greatly enjoyed. However, he also faced harsh criticism, particularly after the G8 summit in Genoa.
Despite a busy public life, Carlotta remembers a present and affectionate grandfather. They spent summers together at their beach house in Bonassola, Liguria, where he sent a fax announcing his departure from Rifondazione Comunista after withdrawing support for the Prodi government. His decision fueled the narrative of his intransigence, but he maintained that he wished to be remembered as someone loyal to his youthful ideals.
“He believed in shared happiness,” Carlotta says. While politics permeated their conversations, he never attempted to indoctrinate her. “They painted him as a dark, grim man, an apparatchik. Instead, he was a person open to young people, to dialogue, to the future.” He even surprised many by attending the Rome Pride in 2001, accompanied by his grandmother, who opted for a fuchsia umbrella.
Cossutta’s personal style was understated and modest, eschewing the ostentation of some politicians. He preferred a simple uniform of familiar clothes. He didn’t embrace the polished image of someone like Aldo Moro, but believed his role demanded a moderate presentation.
In an era of social media, Carlotta believes her grandfather would have been out of place. “He was a man who loved reflecting, pondering, the written word. He sent telegrams or wrote letters. I can’t imagine him posting a selfie with risotto and ossobuco.”
He passed away ten years ago, leaving behind a legacy of composure, coherence, and love. Carlotta remembers their afternoons eating hazelnut ice cream – a private moment between grandfather and granddaughter. His life, she concludes, was a testament to the enduring power of identity, principle, and a quiet, unwavering commitment to a better world.
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December 14, 2025 (changed December 14, 2025 | 08:05)
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