Tunisia enters the narrative as the destination of Margherita Sarfatti’s journey with her son Amedeo: a voyage presented as intellectual inquiry but also bound up with her effort to claim independence from Benito Mussolini. Its significance lies in the reversal surrounding the trip—first a permission he repeatedly withheld, then a departure he allowed—and in the successful book Sarfatti produced after returning.

A journey framed as inquiry

Sarfatti’s proposed visit to Tunisia was part of what the narrative presents as her life as a free woman and voracious intellectual. She planned to travel with Amedeo, her son, and described the purpose in practical terms: investigating schools, hospitals, and the real-estate market in Italy’s overseas territories. The account makes clear that this was also a pretext, only thinly concealing a broader desire to travel and pursue her own interests.

That combination matters to the way Tunisia functions in the story. It is not described through its landscape or local society; instead, it appears through Sarfatti’s plans and the conflict over whether she may go. The destination becomes a measure of the room she can claim for intellectual work and movement beyond the demands of her relationship.

Permission and departure

Mussolini, depicted as possessive, jealous, and despotic in the relationship, had repeatedly refused to let Sarfatti make the journey. Their conflict belonged to a recurring pattern: she could offer herself to him in self-sacrifice, yet at other moments demanded independence, respect, dignity, and a share of power—his in politics, hers in art. The Tunisia request gave that struggle a concrete destination and a practical test.

When spring came, Mussolini finally granted permission, and Sarfatti left for Africa. The eventual consent does not erase the earlier refusals; the narrative presents departure as the outcome of prolonged emotional bargaining, not as an uncomplicated freedom of movement.

The journey’s return

The trip proved fruitful in a way that went beyond the journey itself: after returning from Tunisia, Sarfatti produced a successful book. Its success confirms the intellectual purpose that had accompanied her request, even as the account notes that the proposed inquiries into schools, hospitals, and property had also served as a cover for her wider ambitions.

Later, when Mussolini was anxious about the looming elections and focused on securing absolute power, Sarfatti again spoke of travel and distant destinations, including African deserts. This time he urged her to leave. The change in who sought and granted departure marks a reversal in their relationship. Sarfatti set off again, but that subsequent journey did not reach Tunisia: she arrived in Spain, fell while descending the stairs of a luxury hotel, and broke her leg. The two journeys therefore remain distinct—the earlier Tunisian trip yielded a book, while the later attempt ended in injury elsewhere.