Italian Tunisians: Colonization without Colonialism

The earliest Italian presence in Tunisia dates back to the Genoese settlement on the island of Tabarka, (Arabic: Ṭbarqa) is a coastal town located in north-western Tunisia, close to the border with Algeria. Here, the Italian Lomellini family maintained a coral‑fishing concession from the 16th to the 18th century. The ruins of their fort and church still stand, silent reminders of a time long lost when Italian influence arrived not through armed forces but through trade and maritime endeavours.

[Tarbarka island, 17th century, with a Genoese flag flying over the castle.]

By the 19th century, migration accelerated dramatically. Italians fleeing political upheaval after the 1848 revolutions found refuge in Tunis, joining earlier communities of Livornese Jews and others. Italian became a commercial lingua franca across the Maghreb, and by the early 20th century Tunisia hosted one of the largest Italian communities in North Africa. In 1911, more than 88,000 Italians lived in the country, which was remarkable because the region was under French control.

Italian Tunisians lived in a delicate balance between Italy’s (territorial) ambitions and France’s protectorate. Their schools, associations, and commercial networks flourished, but they also had to navigated political tensions, especially during the rise of fascism. Italian societies in Tunesia became hubs of cultural identity, while anti‑fascist groups emerged quietly in response to Mussolini’s continued rise to power.

In her 2026 study 'The Italian diaspora in Tunisia: colonization without colonialism', anthropologist Gloria Frisone shows how the community developed a 'colonial mindset without a colony' [1]. It was a sense of cultural superiority and Mediterranean belonging that did not rely on formal Italian conquest and rule. Frisone’s investigated the people in La Goulette, a municipality of Tunis and once nicknamed 'La Petite Sicile'. She reveals how older families still speak of Tunisia as a place they 'civilized', even as they were themselves migrants under French authority. This paradox, feeling privileged, yet being powerless, shaped their identity for generations.

A major turning point was Tunisian independence in 1956, when the Italian community suddenly found itself without the legal protections and economic privileges it had enjoyed under the French. Land reforms, nationalizations, and the closure of Italian schools, created a climate of uncertainty. France actively encouraged Italians to relocate to France or Algeria. Many families, already navigating between French authority and Italian heritage, chose to leave before the new state consolidated its institutions. As Frisone's research shows, this exodus was not only political or economic but also generational: younger Italians increasingly sought opportunities abroad, leaving behind a community that could no longer reproduce itself socially. The size of the Italian Tunisian community dropped sharply, from more than 60,000 residents to just a few thousand within a decade. Yet its legacy remains visible in architecture, in family names, and in the cafés of La Goulette.

However, their culinary heritage remained. In La Goulette pasta dishes, seafood preparations, and even certain pastries kept an unmistakable Italian accent. Tunisians still prepare makrouna (pasta with spicy tomato sauce), pasta with harissa and seafood, and oven‑baked macaroni that closely resemble Sicilian pasta al forno.

[Makrouna: Italian Tunesian pasta]

Today, there may be just a few Italian Tunisians left, but their history, and the subtle forms of 'colonization without colonialism' as described by Frisone, still remain visible. It's a shame really, that people, who were living peacefully for centuries in a country, were forced to leave it. It's Tunesia's loss.

[1] Frisone: The Italian diaspora in Tunisia: colonization without colonialism in Africa – 2026. See here.