The Opportunist’s Dilemma: Italy’s Hesitation in 1939

When World War II erupted in September 1939, Italy found itself in an awkward position. Despite Benito Mussolini’s fascist regime being ideologically aligned with Nazi Germany, Italy was woefully unprepared for war. Many Italian officials and industrialists—particularly those with strong economic ties to Britain—opposed immediate involvement, fearing catastrophic losses. Mussolini, eager to share in Hitler’s victories, initially declared Italy a “non-belligerent” rather than a neutral, a semantic distinction that revealed his ambitions.

The swift German conquest of Poland emboldened Mussolini, but Italy’s military deficiencies forced caution. Hitler, aware of his ally’s limitations, did not press for immediate Italian participation. However, as Germany’s Blitzkrieg tore through Scandinavia and Western Europe in early 1940, Mussolini grew restless. The fear of being left empty-handed in a post-war division of spoils gnawed at him.

The Pact of Steel and Mussolini’s Calculated Betrayal

The turning point came in March 1940. With Hitler’s forces dominating Norway and Denmark, Mussolini faced mounting pressure from pro-German factions within Italy. On March 18, the two dictators met at the Brenner Pass, where Mussolini tentatively agreed to join the war—though no firm date was set. By late May, with France crumbling under Germany’s onslaught, Mussolini grew desperate. In letters to Hitler, he insisted Italy would declare war by June 5.

Hitler, confident in his imminent victory, rebuffed Mussolini’s eagerness, unwilling to share the glory. But Mussolini, sensing a chance to claim territorial rewards with minimal effort, ignored the Führer’s reluctance. On June 10, 1940, as German tanks neared Paris, Mussolini stood on the balcony of Venice’s Palazzo Venezia and announced Italy’s declaration of war against France and Britain. His infamous justification—that a few thousand Italian lives were a small price to pay for a seat at the victors’ table—laid bare his cynicism.

The Hollow Invasion: Italy’s Feeble Assault on France

Italy’s military campaign against France was as half-hearted as it was dishonorable. The “Army of the West,” led by Crown Prince Umberto II, mustered 32 divisions against France’s beleaguered Alpine Army of just six. Yet despite numerical superiority, Italian forces struggled in the mountainous terrain. Poor logistics, inadequate training, and low morale hampered their advance.

French defenses, though outnumbered, held firm. The Alpine forts repelled Italian attacks, while sporadic air raids on Toulon and Bizerte achieved little. The Italian navy’s shelling of Genoa and British bombings of Venetian oil depots were mere pinpricks. As French ambassador François-Poncet bitterly remarked, Italy’s entry was “the stab in the back of a man already on the ground.” Prime Minister Paul Reynaud echoed the sentiment, lamenting Italy’s betrayal at France’s darkest hour.

The Fall of Paris and France’s Agonizing Collapse

While Italy floundered in the Alps, Germany delivered the coup de grâce. On June 14, 1940, the Wehrmacht marched into Paris unopposed. The French government had already fled to Bordeaux, leaving the capital an open city. Hitler’s troops staged a victory parade down the Champs-Élysées, the swastika flying over the Eiffel Tower. Over three-quarters of Paris’s population had fled, joining six million refugees in a chaotic exodus south.

Reynaud’s defiant pledge to Roosevelt—to fight “in front of Paris, behind Paris, and beyond”—proved hollow. With the military collapsing, Marshal Philippe Pétain’s faction pushed for an armistice. Italy, despite its negligible battlefield contributions, eagerly joined Germany in dictating terms.

The Bitter Legacy: Opportunism’s Reckoning

Mussolini’s June 1940 gamble brought Italy little glory. The armistice with France secured minor territorial gains, but Italy’s military incompetence became a global joke. Worse, the war exposed the regime’s hollow propaganda, eroding domestic support. By 1943, Italy’s disastrous campaigns in Greece and North Africa would lead to Mussolini’s downfall.

For France, Italy’s betrayal deepened the humiliation of 1940. Yet history’s verdict was clear: Mussolini’s “stab in the back” only hastened his own demise. The rush to join a winning war revealed not strength, but desperation—a lesson in the perils of opportunistic aggression.