Introduction
Part 2: Italian Strategic Thought and Practice to 1936
Italy’s strategic thought and practice until late into the interwar period was predicated on the assumptions of Fascist Modernism. Modernism, particularly the Fascistic acceptance of such, utterly glorified the rise of the machine, and idealized action, vigor, and speed. It was essentially a celebration of modernity. If something was new, it was good by default and was certainly better than something that was old. This applied to both technology and to the human race. Human birth was celebrated as a triumph but once man attained age he was, ideally, stripped of his individualism and inserted as merely another cog in the autarkical corporate state that Mussolini had proclaimed. Women existed primarily to propagate the national race. And machines were predominant.
The Fascist vision of war reflected this love affair with machine over man in every respect. Man was not the bringer of victory: machine was. Man, if he was necessary at all, was present only to operate and direct the deadly work of the machines and to witness the revelry of the machines’ inevitable victory over men. There was no doubt in the Fascist vision of warfare. There was only a scientific precision that could not be gainsaid. This Fascistic vision of warfare lay heavily indebted to the work of men such as Giulio Douhet and J.F.C. Fuller, both of whom celebrated the past accomplishments and future potential of machine of war. They postulated that man was weak and unsuited for modern warfare, as proven by the repeated failures on the Western Front during the Great War. Further, they argued that it was the advent of machines—of tanks and aircraft—which, in suitable roles, restored hope that victory could be attained from military action. This vision of warfare had an enormous impact on the organization of the Italian armed forces during the period in question.
Suitably for an army whose central tenets were wholly Fullerian in nature, the Italian Royal Army, the Regio Esercito, showered its love, honor and budget on its armored division concept. Yet even by 1936, over a decade after the Fascists had come to power in Italy, the vaunted armored core of the Italian army was no closer to existing than it had been when the Blackshirts marched on Rome. At best, the Italians had a handful of brigades of armored cars and tankettes but nothing that would stand the test of combat. During this period Mussolini was primarily a showman, attempting to achieve with bombast what he could not any other way, as he had an aversion to hard work. His armored cars and tankettes were sufficient to impress the Italians and convey an image of strength to the rest of Europe. However, the vaunted Italian armored division did not exist as an effective force. Furthermore, the emphasis of machine over man had not only demoralized the soldiers of the army but had led to a lack of budgetary consideration for them, resulting in a lack of training, of modern small arms and artillery and the like. By 1936, despite the bombast, the Regio Esercito had atrophied.
The Italian Royal Navy, the Regia Marina, floundered in a similar plight by 1936. The drive for technology, for machines, and the lure of bombast had brought the navy a core of battleships which in many particulars outclassed their British counterparts of the day. Like in the army, the budget was consumed by the machines and the men to man them received only pittances for their own equipment and training. The ships were good, but their crews were not. Strangely and somewhat ironically given the hold Modernism enjoyed in Italy, there were two technological marvels which had been largely ignored during the Fascists’ decade in power. These two inventions were asdic, now known as sonar, and radar. Both of these technological breakthroughs were to be vitally important to the future of naval warfare, yet the Regia Marina lagged behind. In these two fields, the British severely outclassed the Italians.
The Italian Vittorio Veneto-class battleship Littorio, a prime example of Fascist Modernism.
Of the three services, the Italian Royal Air Force, the Regia Aeronautica, was in the most enviable shape. Though the same philosophy that had so effectively punished the army and the navy was still brought to bear within the air force, its impact was somewhat counterbalanced by the greater exclusivity of this aerial service. As the new and glamorous service, the air force tended to attract the most enthusiastic recruits, who were more willing to look past the, admittedly less major, budgetary indignities they suffered, as compared to the conscripts of the army and the navy. Additionally, they reveled in their machines. Fascist rule had turned the Regia Aeronautica into a modern air force. By the late 1920s and early 1930s its planes were the most modern and most capable not only of all the Mediterranean countries but even within Europe generally. Soon, however, this domination would be erased by the introduction of the all-metal monoplane. Particularly after 1933, as Germany began rearming and officially announced its own air force and the other powers of Europe began gradually and myopically reacting to this growing threat, the Regia Aeronautica quickly began to lose what relative power it had.
Italian strategic thought during this time was predicated upon modernity and all the warlike advantages this would bring them. However, due to Italy’s weak industry and flamboyant rather than practical leadership it was never able to carry through with all its plans, plausibly leaving its armed forces weaker than they would otherwise have been with an equivalent amount of money poured into them. By late 1935 these weaknesses were to some extent being revealed as the Italians went to war with Abyssinia, the one remaining independent African state. Perhaps Mussolini had an intuitive grasp of the weaknesses that were partially revealed by the beginnings of the conflict, as it was during this turmoil that he read the three works of strategic theory that were to change his strategic thought forever.