The 1930s were a time of chaos and transformation. The Great Depression had wrecked economies across the globe, shaking people’s faith in democracy and fueling the rise of hardline regimes in countries like Germany, Italy, and Japan. Leaders like Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini, and Emperor Hirohito weren’t just reacting to economic hardship—they were actively rejecting the world order that had been shaped after World War I, an order largely maintained by Britain and France.
As all of these powers sought to expand territory—Japan into Manchuria and China, Italy into Ethiopia, and Germany into Austria and Czechoslovakia—they more and more found themselves standing against the Western powers and alone in the world. But in being alone, they found a common ground: an abiding hate of communism and a common wish to remake the world in their image.
Both Japan and Germany had prohibited communist parties and viewed the Soviet Union not only as an enemy but as a direct threat. For Hitler, it was his vision of Lebensraum, or “living space,” in Eastern Europe. For Japan, it was to dominate Asia and the Pacific. Although both nations had racially charged ideologies that would have made collaboration problematic, their strategic objectives were sufficiently aligned for them to manage to overlook those discrepancies, at least for now.
The initial official move toward forging that alliance occurred on November 25, 1936, when Germany and Japan signed what would come to be referred to as the Anti-Comintern Pact. At first glance, it appeared to be a common front against communist revolution, namely the Comintern (Communist International), a Soviet-dominated organization in favor of global communism.
However, the agreement was a subtle threat directed at the Soviet Union itself. The pact contained a clandestine provision whereby each country promised not to assist the Soviets if attacked by the other. Although the pact made no explicit military commitments, its actual strength was symbolic. It indicated that two of the world’s most belligerent powers now stood shoulder to shoulder.
Italy followed the year after, in 1937, making a loose alignment into what would later be known as the Rome–Berlin–Tokyo Axis. It escalated further from there. In 1939, Germany and Italy formalized their alliance by signing the Pact of Steel, making it a military alliance. The culminating point was on September 27, 1940, when all three countries signed the Tripartite Pact. This pact pledged them to defend each other and recognized each other’s leadership positions—Germany and Italy in Europe, Japan in Asia. It was also a veiled threat to the United States, which remained outside the war.
Whereas the Allies did not create a combined command organization, the Axis didn’t even. They had no joint military schools, and their collaboration was rather a convenience than coordination. Suspicion and individualism frequently intervened.
Germany didn’t even trust Italy enough to make crucial military plans available. Mussolini, in turn, frequently made rash choices—such as his hapless invasion of Greece—that tended to cause more issues than they resolved. As historian Christopher Hibbert wrote, Mussolini was acutely sensitive to the fact that he was the junior partner in the Axis, and he had precious little genuine power over Hitler.
Despite all the suspicion and lack of coordination, the Axis alliance still had significant implications. It provided every member with the courage to be aggressive in action, with the knowledge that they had at least nominal backing. It also made things a great deal more difficult for the Allies, who were waging wars on several fronts—European, African, and Pacific. More nations defected to the Axis camp as time progressed: Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Slovakia, and Croatia all joined up, motivated by their own combination of ideology, fear, and ambition.
But cracks in the coalition were beginning to appear when the tide of the war shifted. Italy fell in 1943 and ultimately joined the Allies. Romania and Bulgaria defected as Soviet troops advanced into Eastern Europe. Eventually, Germany and Japan found themselves fighting alone, and both were defeated by 1945.
The Anti-Comintern Pact and related treaties weren’t political or military compacts alone. They were statements—blood-curdling and unequivocal—that these nations were turning their backs on the status quo and were ready to remake the world by the use of force and coercion. As one scholar acutely noted, the alliance was not about combating communism; it was about taking a stand between two competing visions of the world. Alliances that were formed at that period remind us just how perilous it is when extremist ideologies and cold strategic calculation unite on the global stage.