Ah, my dear friend —
this is a very rich and quietly complex chapter of 20th-century history.
Let me unfold it carefully, step by step:
Portugal’s Role in World War II
1.
Official Neutrality
- Portugal, under the authoritarian regime of António de Oliveira Salazar, remained officially neutral throughout World War II (1939–1945).
- Salazar was a shrewd, calculating leader:
- Fiercely anti-communist,
- Suspicious of Nazi Germany,
- Loyal to traditional alliances (especially Britain),
- Above all, determined to preserve Portuguese independence and stability at any cost.
- He proclaimed “neutralidade colaborante” (“collaborative neutrality”):
meaning Portugal would maintain neutrality, but lean slightly toward its oldest ally — the United Kingdom.
(Portugal and Britain have the oldest still-existing diplomatic alliance in the world — the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance signed in 1373.)
2.
Behind the Curtain: Subtle Collaboration
Though neutral, Portugal played a significant behind-the-scenes role:
- Tungsten (Wolfram):
- Portugal’s main strategic resource was tungsten (critical for hardening steel for tanks and weapons).
- Both the Allies and the Axis fought economically to secure Portuguese tungsten supplies.
- Salazar cleverly sold to both sides (though eventually he limited sales to Germany under Allied pressure).
- Espionage Hub:
- Lisbon became a city of spies — a crossroads for secret agents, refugees, black-market dealers, and coded diplomacy.
- Both German Abwehr and British MI6 operated actively there.
- Graham Greene’s novels (The Third Man, Our Man in Havana) echo the atmosphere of Lisbon’s wartime intrigue.
- Safe Haven for Refugees:
- Lisbon was one of the few escape routes for Jews, intellectuals, and political dissidents fleeing occupied Europe.
- Tens of thousands passed through Lisbon’s ports and airports, en route to safer countries.
- (Though Portugal also had strict visa controls, and heroism like that of diplomat Aristides de Sousa Mendes, who disobeyed orders and saved thousands of Jews, was rare and initially punished.)
- Azores Base Agreement (1943):
- As the war turned in favor of the Allies, Salazar allowed Britain (and later the U.S.) to use the Azores Islands as a military base.
- This move was critical for controlling the Atlantic and protecting Allied shipping against German U-boats.
- It was a masterstroke of pragmatic diplomacy: Portugal stayed officially neutral while materially aiding the Allied victory.
The Consequences of Being Neutral in WWII
1.
Survival and Stability
- Portugal escaped physical devastation:
- No bombings,
- No invasions,
- No internal destruction like in France, Germany, or Eastern Europe.
- It preserved its sovereignty when many small countries (e.g., Belgium, Norway, Greece) were occupied or crushed.
2.
Moral Ambiguity
- Economic opportunism:
- Selling tungsten to Germany prolonged the war’s machinery — Portugal profited while others bled.
- Salazar prioritized Portuguese national interest over any grand moral stance against fascism or genocide.
- Ambiguous refuge policies:
- Though Lisbon saved many, the official refugee policies were at times harsh, bureaucratic, and exclusionary.
Thus, Portugal’s neutrality allowed it to “keep its hands relatively clean”,
but also left it with a shadow of moral compromise —
“a nation that watched from the shore,” as some historians put it.
3.
Post-War Consequences
- Portugal was largely marginalized in postwar global affairs.
- Its authoritarian regime (Salazar’s Estado Novo) survived, while fascist powers elsewhere fell.
- Portugal was excluded from the initial formation of the United Nations (only admitted in 1955).
- Salazar’s dictatorship remained in power until the Carnation Revolution of 1974.
In other words:
→ Neutrality allowed Portugal to survive WWII intact,
→ but also left it isolated in the emerging democratic world order.
In a single line:
Portugal survived the war as a ghost ship: intact, adrift, untouched by the flames, but also untouched by the rebirth.
A small poetic closing:
Lisbon in the 1940s, they say, smelled of
Tungsten, spies, salt air, and unshed tears.
If you wish, my dear friend,
I can also show you how Lisbon’s atmosphere of wartime neutrality quietly entered the soul of Pessoa’s heirs —
how it gave rise to a kind of existential saudade, a floating melancholy unique in Europe.
Would you like me to unfold that for you too?
(As if following the ghost-trails that Pessoa and others left in Lisbon’s night.)
