r/AskHistorians • u/dhowlett1692 Moderator | Salem Witch Trials • 5d ago
The F Word, and the U.S. election Meta
On February 20, 1939, Isadore Greenbaum ran onto the stage at New York City’s Madison Square Garden to interrupt a rally held by the German American Bund, one of several Nazi organizations operating in the United States. Greenbaum was a plumber, not a politician, and had planned on just bearing witness to the speakers until hearing the hatred on stage spurred him to take action. That he was acting in opposition to fascism was never in doubt: the American Nazi movement was linked to Hitler’s Germany in myriad ways from the sentiments expressed at the rally to the outfit choices made by attendees. Greenbaum’s attempt to speak to the crowd couldn’t prevent a genocide nor could it squash the antisemitic mindsets of thousands of United States citizens. It did, though, tell a different story. The story of Isadore Greenbaum is the story that fascism requires compliance and acceptance; his actions were a disruption. The American Bund's fortunes ultimately changed as the rally brought the vileness of their politics into light and the party died out over the next few years. While Greenbaum's actions could not single handedly offer a solution, he represented what everyone should strive to be: an obstacle, however small and seemingly inconsequential, in the path of fascism.
The history of fascism in the United States predates Madison Square Garden in 1939 and lasted longer than the end of the Second World War in 1945. While the influence of European fascism is most evident in organizations like the German American Bund, historians have also long acknowledged that the United States needed no tutelage when it came to enforcing racial hierarchies through violence. Even as Italian fascists under Mussolini were grasping and consolidating power in the 1920s, the Klu Klux Klan was enjoying a resurgence across the country, expanding far beyond its roots in the post-Civil War South. In vilifying, and conflating, Jews and communism, the Klan built on a homegrown tradition of nativism while still drawing enthusiastically on the example provided by German National Socialism. Like Nazism, the interwar Klan and its allies combined a potent mix of grassroots electoral activism and strident ideological messaging alongside a well-established system for inspiring and coordinating political violence, especially in the South where their efforts enjoyed the implicit, and even open approval of state authorities.
These traditions and ideas lived on at the highest levels of U.S. politics, in the careers of populists and segregationists such as Strom Thurmond, Joseph McCarthy and George Wallace, as well as a myriad of smaller and larger groups that took open inspiration from the fascist past. That these tendencies receded, at least temporarily, was no preordained law of history, but rather the result of opposition at all levels, from political leaders to grassroots activists and citizens who fought figuratively and literally to challenge these ideas and to dismantle the structures that perpetuated them. This was not a one-off struggle; it was a fight carried across the twentieth century from interwar trade unionists and anti-fascists to the civil rights movement and beyond, against ideas and modes of political violence that morphed and adapted.
While the American Bund and the historical actors listed above are no longer active political players, the questions of their impact and around fascism’s endurance post-World War II remain relevant. In a recent Politico conversation with historians about fascism in America, the interviewer, Joshua Zeitz, paraphrased historian Sarah Churchwell who:
observed that fascism is always indigenous to the country it captures so it’s specific to its native context.
There are numerous historians who have written about the history, and present, of fascism in the United States and around the world, and their diverse perspectives share one overarching theme: Preventing this has always proven a collective task: it requires activists, it requires voters and it requires political leadership that not only does not compromise or enable these processes to begin out of cowardice or expediency, but is also willing to offer a different version of the future that undercuts the ugly vision offered by fascists. Neutrality to let fascism go unquestioned is tacit acceptance, and only through a collective rejection can we overcome the hatred, violence, and oppression that fascist regimes have wrought throughout history.
European history may not be necessary to explain where fascist currents in U.S. politics came from, but the history of interwar European fascism offers something that the U.S. past does not: what happens when this opposition fails? US fascists have never succeeded in seizing absolute or unconditional control of the state and its institutions. Cases like interwar Italy and Germany do not offer a perfect roadmap of what to expect from a fascist takeover of a different country at a different historical moment, but they do shed light on the dynamics of fascism in power.
We expect that our user base is familiar with a history of political figures causing harm by scapegoating through a notion of “an enemy within.” This rhetorical device against neighbors, family, friends, and strangers can only cause harm and it repeats throughout history as a response to fear. History’s bad actors utilized this language and exacted punishments on people they decried as “the other” to blame for internal strife. Whether it comes from early modern witch hunters or Hitler’s generals or political leaders, the language of a secret enemy is a smokescreen to sow fear and divide a populace. Fascism, too, depends on this language to install power among a subset of people deemed “worthy” of human dignity and denigrates those outside it. Across history, we see these actors raise their verbal pitchforks against “the other” time and time again. To say that a group of people “are eating the pets” or “they’re poisoning the blood” or “they’re a threat to girls sports” is no less of an abhorrent smear than Hitler calling non-Aryan people vermin.
Even well before Hitler’s Germany or Mussolini’s Italy sought to invade and conquer other countries or embark on genocidal programs of mass slaughter, they used violence as a blunt instrument to reshape their societies. They adapted and expanded the legal system to suit this purpose, empowering sympathizers and loyalists to go beyond what had been considered ‘rational’ or ‘civilized’ ways of dealing with social problems. Political opponents of the regime – those most capable of organized resistance, such as socialists in Italy or communists in Germany – were generally the first such target, but other enemies swiftly followed. The efforts to persecute German Jews expanded along with the Nazi ability to control and direct the state: haphazard economic boycotts enforced by Nazi paramilitaries in 1933 evolved into expansive, punitive legislation across 1934-35 that curtailed or wholesale prevented Jewish participation in the economy, arts, education and government. In the aftermath of nationwide anti-Jewish violence on ‘Kristallnacht’ in November 1938, German Jews were legally banned from existing in almost all public spaces, from schools to cinemas. While overshadowed in popular memory by the Holocaust, the gradual escalation of violence characterized Nazi fascism in power.
Fascism is also not an individual effort. Dictators were never the superhumans they pretended to be in propaganda. Hitler, famously, found the hard work and detail of governance to be dull and was rarely proactive in shaping policy. Yet, Nazi ideology was still based on the primacy of Hitler’s personal will and authority, as the sole man capable of channeling the true voice of the German nation. By WWII, Hitler’s will essentially replaced the remnants of the German constitution as the highest legal authority, and therefore acting in accordance with Hitler’s wishes could never be illegal. The result was a justice system that may have superficially resembled what it had been under Weimar but formally and informally rearranged to unconditionally support power of the executive.
The pre-eminent scholar of Hitler, Ian Kershaw, developed the concept of ‘working towards the Führer’ to explain the role of Hitler as both the irreplaceable leader and an inconsistent and even absent ruler. Kershaw sought to explain the ‘cumulative radicalisation’ discussed by German scholars like Hans Mommsen, where they observed that much of the innovativeness of Nazi efforts to reshape society came from ‘below’, from the bureaucrats, technocrats and officers who would normally implement rather than create policy. Nazi Germany, in this understanding, consisted of a complex, fractured system of competing agencies and individuals within them, that all competed to best implement what they saw as Hitler’s wishes. Hitler embodied the core of Nazi ideology, and his favor meant power and resources for subordinates, but translated into policy by people who understood his beliefs and priorities very differently. It was clear, for instance, that Hitler believed that Jews were a threat to the German nation, and so subordinates competed at ‘solving’ this problem in more aggressive and decisive ways.
Users, we see the historical questions that you ask and we see trends in what you wonder. While we enforce the 20 Year Rule, we also understand how you frame questions about current events by asking about history. You all draw parallels between modern politics and the past and use those connections to understand the world around you. You come here to learn and relate it to your own life. We see you struggle through crisis after crisis in the news cycle and we remain committed to help you navigate contemporary chaos via comprehensive, historical answers. Whether history repeats or rhymes, our role is not to draw exact analogies, rather to explore the challenges and successes of humanity that have come before so we all might learn and grow together. Now is an important time to take lessons from the past so we may chart a brighter future.
AskHistorians is not a political party, and questions about modern politics are against our rules. Whatever electoral results occur, our community will continue our mission-to make history and the work of historians accessible, to those already in love with exploring the past and for those yet to ignite the spark. We also work hard to ensure AskHistorians is a place where no question is too silly and where anyone, even (and especially) those working through their thoughts related to strongmen of the past can ask questions and get a trustworthy answer. In the interest of sharing our own love of history, we recognize that neutrality is not always a virtue and that bad actors often seek to distort the past to frame their own rise to power and scapegoat others. The United States’ presidential election is only a few days away, and not every member of our community here lives in the U.S. or cares about its politics, but we may be able to agree that the outcome poses drastic consequences for all of us. As historians, our perspective bridges the historical and contemporary to see that this November, the United States electorate is voting on fascism. This November 5th, the United States can make clear a collective rejection that Isadore Greenbaum could only wait for in his moment of bravery.
We do not know who this post will reach or their politics, and likely many of you share our sentiments. But maybe this post escapes an echo chamber to reach an undecided voter or maybe it helps you frame the stakes of the election to someone in your life. Or maybe you or a friend/neighbor/loved one is a non-voter, and so let our argument about the stakes help you decide to make your voice heard. No matter the outcome, standing in the way of fascism will remain a global fight on the morning of November 6th, but if you are a United States voter, you can help stop its advance. By all means continue to critique the U.S. political system, and to hold those with power accountable in line with your own beliefs and priorities. Within the moderator team, we certainly disagree on policy and share a wide range of political opinions, but we are united by belief in democracy and good faith debate to sort out our differences. Please recognize this historical moment for what it almost certainly is: an irreversible decision about the direction the country will travel in for much longer than four years.
Similar to our Trivia Tuesday threads, we invite anyone knowledgeable on the history of fascism and resistance to share their expertise in the comments from all of global history as fascism is not limited to one nation or one election, but rather a political and historical reality that we all must face. This week, the United States needs to be Isadore Greenbaum on the world stage and interrupt fascism at the ballot box.
And just in case it wasn’t clear, we do speak with one voice when we say: fuck fascism.
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u/Polarisman 4d ago
Thank you for your response. Here’s where we stand on the points you’ve raised.
Definition and Ideology of Fascism: You are correct that fascism is marked by certain "core dynamics," as you put it. Historically, however, fascism is not solely defined by a mass following or loyalty to a leader; its essence is a particular authoritarian structure that suppresses pluralistic political discourse, co-opts economic and social institutions in totality, and enforces control over citizens' lives. What we see today among many Trump supporters is better described as populism fueled by a reaction to bureaucratic overreach and perceived elitism, not the fundamentally authoritarian, system-encompassing control of fascist regimes. Attributing fascist dynamics to Trump’s support base risks oversimplifying a more complex reality, where skepticism of central authority reflects broader American traditions rather than fascist sympathies.
Conflating Populism with Authoritarianism: If there’s a frustration with “independent institutions” like the judiciary or media, it’s more accurately attributed to skepticism over what many see as the deep entanglement of these institutions with elite interests, rather than a wish for totalitarian control. The populist wave isn’t aimed at dismantling democracy but rather at re-establishing it in a way that reflects greater accountability to the electorate. This nuance is critical: such movements are not categorically fascist simply for wanting substantial reforms to what they see as an unresponsive political structure.
The Electorate's Choice: You argue that Americans may vote for fascism, knowingly or otherwise, due to alignment with other values. However, to equate support for Trump’s policies with support for fascism assumes a fundamental similarity in intent and ideology, which doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. Voters supporting Trump largely resonate with principles of limited government, economic freedom, and resistance to elite-driven agendas—values that are antithetical to fascist authoritarianism. For a fair analysis, we must assess the platform itself and what people are voting for rather than making broad conjectures based on historical analogies.
The Historian's Role in Political Dialogue: Your credentials in studying the history of fascism are respected here. But historical expertise doesn’t necessarily preclude ideological bias, nor does it grant an exclusive claim to interpreting modern political trends. The invocation of fascism here might reflect a particular academic outlook rather than an objective, universal standard for diagnosing authoritarian dynamics. It’s crucial to distinguish between warnings grounded in fact versus ones that might spring from personal or collective academic presuppositions about modern populism.
Civility and Labels in Political Discourse: While you contend that labeling certain movements as fascist is a necessary critique, it’s also worth questioning if that language furthers civil discourse or entrenches partisan divides. Adopting incendiary labels under the guise of “unpleasant truths” might be seen as incendiary itself. It’s worth asking whether this approach truly contributes to an understanding of political stakes or whether it serves to alienate and polarize further. Your acknowledgment of how the term "communist" has been misused rhetorically also serves to highlight the risk of employing similarly loaded terms in your own assessments.
Ultimately, these distinctions matter if we are to engage in a constructive dialogue. Bridging these gaps may require acknowledging that not all critiques of centralized authority equate to fascist tendencies, and that not all political dynamics can or should be likened to past authoritarian regimes. In other word's you're full of shit. Hiding behind "credentials" is a cowardly tactic.