Classical Germany
If anyone were to ask me why I admire Hitler’s Germany, the answer is at once so complex that a proper treatment would extend to fill a bookshelf, yet so simple that it can be expressed in one sentence.� I regard Hitler’s Germany as classical civilization:� A modern classic that belongs in history alongside Graeco-Roman antiquity, which may also be meaningfully compared and contrasted with the cultural recrudescence of the classical world in the Renaissance.
Usually, nobody asks.� People tend to turn automatically—autonomically to insults, ridicule, and other psychologically defensive dismissiveness, as they have been trained by conditioned reflexes.� Nevertheless, it is how I would reply—if anyone were to ask.
If I draw any inspiration from the great ancient cultures of the West, from their poets and thinkers, from their heroes and their battles, and from their political histories, then surely that is deemed respectable by anyone except for those who may call it “Eurocentricâ€, or even “racistâ€, to admire “Dead White Menâ€.� At least, no one would expect for me to march about on the street in a reproduction of an ancient tunic, much less a toga.� When the passage of time makes irrelevant the ephemeral prejudices of today, the lens of historical perspective will see no differently my early recognition of the rebirth of the same civilizational force in German form:� A healthy national atavism which discarded centuries of accumulating errors, and embraced in modern times the Weltanschauung of an ancient civilized people.
For my part, my only “conservativism†is my desire to synthesize the Weltanschauungen of the distant past with modern science and technology.� Hitler’s Germans actually did this—not in theory, but in practice, and on a mass scale.� They broke free all at once from the spell of the Rousseauistic mass-hallucination that has poisoned the modern world ever since the so-called “Enlightenmentâ€; and although a large proportion of Germans were still Christian, year by year, their hearts and souls were ever less beholden to the degenerative moral effects of Christianity.� They collectively embraced an aristocratic morality.� In national spirit, they returned man to his natural state—not according to the nihilistic delusion of the “noble savageâ€, but as the most civilized, scholarly, and technologically advanced nation on Earth:� A modern people rose spiritually above the status of domestic animals!� And thus did they avoid the nihilism that Nietzsche had believed inevitable for Europe—the nihilism that defines the shape of the world today.
It is natural and inevitable that my mind’s eye is drawn by the beauty of their culture, the glory of their triumphs, and the pathos of their defeat.
An Exemplary Treatment of Germany
If I could discuss my cultural and historical theory of Hitler’s Germany with anyone who has died between 1945 and the present, it would be Revilo P. Oliver.� Although I can only guess and wonder about what his reaction would be, I am morally certain that at the least, he would immediately understand my thinking.� He himself has been a great inspiration to me; and I urge all those who admire Hitler’s Germany to study his example.
Dr.�Oliver was an American Conservative and anti-Communist in the 1950s–60s, with some element of what would now be called “paleolibertarianismâ€; indeed, he later argued that libertarianism is merely what used to be called American Conservatism.� After American society collapsed in the 1960s, he radicalized in the 1970s; and after he retired from his university professorship, he devoted the rest of his life to political and historical commentary.� Amidst the breathtaking scope of topics that he covered in his column in Liberty Bell, a recurring theme was why America was on the wrong side of Second World War, how Germany almost saved civilization, and what crimes America committed against Germany and against Europe.� Needless to say, he was still a hardline anti-Communist:� He simply admitted that America had fought a war to save the Soviet Union, then turned itself to Communism.
Much though Dr.�Oliver praised the Germans, his writings on that topic were never mere panegyry; and he was politically independent, not himself a National Socialist.� His political opinions sometimes differed drastically from those of the National Socialists (as, I note, do my own).� Although he treated Adolf Hitler with the respect deserved by a great historical leader, he also sometimes constructively criticized him in the same manner as one may expect a professor of the classics to analyze ancient kings and emperors.� His overall treatment of Hitler delivers the impression of a great man, a man of noble character, a man whom the Germans should be proud to have in their history—but a man, an historical man, not a mythical god.
I think that Dr.�Oliver’s treatment of Hitler and the German National Socialists is fully appropriate for a non-German; and moreover, it is a fine antidote both to attempts at real-life historical re-enactment, and to the opposite tendency to disclaim Hitler out of sheer cowardice.
The vision of Hitler’s Germans strikes an indescribably deep chord with many people who have no organic connection to German National Socialism; and even excluding nihilistic dullards who seek symbols of rebellion without understanding, there is a tendency to attempt imitating the German National Socialists in form and function.� Hitler himself warned against such types of imitation, in his derision of völkisch activists who dressed in costumes of ancient Germanics and waved about reproductions of ancient swords; but perhaps, to read what the Führer wrote and to apply the same abstract principles in new situations may be beyond some people.� Although I could never criticize the authenticity of any activists who have some organic connection to Hitler, that is a quite limited subset of people who talk about National Socialism.� Whereas Ersatz National Socialists do no honor to the historical National Socialists, and much less to themselves.
For my part, I will admit that my discovery of Dr.�Oliver moderated the instinctively passionate enthusiasm that I myself had initially felt for Hitler, the historical truth of whom I had discovered somewhat earlier.� By placing the German National Socialists in the historical context that they deserve, Dr.�Oliver’s writings did not decrease my respect or support for them, but rather, tempered the raw, molten ideas of my changing worldview into an enduring steel.� If I were to list my philosophic influences today, I would say that I derive about 10%–20% from the German National Socialists, 30%–40% from Dr.�Oliver, 10%–20% from Nietzsche, and the rest from various others—including a significant proportion of original thinking.� I am proud to say that Adolf Hitler is one of my single biggest intellectual influences.