Why Was Hitler Elected?

nazi propaganda poster saying "death to marism"


Despite the fact that invoking Hitler in arguments is so kneejerk that there’s even a meme about it, a surprising number of people misunderstand the situation. They misunderstand, for instance, that he was elected; he was even voted into dictatorship. So, why was he elected?

I want to focus on four factors that are commonly noted in scholarship but often absent from or misrepresented in popular invocations of Hitler: widespread resentment effectively mobilized by pro-Nazi rhetoric, an enclave-based media environment, authoritarian populism, agency by proxy/charismatic leadership.

I. Resentment

Resentment is often defined as a sense of grievance against a person, but grievances can be of various kinds, including motivating positive personal change or political action. Resentment is grievance drunk on jealousy. It’s common to distinguish jealousy from envy on the grounds that, while both involve being unhappy that someone has something we don’t, jealousy means wanting it taken from the other. If I envy someone’s nice shirt, I can solve that problem by buying one for myself; jealousy can only be satisfied if they lose that shirt, they are harmed for having the shirt, or the shirt is damaged. My jealousy can even be satisfied without my getting a shirt—as long as they lose theirs. Jealousy is zero-sum, but envy is not.

Resentment is a zero-sum hostility toward others whom I think look down on me. Although I feel victimized that they have something I don’t, I don’t necessarily want what they have. I do, however, want them to lose it; I want them crushed and humiliated for even having it. Resentment relies on a sense that others have things to which I am entitled, and they are not. In addition, resentment always has a little bit of unacknowledged shame.

Many Germans (most? all?) resented the Versailles Treaty, and they resented losing the Great War. They resented the accusation that they were responsible for the war, they resented that they lost a war they believed they were entitled to win, and they resented a treaty as punitive as the kind they were accustomed to impose on others.

Certainly, the Versailles Treaty was excessively punitive, but it was, oddly enough, fair—at least in the sense that it was an eye for an eye. Germans didn’t condemn equally punitive treaties they had imposed on others (e.g., the Treaty of Frankfurt or the 1918 Brest-Litvosk Treaty. They resented being treated as they felt entitled to treat others.

The war guilt clause was a particular point of resentment, and yet it was partially true. The notion that one nation and one nation only can cause a world war is implausible—few wars are monocausal—but certainly Germany held a large part of the responsibility. Yet Germans liked to see themselves as forced into a war they didn’t want—they were the real victims and completely blameless. Were the Germans actually truly blameless, I don’t think the Treaty of Versailles would have been as useful a tool for mobilizing resentment.

Sloppy pan-Germanism mixed with the even sloppier Social Darwinism promoted a narrative that victory always goes to the strongest, and that therefore whoever win deserved it. The German defeat in the Great War therefore was a massive blow to German ideology—if the best always win, and the winners are always the best, that loss was stuck in the craw. People who enjoyed Nazi rhetoric resented that they lost a war they felt entitled to win.

Important to Nazi mobilization of that resentment was continually reminding audiences of it—there are few (any?) Hitler speeches in which he didn’t remind his audience of the humiliation of the Versailles Treaty, and of the way that other nations looked down on and victimized Germany.

Did everyone else really look down on Germany? The French probably did, but that’s just because they looked down on everyone. Some British and Americans did; some didn’t. But the Germans certainly looked down on everyone. So, like the resentment about punitive treaties, they weren’t on principle opposed to people looking down on others; they just resented when they thought they were being looked down on.

The Versailles Treaty didn’t actually end the fighting. Pogroms, forced emigration, violent clashes, and genocides raged through Eastern and Central Europe well after the war, causing a massive immigration crisis. And, as often happens, people resented the immigrants. They also resented liberals, intellectuals, Jews, and various other groups that they imagined looked down on them.

Resentment is an act of projection and imagination.

hitler smiling at a child


II. Enclave-based media environment

Weimar Germany had a lot of political parties (around forty, depending on how you count them), which can loosely be categorized as: Catholic, communist, conservative, fascist, liberal (in the European sense), and socialist. They all had their own media (mostly newspapers), and many of them were rabidly partisan in terms of coverage but without admitting to the partisan coverage. [The antebellum era in the US was much the same.]

The important consequence of this factionalized media landscape was that it was possible for a person to remain fully within an informational enclave: foundational narratives, myths, premises, and outright lies were continually repeated. Repetition is persuasive. Since factional media wouldn’t present criticism or even critics fairly (or at all), it was possible for someone to feel certain about various events and yet be completely wrong. Germany was not about to win the war when it capitulated.

Sometimes the narratives were specific (e.g.,The Protocols of the Elders of Zion documents the plot of international Jewry ), and sometimes about broader historical events, or history itself. One of the most important narratives was the shape-shifting “stab in the back” myth about the Great War. This myth said that Germany was just about to win the war, and would have, but the nation was stabbed in the back, and therefore had to accept a humiliating treaty. As Richard Evans has shown, just who stabbed the back, or when, or why, or even what back, varied considerably. Like a lot of myths, it was simultaneously detailed and inconsistent.

Another important narrative was a similarly specific and vague narrative about the course of history, as a survival of the fittest conflict undermined by liberal democracy. This narrative typically cast Jews as intractably incapable of patriotism, assimilation, or German identity. German exceptionalism denied the actual heterogeneity of

Of those six kinds of political parties, three were explicitly and actively hostile to democracy, either advocating a return to the monarchy (Catholic) or a new system entirely (fascist, communist). Some “conservatives” parties advocated a return to monarchy, some advocated some other kind of authoritarian government, and some at least seemed willing to accommodate democratic decision-making practices. Only the liberals and socialists actively supported democracy (communists wanted a Marxist-Leninist revolution and dictatorship of the proletariat, whereas socialists agreed with Marxist critiques of unconstrained capitalism, but wanted reform via democratic processes; “liberals” believed in a free market and democratic processes of decision-making).

What’s important about this kind of media environment is that it undermines democratic practices because it enables the demonization or dismissal of anyone who significantly disagrees. Repetition is persuasive. If you are repeatedly told that socialists want to kick bunnies, and never hear from socialists what they actually advocate, then you’ll believe that socialists want to kick bunnies. That makes them people who shouldn’t be included in the decision-making process at all; it personalizes policy disagreements. Policy disagreements, rather than being opportunities for arguing about the ads/disads, costs, feasibility, and so on of our various policy options (even vehemently arguing) is a contest of groups.

Tl;dr If you only get your information from in-group sources, then chances are that you never hear the most reasonable arguments for out-group policies; therefore everyone who is not in-group will seem unreasonable. Not hearing the arguments leads to refusing to listen to the people.

Repetition coupled with isolation from reasonable counterarguments radicalizes.

Hitler looking at a map with generals


III. Authoritarian populism

One way to misunderstand how persuasion works is to imagine out-groups and their leaders as completely and obviously evil—by refusing to understand what some people find/found attractive about such leaders, we make ourselves feel more secure (“I would never have supported Hitler”), and thereby ignore that we might get talked into supporting someone like that.

Nazism is a kind of “authoritarian populism.” Populism is a political ideology that posits that politics is a conflict between two kinds of people: a real people whose concerns and beliefs are legitimate, moral, and true; a corrupt, out-of-touch, illegitimate elite who are parasitic on the real people. Populism is always anti-pluralist: there is only one real people, and they are in perfect agreement about everything. (Muller says populism is “a moralized form of antipluralism” 20).

Populism become authoritarian when the narrative that the real people have become so oppressed by the “elite” that they are in danger of extermination. At that point, there are no constraints on the behavior of populists or their leaders. This rejection of what are called “liberal norms” (not in the American sense of “liberal” but the political theory one) such as fairness, change from within, deliberation, transparent and consistent legal processes is the moment that a populist movement becomes authoritarian (and Machiavellian).

As Muller says, “Populists claim that they, and they alone, represent the people” (Muller 3). Therefore, any election that populists lose is not legitimate, any election they win is, regardless of what strategies they’ve used to win. Violence on the part of the in-group is admirable and always justified, purely on the grounds that it is in-group violence. The in-group is held to lower moral standards while claiming the moral highground.

Authoritarian populism always has an intriguing mix of victimhood, heroism, strength, and whining. Somehow whining about how oppressed “we are” and what meany-meany-bo-beanies They are is seen as strength. And that is what much of Hitler’s rhetoric was—so very, very much whining.

And that is something else that authoritarian populism promises: a promise of never being held morally accountable, as long as you are a loyal (even fanatical) member of the in-group (the real people).

In authoritarian populism, the morality comes from group membership, and the values the group claims to have—values which might have literally nothing to do with whatever policies they enact or ways they behave.


IV. Charismatic leadership/agency by proxy


Authoritarian populism needs an authority to embody the real people. It’s fine if they’re actually elite (many people were impressed by Hitler’s wealth). Kenneth Burke talked about the relationship in terms of “identification”—they saw him as their kind of guy. They imagined a seamless connection with him. In charismatic leadership relationships, the followers attribute all sorts of characteristics to their leader (which the leader may or may not actually have): extraordinary health, almost superhuman endurance, universal genius, a Midas touch, infallible and instantaneous judgment, and a perfect understanding of what “normal” people like and want.

In general, people engage in intention/motive-based explanations for good behavior on the part of the in-group and bad behavior on the part of non in-group leaders and members, and situational explanations for good behavior on the part of the non in-group and bad behavior for the in-group.

So, if Hubert (in-group) and Chester (out-group) give a cookie to a child (good behavior), then it shows that Hubert is good and generous (motive/intention), but Chester only did so because he was forced by circumstances (situational).

If Hubert (in-group) and Chester (out-group) both steal a cookie from a child (bad behavior), then it was because Hubert didn’t see the child, the child shouldn’t have been eating the cookie, he had no choice (situational explanations), but Chester stealing the cookie was deliberate and because Chester is evil.

One sign, then, of a charismatic leadership relationship is whether the follower holds a leader to the same standards of behavior as non in-group leaders, or if they flip the intention/situation explanations in order to hold on to the narrative that the in-group is essentially good.

What we get from a charismatic leadership relationship is a fairly simple way of understanding good and bad—it reduces moral complexity and uncertainty. Since our group is essentially good, we are guaranteed moral certainty simply by being a loyal member. And that is what Hitler promised.

Because Hitler is like us, and really gets us, then we are powerful—we take pride in everything he does; we have agency by proxy.

But, because we identify with him, then our attachment to him means we will not listen to criticism of him—criticism of him is an attack on our goodness. Our support becomes non-falsifiable, and therefore outside the realm of a reasonable disagreement about him, his actions, or his policies.

Charismatic leadership is authoritarian. But oh so very, very pleasurable.




Sources:

There are still lots of arguments among scholars about Hitler, the Germans, and the Nazis, but nothing I’m saying here is either particularly controversial or something I’ve come up with on my own.

While it is a mistake to attribute magical qualities to Hitler’s rhetoric, and to attribute the various genocides and disasters to him personally (as though his personal magnetism was destroyed agency on the part of Germans), it is also a mistake to think the rhetoric was powerless. Germans elected him because they liked what he had to say.

There was a time when scholars were insistent that Hitler’s rhetoric wasn’t that great (an argument that Ryan Skinnell’s forthcoming book will show was an accusation made at the time, one that completely misses the rhetorical force of Hitler’s strategies), but that was partially a reaction to the immediate post-war deflecting of German responsibility for the war, the Holocaust, the various genocides (the argument was that Germans were overwhelmed by Hitler’s rhetoric, or secretly hated him—neither was true).

There are many excellent biographies of Hitler, the ones written after the opening of the records captured by the Soviets are the most useful. Kershaw’s writings are especially readable, but Volker Ullrich’s and Peter Longerich’s biographies have been able to take advantage of more recent research (If I were asked to recommend just one biography, it would be Longerich’s). Richard Evans’ three-volume study of Nazism (coming to power, in power, at war) is thorough and makes clear the enthusiastic participation of various other leaders.

Adam Tooze’s Wages of Destruction is a compelling and detailed analysis of the economy under the Nazis, and Nicholas Stargardt’s The German War shows the considerable support Nazis had throughout the war. There are a lot of books about the media and Hitler, but I think the best place to start is Despina Stratigakos’ Hitler at Home. Robert Gerwarth’s The Vanquished is a powerful discussion of the aftermath of the Great War.


The Enabling Act and the current coup attempt

nazi propaganda poster saying "death to marism"

On March 23, 1933, Adolf Hitler argued that what “the left” had done was so outrageous that Germany should abandon democracy and make him dictator. The elected officials did.

He was supported by the Catholic Party, all conservative parties, and the majority of Protestants. The only parties to oppose him were the Democratic Socialists and the Communists.

Since everyone other than socialists and communists supported Hitler, why is it a talking point among pro-Trump groups that Hitler was a socialist, and therefore a leftist? Because they want to rationalize engaging in exactly the same kind of coup that Hitler managed—we have to abandon democratic practices because “the left” is so bad—while pretending they aren’t doing exactly what Hitler did.

A lot of people reason by identity rather than politics. That is, they engage in the fantasy that good people, and only good people, will enact good policies. So, when trying to decide how to vote, just look for someone for someone who understands you, who is like you. That’s called “identification.” There’s a kind of narcissism in it—or maybe political solipsism is a better word. You just look out for yourself, and vote for someone who will look out for you, and….what, exactly, is supposed to happen? There can’t be a one-to-one relationship of identities (young, old, middle-aged, no kids, lots of kids, a disabled kid) between voters and political figures because there aren’t that many people in Congress (and voting on this basis always hurts the smaller groups). In addition, what are called social groups (not social in the sense of being about socializing, but group memberships that are important for a sense of self, such as having a child who gets accommodations in schools, having a a dog, or being evangelical Christian) don’t necessarily lead to policy affiliation. Not everyone with a dog wants off-leash dog parks, after all.

Good political figures should be able to look out for lots of different kinds of people; that’s what democracy requires. Diversity is a fact.

But a politics of identification assumes that identity is stable and monocausally determines policy affiliation. With unintentional irony, self-described “right wing” media figures throw themselves around about “the left” engaging in “identity politics,” yet that’s what they offer to their audience: the assumption that their identity (being “conservative”) necessarily leads to one political agenda (that is never clearly stated in the affirmative). It’s generally what’s called a “negative identity”—people are “conservative” just because they aren’t “liberal” (and vice versa).

What people call “right-wing” politics should be called reactionary toxic populist nationalism. It isn’t conservative. Conservativism is a political ideology that, although I disagree with it, even I will say is generally internally coherent and principled. Pro-Trump politics isn’t internally coherent or principled—it’s irrational factionalism. Using a private server is terrible, unless it’s a Trump family member. Pornography is terrible, unless it’s a Trump family member. A problematic charity is terrible, unless it’s Trump’s. There are no principles that are applied consistently across groups.

Supporting Trump comes from two sources. First, there’s charismatic leadership. He’s decisive and confident and (they think) successful. People drawn to Trump for this reason believe that politics isn’t complicated, that the right solution is obvious, and that politicians make things unnecessarily complicated because they’re doofuses. They believe that “regular people” (like them) are screwed over by our current political system, and that Trump understands them, and is looking out for them. They know he isn’t a doofus because he says things are simple, he’s confident he can solve them, and they saw him be decisive on a (scripted) TV show. He feels transparent to them.

They believe that because everything he says, and even the way he stands, shows that he is clearly a successful guy who gets them and who knows what needs to be done. And he’ll cut through the bullshit and get it done.

And they only pay attention to information that says that what they believe about Trump is true. They reject any criticism of Trump on the grounds that it is criticism. They believe what they believe is true because it’s what they believe, and anything that says what they believe is false must be false because it contradicts what they believe.

These are people, in my experience, who make the same mistake over and over, and who get scammed. A lot. They’re people who are often good and kind, and who believe that Scripture means what it seems to mean to them, and that people are who they say they are. That’s why they get scammed. They believe that the world is not complicated, but that bad people make it seem complicated, and so they like people who are decisive and confident. Con artists are always decisive and confident (so are a lot of badly informed people).

I have to digress and say that, since I’ve spent a lot of my life arguing with all sorts of people, this way of thinking about the world (it’s all really simple, and people just try to make it complicated, and we can solve this problem that no one else has solved by being thoroughly commitment to this simple solution that, for inexplicable reasons, no one else has ever adopted) is all over the political spectrum. It isn’t just Trump supporters (here, for instance, is a nice discussion of how it’s playing out right now among democratic socialists).

Second, many people support Trump in a purely reactionary way—he is NOT “libruls” (whom they believe to be the cause of all problems in the world. He will (and does) crush them, and, since they think libruls cause all the problems, crushing them will solve all the problems. It’s still toxic populism, in that it’s saying that there are some Americans who aren’t really American, whose views shouldn’t be represented (or even discussed), and who should be excluded from power.

Those two kinds of support—here is a strong, decisive person with excellent judgment who will cut through all the bullshit, and here is someone who will purge our government and culture of liberals and their influence—are the two kinds of support for Hitler.

Am I saying that Trump is Hitler? No.

Am I saying that the people who are supporting Trump would have supported Hitler? That is exactly what I’m saying.


Invitation to the Bores (Hitler’s “Table Talk”–RSA talk)

Hitler looking at a map with generals

To the extent that scholars in rhetoric are interested in Hitler (and that isn’t much) the attention is paid to his big rallies and major speeches, but, for purposes of thinking about our current problems with political deliberation, his smaller rhetorical situations are more instructive, specifically, his deliberations with his immediate circle.

The very effective Nazi propaganda machine promoted the “Hitler Myth:” that he (and he alone) had the sincerity, will, stamina, and judgment to lead Germany to the greatness it once had and was entitled to have again (Kershaw, Hitler Myth). His superior judgment enabled him to have brilliant insights—better than supposed “experts”—on topics ranging from interior design to economics. He was particularly prone to showing off this “universal genius” at meals, during which he delivered monologues for the benefit of his inner circle, his most devoted followers—the people most deeply committed to him, and most committed to promoting the myth of him as a universal genius. The paradox I want to pursue in this talk is that those were the people who, because of so much exposure to his opinions and processes of judgment, must have known that he wasn’t a universal genius at all. Yet, they seem to have believed and not believed in his perfect judgment.

Albert Speer, who maintained in his mendacious post-war writings that he avoided the mealtime monologues, describes an illustrative moment, when Hitler lied to his dining companions about having chosen all the marble personally for various buildings. Speer comments:”Hadn’t he noticed that I was sitting at an adjoining table? What so took me aback was and is the fact that he was still clutching at glory in such ridiculously trivial questions” (Spandau 118).

Speer says, “How intense and uncontrollable this man’s desire to show off must have been!” (Spandau 119). It wasn’t just Speer who must have noticed that quality. He mentions that “Hitler quite often presented as the fruit of his own reflections” information that Speer knew had been given him by other experts, and that all of the inner circle knew that Hitler lied when he claimed to read all of a treatise, since he also bragged about only reading the ends of books.

Speer, describing an evening that devolved into Hitler’s “lengthy expatiations on the role of the individual in history” (Spandau 58), says that Hitler’s “relationship to history was sheer romanticism and centered around the concept of the hero. He might well mention Napoleon or Old Shatterhand in one sentence” (Spandau 59). ‘Old Shatterhand’ was the hero of the German author Karl May’s Western novels, which Hitler loved, and which informed Hitler’s understanding of American history and culture (although May hadn’t been to the US prior to writing most of the Shatterhand series). Speer says that “Hitler would rely on Karl May as proof for everything imaginable” including what constitutes the ideal company commander (in the form of May’s fictional Winnetou, Spandau 347; see also Kershaw, Hitler 7, Hubris 15, ). Someone whose assessment of a major foe is grounded in popular novels is hardly a genius, let alone a universal one.

Many of Hitler’s lunch and dinner monologues were later published as a book called Hitler’s Table Talk (an obvious reference to The Table Talk of Martin Luther), or, more accurately, some version of those monologues was. The history of their publication is fraught, and there are reasons to doubt many of the passages (especially regarding religion). There is also reason to think that the published version is more coherent than what listening to them was actually like. Speer says of the published version that it “more or less filtered [Hitler’s] torrent of speech and subsequently smoothed and styled it” (Spandau 345). The book, Speer says, reduced Hitler’s repetition, “the slow, painful process of gestation which could be felt in the way phrases were formed [….] Vivid monologues have been produced out of agonizing long-windedness” (Spandau 346). It’s hard to imagine that the actual talk would have been even more long-winded and incoherent, since reading Hitler’s Table Talk is like reading the transcript of what a narcissistic sophomore in college who thinks he has smoked good weed would say to a room of people who have passed out long ago or are already getting at it on the bunk bed above. It’s hard to read them and not come to the conclusion that Hitler is a bloviating, self-deluded, thin-skinned blowhard.

It’s equally hard to believe that the people at the tables with him didn’t come to that conclusion as well.

There are similar problems with the transcripts of Hitler’s meetings with his generals (Hitler and His Generals). While the post-war narrative promoted by many of Hitler’s generals (that he continually got in their way, that they could have won the war if left to make their own decisions, that they didn’t know about the serial genocides, and that they continually resisted him, and so on) was simply untrue, the deliberations do show a leader not very good at deliberating. Like the meal-time monologues, they have passages of Hitler browbeating, rambling, and being more concerned with being right than with finding the right course of action. As his generals are pressuring him to make a decision, he might suddenly veer off into a windy digression about medals, the racial characteristics of troops, how right he was in some previous disagreement with generals, why his experience as a private means he understands strategy better than any general.

My point is that the people exposed to this blathering and bullshitting would have known Hitler was not a stable genius with universally valid insight. Yet they were the ones who most enabled him and enabled the Hitler myth. Why support him, why support the lie that Germans should trust him? What persuaded them to support him publicly? And the answer is: the way that the power relations inherent to charismatic leadership can inhibit not only deliberation, but doubt of any kind.

Charismatic authority is most famously described by Max Weber, who described it as one of three ways that a ruler can be perceived as legitimate. Charismatic authority comes from the beliefs of the followers, “how followers see things” (Economy and Society page 374). In the relationship of charismatic authority, “supernatural, superhuman, or at least exceptional powers or properties are attributed to the individual” (374). Ian Kershaw summarizes how charismatic authority relies on continually good outcomes for the followers: the power of the charismatic leader is “sustained by great deeds, resounding successes, and notable achievements, which provide the repeated ‘proof’ of the leader’s ‘calling’” (Hitler Myth 9). The charismatic leader must continually surprise his followers with his “universal genius”—that’s why Hitler would grasp at petty successes (like claiming to have picked the marble personally), and refuse to admit errors.

The question is why those obvious moves would work.

And they would work partially because they had to work. The power of the charismatic leader comes from self-confidence, which is necessary for the risk-taking. Thus, the dynamic of charismatic—the need for fawning followers, the need to impress those followers, the need for self-confidence—mean that the charismatic leader him (or her) self has to be the first and most fooled about their own supernatural abilities. And, it’s hard to maintain that level of self-delusion if the people immediately surrounding the leader are even dubious, let alone critical, of the leader. Thus, dissent is treated as disloyalty, and the consequence is that the leader has to be surrounded by people who are, or who believe themselves to be, not as insightful and charismatic.

Oddly enough, it was Speer (who was not and never had been as good at his job as his post-war autohagiographies would claim) who identified the problem with Hitler’s regime: that it put and kept in place people who were weak, corrupt, and just not very good (“inferior” is the term Speer used). Hitler’s “joy” at hearing “news which suited his course of action” and “anger at news which crossed him” (Overy Interrogations 226) meant that people didn’t give him the information, insights, and suggestions that would have led to better decisions (an important theme in Kershaw’s Fateful Choices). Hitler’s emphasis on loyalty, his need to be a universal genius, his faith in himself—all those characteristics meant that he didn’t want people around him who were smarter than he, better informed, or threatening to his ego in any way. As Speer said, Hitler’s “methods of necessity led to weak collaborators for his arbitrary method of choice brought no men with proper qualifications to the right positions” and the “inferiority” of his subordinates ensured that their subordinates would also be “inferior” (Overy 226). Speer draws the conclusion that “A system which makes the selection of the leading personalities dependent solely on the judgment, arbitrary discretion, and whims of the dictators inevitably leads to such results” (Overy 226). And that is the kind of system encouraged by the model of charismatic leadership.

Charismatic leadership, despite serious problems, remains the dominant model of leadership, especially in the popular culture of self-help books and management seminars. Americans’ persistent fascination with charismatic leadership is important for scholars of rhetoric because charismatic leadership is a theory of rhetoric and deliberation. Or, more accurately, it’s a theory of rhetoric that is anti-deliberation. The fantasy of charismatic leadership is that there are people whose ability to lead (that is, both make decisions and motivate others to go along with those decisions [deliberate and persuade]) is not discipline- or field-specific. It’s universal. People with field- or discipline-specific expertise inform these leaders who are then able to discern the correct course of action because they have a kind of judgment—extraordinary insight, vision, they’re great judges of people—that makes their assessment better than anyone else’s. This is an incipiently authoritarian model of power, in that power comes from the supposedly superior judgment of the leader. For a leader to admit error, uncertainty, or ignorance, then, is to reduce their power. Dissent, disagreement, and deliberation have problematic places in systems reliant on charismatic leadership, especially the more that the leader believes in their own charismatic leadership—they come to believe the myths about themselves (see especially Kershaw Hitler Myth 264)

Scholars in leadership have tried to manage the problem of leaders who lead organizations, corporations, and countries right off a cliff (sometimes called “the Hitler Problem,” Tourish and Pinnington 149). by distinguishing between good and bad charismatic leadership on the grounds of outcome and/or the leader’s intention. Both criteria lead one into the ‘no true Scotsman’ fallacy and survivorship bias.

If good charismatic leaders are ones that get good outcomes, then Hitler was a good leader until, at the earliest December of 1941; some Germans began to lose faith in November of 1943, with the encirclement at Stalingrad; and US intelligence reports said that 25% of Germans still believed in Hitler in 1945, as Allied troops were crashing into Germany (Kershaw The End, Gellately Backing Hitler, Evans The Third Reich at War). There is the same problem with assessing leaders of corporations in terms of outcomes–what if they are getting good outcomes through processes that guarantee eventual disaster? Ken Lay of Enron, Eckhard Pfeiffer of Compaq, Adam Neumann of WeWork, Elizabeth Holmes of Theranos, Travis Kalanick of Uber—they were all celebrated as excellent examples of transformational leaders until the moment they weren’t. Until news broke about fraud, dodgy accounting, misleading claims, cultures of bullying and harassment, they were, after all, getting good outcomes–being lauded in the press, successful at finding backers, and effectively silencing dissenters (through intimidation, NDA, nuisance suits). Their methods of leading didn’t change; the outcomes did because the methods became public.

In effect, then, “good” charismatic leadership isn’t really a different management style from “bad” charismatic leadership as long as we measure by outcomes. It’s just leadership with accurate press.

There’s a similar problem with trying to distinguish good from bad charismatic leadership on the grounds of intent—if there is one thing about which people who met Hitler agreed, it was that he sincerely believed that what he was doing was right. Intending to do good, and doing good aren’t the same thing, and believing that one is on the side of good can contribute to exploitative and dishonest practices. The problem with much scholarship on charismatic leadership is that there is a “no true Scotsman” quality about it (leaders who are exposed as exploitative were never really charismatic leaders) as well as survivorship bias (only looking at leaders who seem to be getting good outcomes).

So, why am I talking to scholars of rhetoric about a leadership model backed by scholarship that is largely “no true Scotsman” and survivorship bias? Because, the rhetoric and ideology of charismatic leadership is probably second only to the just world model (in its most powerful form—prosperity gospel) in terms of frames from within which Americans imagine the possibilities, responsibilities, and stases of political discourse. Scholars who care about rhetoric as a critical project, as something that could help people deliberate better, need to understand the extent to which the rhetoric about charismatic leadership pathologizes (and sometimes feminizes) what scholars of deliberation promote as useful and effective deliberation.

Hitler’s rhetoric worked because the people in his inner circle made sure it worked, because he had a wickedly effective propaganda machine that continually presented him as someone who, as Rush Limbaugh said about Trump, “has excellent instincts,” despite all the evidence to the contrary. A large number of Americans think deliberation is unnecessary because the correct course of action (which just happens to benefit them or fulfill their political agenda) is obvious, and anyone who disagrees with them is villainous or the dupe of villainous entities (a way of thinking about politics not restricted to one position). A concerningly large number of Americans believe that the right course of action is to put in positions of power decisive people who get the real people, will refuse to compromise, and are willing to violate any norms of discourse, fairness, process, accountability, precedence, even legality in order to enact the policy every reasonable person knows is right. We are in a world in which “disruptive” is an end in and of itself.

In other words, a large number of people, all over the political spectrum, don’t want a democracy because they don’t want inclusive deliberation, compromise, negotiation, and accountability. They want their way, and they want violence if they can’t get it. Rhetoric is, at its best, the discipline of democratizing deliberation, the alternative to violence. The rhetoric of charismatic leadership is anti-deliberation; its cultural dominance explains a lot, I’m arguing, about our current culture of demagoguery. American worshipping (and I use that word deliberately) of charismatic leadership explains many otherwise odd things about our current political situation.

Speer’s insight was that charismatic leadership is always at least a little at odds with an administration of hiring the best people. The more that we value charismatic leadership as the best kind of leadership, the more that we sideline inclusive deliberation and accountability as political goods.

Passages from Ian Kershaw’s “The Hitler Myth”

Hitler building a road

“The extensified fragmentation of Weimar politics and eventual decline into little more than interest politics in the face of mounting internal crisis, entirely delegitimized the State system itself, wholly discredited pluralist politics, and paved the way for a full acceptance–already by 1932 of around 13 million Germans–of a new basis of unity represented in an entirely novel political form personalized in Hitler’s ‘charismatic’ leadership.

” In such conditions as prevailed in the last phase of the Weimar Republic, of the total discrediting of a State system based upon pluralist politics, the ‘functional’ leadership of the bureaucrat and the Party political politician as the representative of the ‘rational-legal’ form of political domination, imposing laws and carrying out functions for which they are not personally responsible and with which they are not identifiable, lost credibility. Salvation could only be sought with a leader who possessed personal power and was prepared to take personal responsibility, sweeping away the causes of misery and the faceless politicians and bureaucrats who prevail over it, and seeming to impose his own personal power upon the force of history itself [….] (255)

Hitler’s “well-documented fear of personal popularity and the corresponding growth in instability of the regime is further testimony of his awareness of the centrality of his integrative force of his role as Fuhrer. This integration was largely affective, for the most part forging psychological or emotional rather than material bonds. But its reality can scarcely be doubted.” (The Hitler Myth 257)