Americans Have Stopped Looking For Another Hitler
U.S. foreign policy hawks once had an unbeatable trump card: the Hitler analogy. Just convince most Americans to see the leader of any nation as another Hitler, and it was easy to get public support to "get tough," show "will and resolve," and even go to war. Serbia's Milosevich, Iraq's Saddam Hussein, and Al Qaeda's bin Laden were all labeled as new Hitlers. All fell victim to America's firepower.
In recent months the hawks thought they had a rich crop of new
Hitlers: Iran's Ali Khamenei, Syria's Assad, Russia's Putin. Each one seemed
ripe for the Hitler analogy.
According to widely circulated press reports, Ali Khamenei sounded
as anti-semitic as any Nazi when he declared it "acceptable to kill all
Jews" and called Israel's leaders
"animals." Assad, like Hitler, purportedly killed citizens of his
own nation in massive numbers. Putin was perhaps the most Hitler-like. He annexed
foreign territory with the claim that it really belonged to his nation because
so many of his own nationals lived there.
If the Hitler analogy still held its once-invincible sway
over American public opinion, the hawks should be riding high.The U.S. should
be preparing to fight one, two, or perhaps even all three of these foreign
leaders.
Obviously it's not working out that way.
The Russian annexation of Crimea has disappeared from American
headlines as quickly as it arose. Photos of the U.S. secretary of state shaking
hands with Russia's foreign minister, as they discussed plans to ease the
Ukraine crisis, caused hardly a ripple in the mass media.
Renewed
negotiations between Iran and the U.S. and its allies got even less notice.
It's now apparently taken for granted that it's OK to cut a deal with the
Iranians.
The most glaring failure of the Hitler analogy came last
September, when the president of the United States tried to rally public
support for an attack on Assad's Syria. Not only hawks but moderates and even
some doves in the foreign policy elite supported Obama. But their immense efforts failed. The public simply wasn't
interested in "getting tough" against another Hitler.
Part of the reason is that the current crop of new Hitlers
just aren't acting like the original Hitler.
Putin called Barack Obama "to discuss ideas about how to
peacefully resolve the international standoff over Ukraine" as the New
York Times reported -- hardly a Hitler-like move. An NBC news crew, after
traveling 1200 miles along the Russia-Ukraine border, found "no
signs" of the widely but erroneously reported Russian military
buildup.
When the UN passed a resolution calling on Syria to get rid
of its chemical weapons, Assad
simply said, "Of course we have to comply" -- hardly a
Hitler-like response. And the process of removing those chemical weapons is moving
toward completion.
Ali Khamenei has recently tempered
his words about Jews and Israel. Of the Holocaust, he now says, "if it
happened, it's uncertain how it happened." His foreign minister, Javad
Zarif, claims that Iran has never denied the Holocaust.
Ali Khamenei's earlier, seemingly anti-semitic, remarks came
in a legal brief arguing that Iran "would be justified in launching a
pre-emptive strike against Israel because of the threat the Jewish state's
leaders are posing against its own nuclear facilities" -- the very same
kind of argument Israeli leaders have used to justify a potential strike
against Iran. The whole record of Ali Khamenei's rhetoric tends to support
Zarif's recent words: "We never were against Jews. We oppose Zionists."
However all these softening moves by the purported new
Hitlers cannot, by themselves, explain the waning power of the Hitler analogy.
It would be easy enough for the American public to ignore them or to frame them
in ways that bolster the Hitler analogy.
The bitter truth for U.S. hawks is that the public no longer
seems eager to see another Hitler on the horizon.
That poses a huge problem for the hawks. It's not merely
that they have less leverage over public opinion. Even worse for them, they now
have to deal with the question of foreign leaders' motives.
As long as a foreign leader could be portrayed as another
Hitler, the issue of motives never came up.
In American mythology Hitler is the quintessential devil
figure, the man who did evil purely for the sake of doing evil. The motives
that drive most leaders' policies -- national security, power, wealth, pride,
etc. -- are dismissed as irrelevant for understanding Hitler.
As usual in political mythologies, there is no doubt some
degree of truth in this view. How much truth? Historians will go on debating
that question forever.
But in American public memory the case is closed: Hitler's
only motive was sheer evil for its own sake. So there was no way to placate
him. No negotiations, compromises, or changes in U.S. policy could have
affected the Nazi leader's actions one whit. International relations became a
simple battle of America versus the devil. The only sensible option in fighting
the devil's irrational, implacable evil was brute force.
Thus, if any leader could successfully be portrayed as another Hitler, there was no need to ask about that leader's motives. The question would be not merely foolish but dangerous. It would lead us down the primrose path of negotiation and compromise. We would appease the devil, let down our guard, and inevitably fall prey to his next evil move.
The only way to deal with another Hitler, it's assumed, is
the way we dealt with the first one: violence and more violence, until we
compel the enemy's unconditional surrender.
But if the Hitler analogy no longer sways public opinion, we
are less likely to reach reflexively for our guns. So we have psychological
space to think about the motives of leaders like Putin, Assad, and Ali Khamenei.
We can ask how they see us, whether they might be responding
to the policies and actions of other nations -- including our own -- and
whether they might have understandable reasons for the choices they make.
Once these questions are raised, the differences between today's
leaders and the mythic Hitler quickly become apparent.
Putin is understandably afraid that Ukraine might join NATO.
Imagine an American president's response if Mexico considered joining a
Russian-led military alliance. And Putin's afraid that an unfriendly Ukraine
would deprive the Russian navy of its only warm-water port, Sevastopol in the
Crimea.
Ali Khamenei is waging a struggle for regional power with
two much stronger nations, Saudi Arabia and Israel, both massively armed by
huge U.S. aid grants. And he has faced threats of attack, for years, from two
nuclear-armed powers: Israel and the U.S.
In both cases, the leaders' policies are perfectly rational,
judged by the rules of the international power politics game.
Assad's case is different. He faces a powerful internal
rebellion that might well oust him and his regime. Though it's easy to
sympathize with the rebels' cause, it's equally easy to understand that any
leader threatened with rebellion would resist. That's something Hitler never
had to deal with.
Indeed each of the three contemporary situations is
different from Hitler's case. That's inevitable, because every historical
situation is unique; there never really was another Hitler and there never will
be another Hitler.
One of the most potent roles of myth in political life is to
deny that uniqueness, to create a frame that depicts new situations as exact
replicas of old ones. Myth thrives, in part, because it offers a reassuring
sense of familiarity. "Oh, I know what this situation is all about,"
we say, "because it's exactly like one I've been through before."
It's never quite true. But the allure of this mythic message is undeniable.
Which makes it all the more surprising that the American
public, offered three likely candidates for the role of new Hitler, has rejected
all three.
That doesn't mean the mythic power of Hitler is gone
forever. Finding another Hitler is an old habit. It goes back to the beginning
of the cold war, when Stalin became the new Hitler, the "red
fascist." (Never mind that reds and fascists despise each other; myth need
not be troubled by such logical contradiction.) And old habits are hard to
break.
For now, though, most Americans seem ready to break the
habit. We have stopped seeing new Hitlers because we have stopped looking for
them.
Who knows? Maybe it's the beginning of a long-term trend.
Maybe public opinion will grow less and less likely to view the world in the
simplistic terms of America versus the devil.
The idea that national leaders everywhere act for comprehensible
reasons, even when we don't like their policies, might move into the mainstream
of American public discourse. Then Americans might begin to assume that we
should always negotiate, compromise, and acknowledge our own role in creating
international conflicts.
Maybe, some day, the mythic Hitler will finally die. At least
that demise now appears possible.