Skip to main content
Donald Trump has been compared to Adolf Hitler seemingly since the start of his presidential campaign, but such accusations are meaningless in a time where every politician is at some point referred to as Nazi-ish or Hitler-esque.
Understandably, it can be difficult for an informed voter to know which candidates truly resemble the infamous genocidal maniac, but it's important information to have. So I decided to fact-check claims that Donald Trump reflects the values of Adolf Hitler by asking the only man who could possibly know for sure: Adolf Hitler.
But having a conversation with a deceased German warlord is no easy feat.
The first step was to buy a Hitler action figure, which is a surprisingly difficult undertaking. One would think that a city as rich in weird nostalgia as Portland, OR would be a hub for quirky war criminal figurines. Alas, such is not the case. So instead of popping into some twee tchotchke shop and walking out one Hitler doll richer, I had to order an Adolf action figure off of Amazon, which was surprisingly expensive. But after 5-7 business days, my Hitler finally arrived.
The next step involved scouring the earth for a rare, magical cupboard that could bring action figures to life. And that was actually pretty easy. I found one in my grandma's garage in Newark, New Jersey. Because as it turns out, most of North America's mystic relics are all safely stored somewhere in Newark.
The final step was to learn German, and that took a while. I'll spare you the details, but I've always struggled with conjugating foreign verbs.
Once all these steps were completed, it was time to set my plan into action. I placed the Hitler action figure into the magical cupboard and closed the door.
Before reopening the cupboard, though, I put on my very best suit. Because even though Adolf Hitler was an absolute monster, my mother raised me better than to not dress well for well-known company. I also took some time to plan out what I wanted to say since you only get one chance at a first impression. Being that I was about to have a conversation with the infamous Führer, I wanted to say something that seemed personable and welcoming, but also cold and distant. After much deliberation, I decided to greet Hitler with a casual, "Hey there, buddy."
Upon finally opening the cupboard door, I saw that the small Hitler doll had come to life! But before I could get through a proper introduction, Adolf turned so his eyes could meet mine and shouted out what would be the first few words in our long conversation:
"Holy shit! A giant Nigger!"
Admittedly, those are far from my favorite five words to hear upon first meeting someone. But as I was directly responsible for conjuring the spirit of Adolf Hitler and placing it into a child's toy, I really should've seen it coming. Besides, I can't blame Hitler for staying on brand and, if anything, being insulted by one of the most notorious figures in history will probably be the closest I ever come to being internationally renowned.
Immediately after his initial exclamation, Adolf Hitler calmed down just enough to go on a short tirade about how there were two divots in the back of Black people's skulls that make it harder to learn. I tried to explain to him that science has changed a lot since his day, but he didn't want to hear it.
Slowly, the conversation turned towards small talk, and Hitler and I spoke idly for a while. He asked me if I liked art, and I told him I was a big fan of Basquiat even though I'm not sure who that is. I asked him if he had any regrets in life, and he said, "Maybe I would've reconsidered that whole 'marriage' thing. Talk about a death sentence, huh? This guy knows what I'm talking about!"
It was strange, chatting with Hitler. Despite being a raving bigot, he seemed oddly personable and a little bit frisky. I found myself completely engrossed in his every word, and I legitimately believe that, had he been born in this day and age, Hitler would be hosting a fairly successful podcast instead ordering blitzkriegs.
"So why did you bring me here?" asked Hitler, tired of beating around the bush.
"Well," I said, "There's this guy running for president. His name is Donald Trump, and people keep saying that you and he are a lot alike. He's a passionate speaker, but he's chosen particular races and religious groups as targets for hate and blame. He's also used fear to convince people that they need him, and some think he'll probably be responsible for a lot of death and mayhem if he gets elected. So in some ways, I can see why Donald Trump is a little like you. But people are always comparing modern politicians to you, so I was hoping to get your professional opinion on the matter so I could set the record straight."
Hitler paused for a moment and stroked his trademarked moustache before responding.
"Well, first of all," started Hitler, "I was great for my country. I did fabulous things for the economy. If you lived in Germany in the very early 1940s and were white and Christian and physically fit and felt comfortable pretending you didn't know there was a death camp in your backyard, you loved me. Unfortunately, over the years my reputation has been tarnished by the Jews and the homosexuals and the Negroes and the––"
"Actually," I interrupted, "we're no longer referred to as 'Negroes.'"
Hitler then reminded me in no uncertain terms that he was, in fact, Hitler and that he did not have time for any of my "P.C. Bullshit."
His words, not mine.
"As I was saying," Hitler continued, "yes, many people perished under my reign as Führer. But I took good care of my target demographic. It's not that I was uncaring, it's just that I had very specific standards. So if I'm guilty of anything," Hitler said, winkingly, "it's of being a perfectionist."
It was at this point that I began to realize that Hitler was bothering me. He just had way too much self-assuredness for someone who couldn't even win a war. But I still had questions. So I pressed on.
"But before you were Führer, didn't you use fear to climb to power?" I asked.
"Certainly," said Hitler. "Everyone uses fear to climb to power."
"I dunno, man," I said, "That seems like a pretty bold statement to make."
"Does it? Well, let's see. This Donald Trump fellow, he's running against a political opponent, right?" asked Hitler.
"Of course," I answered.
"Right. And are people afraid of this Donald Trump gentleman?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Is Donald Trump's opponent using that fear to generate support?"
"Yeah."
"See? All you have to do is identify the source of fear. For me, it was the Jews and other various minority groups. What groups is this Donald Trump fellow targeting?"
"Muslims, mostly. But he also dislikes immigrants and racial minorities. He doesn't have a progressive stance on homosexuals or women either."
"What, is this guy stealing my act?" asked Hitler, playfully nudging in my direction. "But seriously, People are pathetic, and fear is every leader's catalyst."
"Okay, sure," I said angrily. "People can definitely be pathetic sometimes. I'll give you that. But, you know what? It seems even more pathetic to prey on the dumb and the poor."
"Oh Christ on a cross!" started Hitler. "Everyone always wants to blame the dumb and the poor when elections go sideways, but poor dumb people don't exist in a vacuum. They just go on being ignored for so long that they get desperate, and that's when new political opportunities arise for people like me. In your country, are the vast majority of educated and socially conscious citizens actively making personal sacrifices in an effort to educate others, or have your highly academic and financially stable members of society fallen prey to elitism?"
"Yeah, I mean I guess that's kind of maybe happening," I said.
"Let me ask you that same question in a simpler way that your divot-skulled brain can comprehend," said Hitler. "When you imagine your nation being run by Donald Trump, does it scare you?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Can you say in good conscience that you did everything you possibly could to help and to educate the misguided human beings who are throwing their support behind the candidate you so fear?"
"I guess not," I said.
"Could you, given your individual set of circumstances, have done more to prevent the root issues that paved the way for Donald Trump's candidacy?"
"Absolutely."
"Well," said Hitler, "then if this Donald Trump is elected, you will live in fear. And for that you can blame Donald Trump and his supporters, but you will know in your heart that some of the blame also rests on your shoulders. So yes, to a certain degree I can see why some might compare Donald Trump to someone like myself. But to an even greater extent, I believe that you and your fellow American citizens bear an uncanny resemblance to the Germans I duped in the 30's, and I can't imagine how much shame that must make you feel."
"Well, maybe it's not to late to make a change!" I said, raising my voice. "Maybe we can avoid making the same mistake the Germans made when they elected you! Maybe we'll be remembered for being the generation that didn't tolerate bad politics!"
"First of all, you're mistaken," Hitler said calmly. "I was never elected. The man who was elected appointed me Chancellor rather reluctantly, and then when he died I manipulated the system to make myself a dictator. So, really, if you Americans legitimately elect Donald Trump, then you're even worse than the Germans I so easily turned into Nazis."
"Secondly," he continued, "no one will remember you. History never remembers the voters. It's the leaders like me who live on forever."
"Yeah but c'mon, dude," I said, "You're remembered for being evil, and nobody wants that."
"Perhaps," said Hitler. "Ideally, one should strive to be remembered as a man of virtue, and I would have been regarded as such had I won the war. Ideals, though, quickly fall apart in a crisis. Thus, one's chief ambition should always be to leave a mark on the world and to be remembered – if not revered – in the pages of history. And that is something not even power guarantees.
"For example," Hitler continued, "who was the 8th president of the United States?"
"I have no idea," I conceded.
"The 10th president of the U.S.?" asked Hitler.
"I'm unsure."
"The 25th?"
"Yeah, I dunno."
"Of course you don't know," said Hitler. "First of all, the divots in the back of your Negroid skull make it impossible for you to learn. Furthermore, I'd bet you dollars to donuts that even the majority of your smooth-skulled White American counterparts can't name most of their nation's past leaders. But you all know who Hitler is, because Hitler changed the world. And that, my genetically inferior Negro friend, is true greatness."
"I think that maybe we have different ideas of what greatness entails," I said.
"No one cares what you think!" spat Hitler. "I'm in history books! I presided over an entire country! I almost took over the world! What do you do? Share your opinions with people who already agree with you and cry about issues you're neither willing to kill nor die for?"
"Hey, that's not fair," I said. "I occasionally do some other stuff!"
"Doubtful," Hitler smirked. "That's the problem with you civilians. You always lack motivation until it's too late, and then you lash out in desperate, ineffective ways."
"Yeah?" I said. "Well you have a micropenis!"
And with that, I slammed the cupboard door shut Adolf Hitler.
When I reopened the cupboard, all life had left the little Hitler doll. What remained was a small toy motioning defensively towards its groin.
And having no desire to own a sexualized WWII figurine, I dropped Hitler off at a Goodwill and carried on with my life.
Willamette Week