I’m reading the fascinating book They thought they were free: the Germans 1933-1945 by Milton Mayer (it’s also one of my book recommendations on the right sidebar).
The author was an American journalist and educator who lived for a time in Germany during the immediate post-WWII period, and interviewed ten “typical” Germans about their attitudes towards the Nazi era. These talks formed the bulk of the material Mayer used for his book, which was published in 1955.
Mayer was at least nominally Jewish, although he hid that fact from his interviewees in order to encourage them to talk more freely. He was also an unrepentant and committed Leftist (as well as a pacifist who opposed World War II), and this agenda is readily apparent in his book.
Why, then, am I recommending it? Because, despite its flaws and those of its author, it remains a work of close observation of a time and a generation that is now either gone or nearly gone, and is a still-relevant study of how ordinary people accommodate themselves to the encroachment of tyranny, both as victims and perpetrators.
A post on a blog cannot possibly do justice to the richness of the information contained therein. Although Germany in the 30s had characteristics that were particular and unique to its own history, culture, time, and place, there remain commonalities that leap out at the present-day reader (at least this present-day reader) in a cautionary and even chilling manner.
My first exposure to Mayer’s work was in this comment by “Artfldgr,” and the excerpts he provided there were so compelling that I got the book from the library and began to read. I haven’t plowed through more than a quarter of it yet (too busy), but the following excerpt grabbed my attention today [emphasis mine]:
None of my ten friends [the interviewees], even today [1955], ascribes moral evil to Hitler, although most of them think (after the fact) that he made fatal strategical mistakes which even they themselves might have made at the time. His worst mistake was his selection of advisers—a backhanded tribute to the Leader’s virtues of trustfulness and loyalty, to his very innocence of the knowledge of evil…
Having fixed our faith in a father-figure…we must keep it fixed until inexcusable fault…crushes it at once and completely. This figure represents our own best selves; it is what we ourselves want to be and, through identification, are. To abandon it for anything less than crushing evidence of inexcusable fault is self-incrimination, and of one’s best, unrealized self. Thus Hitler was betrayed by his subordinates, and the little Nazis with him….
“You see,” said Tailor Schwenke,…”there was always a secret war against Hitler in the regime. They fought him with unfair means. Himmler I detested, and Goebbels, too. If Hitler had been told the truth, things would have been different.” For “Hitler,” read “I.”
The book then veers off (as it often does) into Mayer’s own agenda, and I disagree with much of what he says. But the bulk of Mayer’s work—the interviews with the ten small-town Germans—holds up as a glimpse into a time and a mindset now gone, and yet universal as well.
People remain eternally vulnerable to the forces of tyranny disguised as demagoguery and charisma. In the service of hope and/or self-interest, they make excuses for its excesses and even its crimes. People also tend to cling to their previous beliefs even in the face of evidence to the contrary, because to challenge them would be to challenge the self—its judgments and its actions on behalf of those judgments—and to find oneself guilty of complicity in evil.
That is why a mind is a difficult thing to change.
[NOTE: Please read this related post entitled “Advising Obama: if only Stalin knew.”]

