Monsters and Their Morals: The Danger of Demonizing Nazis

In 1963, Hannah Arendt pointed out that portraying all Nazis as pure evil is incorrect. But next to incorrect, it is also incredibly dangerous.

Eichmann in Jerusalem

Ever since the horror of the Holocaust, the Nazis have become the poster child of pure evil. They are the go-to comparison, the standard point of reference against which the severity or immorality of all other actions is measured – as a benchmark never to be surpassed or superseded. As the epitome of evil, Nazis have filled the position of villain in the story of human history, the antagonist to humanity itself. 

Considering this, one can imagine the moral outcry that ensued when, in 1963, political thinker Hannah Arendt published Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. In this provoking and controversial book, Arendt reports on the trial of Adolf Eichmann, the Nazi official in charge of managing the deportation of millions of Jews to extermination camps and ghettos. 

The controversy arose over the fact that Arendt argued Eichmann was not the wicked, evil, raging antisemitic mastermind behind the Holocaust that many contended him to be, but instead a rather dull, desperate-to-be-a-part-of-something, ambitious bureaucrat who committed horrible crimes not out of wickedness but out of sheer thoughtlessness. Consequently, many argued that Arendt defended this man that many considered a villain.

But amidst all this ruckus, Arendt gets to something incredibly important: it is inaccurate to portray Nazis as pure evil; men like Eichmann were not evil monsters but humans, thoughtless ones, but humans nonetheless. The importance of this point cannot be underestimated, as this demonization and dehumanization is not only inaccurate, it is also incredibly dangerous. For if we think of Nazis this way, we do not learn from atrocity but instead are doomed to repeat it.

Early in the book she writes: “Those who today told Eichmann that he could have acted differently simply did not know, or had forgotten, how things had been.” Arendt suggests that when we discuss or judge Nazis, we must always keep in mind the vast differences between life as we know it and life under the Third Reich for these differences are vital to understanding the gruesome actions of those who carried out the Holocaust.

Morality 

The most crucial difference to consider is that of morality. In the Third Reich, there was a completely different definition of what was deemed moral and what was not. The Nazi system meticulously manipulated its participants’ moral framework until the “normal” moral maxims that prohibit killing, lying, letting one’s neighbor go off to their doom, etc. had virtually vanished and were replaced by maxims that demanded what had previously been prohibited.

This moral reversal was paired with a fundamental characteristic of totalitarian systems: the total absence of opposition. Consequently, as society in the Third Reich had essentially succumbed to Hitler at large, a complete reversal of moral norms had taken place with people ceasing to realize the nonuniversality of these new values. Eichmann himself pointed out, rightfully or not, that “he could see no one, no one at all, who actually was against the Final Solution.” Moreover, some argue that Eichmann was merely a cog in this larger killing machine, unaware of its final product. While this is debatable in the case of Eichmann, the industrialization of killing undoubtedly mitigated the need for many Nazis to question the morality of their actions. 

Instead of attributing the actions of the Nazis to some inherent wickedness, Arendt points to the moral collapse that took place in the Third Reich.

Conscience

In response to this argument, however, the matter of conscience is often raised. Many believe that at the end of the day, a “normal”, sane person must have this little voice in the back of their head saying that what they are doing is wrong, no matter how much the society around them seems to be okay with it. But Arendt rejects this idea that one can always fall back on their conscience to guide them. She writes that:

“To fall back on an unequivocal voice of conscience - or, in the even vaguer language of the jurists, on a "general sentiment of humanity" ... - not only begs the question, it signifies a deliberate refusal to take notice of the central moral, legal, and political phenomena of our century.”

Arendt essentially refutes the idea of an intrinsic steadfast conscience, the idea that all humans deep down know the right thing to do. After all, it is more plausible to think that many Nazis were simply living under a system with completely different moral values that had tainted their conscience than to believe that they were all just evil beings who purposefully did not listen to their conscience, if they even had one. Eichmann showcases this perfectly. Arendt explains he is not an evil monster but a “normal” man who, despite being human and thus supposedly having this “general sentiment of humanity” to fall back on, was complicit in atrocious acts. 

The Danger of Demonizing Nazis

Arendt convincingly makes clear that many Nazis were not evil monsters but often thoughtless humans with a tainted conscience, succumbing to a moral collapse. This is important to remember because there is a grave danger in demonizing Nazis.

If we think of Nazis simply as pure evil beings, we see them no longer as humans. We cease to attribute any human qualities to them, such as having a conscience, which consequently creates a distance between them and us; we are humans, and they were not. And if we believe all Nazis to have been fundamentally different from us, we also believe we are inherently incapable of doing what they did which is where the danger lies.

If we see all Nazis as non-humans, we can always tell ourselves: Well I would never cooperate or be complicit in such evil, for I am no monster, I am a human with a conscience. It essentially allows us to keep believing in the myth of the ‘unequivocal voice of conscience’ that we can always fall back on, the idea that we are human therefore our conscience will prevent us from being evil. This is a soothing, though arguably stupid, and outright dangerous thought.

But assuming most Nazis had a healthy psyche, like Eichmann did, there is no reason to believe that they did not possess a conscience in the same way we “normal” people do. There is, from all appearances, nothing inherently different between the power of our conscience and theirs. And if their conscience was not strong enough to resist partaking in evil, what makes you think yours will be? 

The belief that, at the end of the day, your conscience will save you, allows you to become a passive, uncritical, and thoughtless citizen – an ignorant one. And if there is one thing the Eichmann case teaches us, it is that ignorance makes for a perfect cooperator in evil. You do not have to be aware that those in power suppress opposition; you do not need to critically think about how they oppress parts of the population; and you will not see or simply not care about any other steps taken towards a totalitarian regime as you will remain under the illusion that you, with your steadfast conscience, could never. But you will have realized that the idea of the ‘unequivocal voice of conscience’ is a myth only when it is too late. 

This might sound dramatic but Arendt’s attempt at breaking this narrative of all Nazis being evil, in light of current global sociopolitical developments, is more important than ever. Around the world, and in a certain country specifically, we are witnessing real-time political suppression, reversal of minority rights, and the normalization of political violence which are scary and crucial elements of regimes like the Third Reich. Not to mention some special government employee’s Nazi salute, of course. If we do not recognize the fact that many Nazis were not monsters but humans like us, we will likely succumb to the moral collapse that may lurk around the corner.

In short, in a sinister and ironic way, believing all Nazis to be pure evil opens the door for new evil. It is therefore of the utmost importance to change the way we remember and think of them. Arendt challenges this common narrative, acknowledging the moral collapse and tainted conscience that allowed for these ordinary humans to commit such atrocities. If we do not change this narrative, we will have learned nothing from the horror that was the Nazi regime, and we are doomed to repeat history. Instead of remembering this dark page in history as simply that, Arendt reminds us that it ought to be a cautionary tale. She reminds us to stay vigilant and aware, that the Nazis might have done monstrous things, but most were not monsters themselves, that they were humans just as we are humans. We must actively undertake the complicated task of looking at the evils of history and recognize the shared humanity between them and us.