State of Deception: The Power of Nazi Propaganda by Steven Luckert and Susan Bachrach
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, £28
“Propaganda”, wrote Adolf Hitler in 1924, “is a truly terrible weapon in the hands of an expert,” an observation that he took to heart in promoting and imposing his authoritarian views. From early on Hitler saw the power of the image to convey concepts, whether in the use of the age-old symbol of the swastika (an ancient symbol for the sun) set on a striking red and white background, or in posters and pamphlets that were direct and unequivocal in the message they told, relying as much on image as words. A typical poster affirmed Hitler as the great leader, portraying a towering figure standing in front of vast smiling crowds chanting the slogan: “Yes, Führer! We will follow you!”
For Hitler the difference between propaganda and information did not really exist. To ensure that the aims of the Nazi party were forcibly told he forbade any alternative views, turning propaganda into a relentless stream of brainwashing in which there was only one view, which was that of the Nazis.
State of Deception: The Power of Nazi Propaganda, based on an exhibition at the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, reveals how, in the 1920s and ’30s, the Nazi party used posters, newspapers, rallies and the new technologies to assert the glories of the Nazi state. In a nation dominated by government censorship and outright manipulation of the press, it often became difficult to discern truth from half-truth and complete fabrication.
To attain power, Hitler systematically removed or silenced any opposition and, with an ultra right-wing agenda, spoke directly to the patriotic instincts of the German nation, whether it was in images of the ideal Aryan family, the brave worker or the heroic soldier prepared to die for his country. All is told in images (with minimal text) that remain powerfully expressive, however much their message chills the blood. Some of the most frightening and hard-hitting are the anti-Semitic images of Jews, usually portrayed as short and fat and wearing thick-rimmed spectacles, part of a relentless campaign to vilify them as the enemy of the state with a close allegiance to the evils of capitalism. When the war was going badly, posters bearing slogans blaming the Jews made full use of stereotypes. “He is to blame for the war” shows a hand pointing accusingly at a Jew in a top hat.
One of the few artists who dared criticise Hitler on his own terms was John Heartfield, whose work appeared regularly in Arbeiter Illustrierte Zeitung, the Workers’ Pictorial Newspaper and popular Communist weekly, until he was forced to flee the country. His ingenious photomontages satirised Hitler’s duplicity and double standards. One of his most famous – “Millions stand behind me” – presents Hitler as a puppet of big business who are bankrolling him for their own ends.
State of Deception is a sobering but engrossing account of the way that censorship and control of information can be used to aid the most oppressive regime. A timely reminder that, in our present volatile political atmosphere, it is as necessary as ever to be on guard against half-truths and prevarication.
Emmanuel Cooper
