When Hitler wasn't Hitler

Hitler, you know, wasn't always Hitler. 

His boyhood wasn't ideal. The old man used to beat on him, used to think his son didn't have a clue about life. When Adolf told him about wanting to do art, the old man sent him to technical school, where he became, quite predictably, a failure.

During the war, the First World War, he was a hero. He suffered significantly, gaining the Iron Cross, the German equivalent of a purple heart, and more. He loved the war with an affection that isn't wholly unusual among some vets--nothing in life, after all, tests the spirits like the actuality and immediacy of death. And he came back angry, confident Germany lost the "war to end all wars" because pointy-headed intellectuals--Jews and Marxists and whoever else--signed the damned armistice.

He took on his anti-Semitism despite the fact that his wartime commander, the man who had recommended he be decorated for bravery, was Jewish. But he wasn't alone. Anti-Semitism in Europe--and America--wasn't rare. As early as 1919, historians claim he held the belief that Germany's problems began somewhere inside its Jewish population. But Hitler still wasn't Hitler. 

He took up with the fledgling Nazi political party when he left the military in 1920. That infamous red Nazi flag with the swastika against a white background in the center?--Adolph Hitler, the artist, designed it. The party itself inflated its rolls to make it appear much bigger than it was. In the political system post-war Germany, it wasn't really much of a player.

He started doing some public speaking when party official noticed his oratorical skills. When conflicts arose in the party, Adolph told the others he was leaving the Nazis. His superiors knew very well that no one else had Hitler's speaking skills. They capitulated, and Hitler took over the party. That's when Hitler began to be Hitler. People--in significant numbers--began listening when his fiery oratory played on nationalist themes, when he derided the scapegoats who kept Germany down, when he appealed to people's sense that they were being left out of the game altogether. 

President Donald E. Trump is not Adolph Hitler. There are no plans in his desk drawer for crematoriums going up behind forests, human death camps. He isn't about to invade Canada and Mexico, our neighbors. He isn't thinking seriously about ruling the world.

But unlike any President in memory, he has an ego that seems insatiable. His absurd apology yesterday was as well-meant as any other falsehood he's fabricated, thousands of them. His performances throughout last week--NATO to Helsinki--made clear that he respects only one person, Vladimar Putin, for reasons no one understands. 

You can say what you'd like about any past President, from Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who wanted to pack the Supreme Court, on down to Barack Obama. What you won't find is anyone so willing to consistently bend the truth as President Donald E. Trump. No one comes anywhere close in sheer voluminous ego. I think Donald Trump would believe, if he thought about it, that he, like no one else, could rule the world. 

That's new in the pantheon of Presidents. Time alone will tell if its truly scary.

Right now, there are moments when it's risky not to believe it is.