Elon Musk used the unmistakable Hitlergruß “Sieg Heil” (Nazi) salute today at a political rally.

This Nazi salute is banned in many countries, including Germany, Austria, Slovakia, and the Czech Republic as a criminal offense. The gesture remains inextricably linked to the Holocaust, genocide, and crimes of Nazis. Such illegal use or mimicry of Nazi gestures continues to be a serious matter that can result in criminal charges due to their connection with hate speech and extremist ideologies.

Elon Musk’s calculated public display of Nazi symbolism has been a long road culminating in this “Sieg Heil” gesture on a political stage. And it represents a disturbing parallel to historical patterns of media manipulation and democratic erosion. The following analysis, based on this blog warning readers for years about Musk’s growing displays of Nazism, examines his very clear Nazi salute through a lens of historical scholarship on propaganda techniques and media control.

As noted by Ian Kershaw in “Hitler: A Biography” (2008), the Nazi seizure of control over German media infrastructure occurred with remarkable speed.

Within three months of Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor, the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda under Joseph Goebbels had established near-complete control over radio broadcasting. This mirrors the rapid transformation of Twitter following Musk’s acquisition, where content moderation policies were dramatically altered within a similar timeframe to promote Nazism.

Many people were baffled why American and Russian oligarchs would give Elon Musk so much money to buy an unprofitable platform and drive it towards extremist hate speech. Today we see that was simply political campaign tactics to destroy democracy. Of course it sunk money. Of course it was a business disaster. Does anyone really think calculating the value of a bomb dropped on democracy is only calculated by Russia in terms of the explosive materials lost on impact?

Copious reporting informs us how the Reich Broadcasting Corporation achieved dominance through both technological and editorial control:

To maximize influence, formerly independent broadcasters were combined under the policy of Gleichschaltung, or synchronization, which brought institutions in line with official policy points. Goebbels made no secret that “radio belongs to us.” The only two programs were national and local information. They began with the standard “Heil Hitler” greeting and gave plenty of airtime to Adolf Hitler.

This parallels the documented surge in hate speech on Twitter post-acquisition. Under the thumb of Elon Musk, the platform exploded with Nazism as researchers noted increased even in the first months. His response to those who cite evidence of this has been to angrily threaten those researchers and erect velvet ropes and paywalls. Staff remaining at Twitter who moderated speech or otherwise respected human life were quickly fired and replaced with vulnerable sycophants, just a few roles left designed to be mere cogs in a digital reich.

The Nazis understood that controlling the dominant communication technology of their era was crucial to reshaping public discourse, as Jeffrey Herf argues in “The Jewish Enemy” (2006). Radio represented a centralized broadcast medium that could reach millions simultaneously. Herf notes:

The radio became the voice of national unity, carefully orchestrated to create an impression of spontaneous popular consensus.

The parallel with social media platform control is striking. However, as media historian Victoria Carty observes in “Social Movements and New Technology” (2018), modern platforms present even greater risks due to:

1. Algorithmic amplification capabilities
2. Two-way interaction enabling coordinated harassment
3. Global reach beyond national boundaries
4. Data collection enabling targeted manipulation

The normalization of extremist imagery often comes within a shrewd pattern of “plausible deniability” through supposedly accidental or naive usage.

The 2018 incident of Melania Trump wearing a pith helmet – a potent symbol of colonial oppression – in Kenya provides an instructive parallel. Just as colonial symbols can be deployed with claims of ignorance about their historical significance, modern extremist gestures and symbols are often introduced through claims of misunderstanding or innocent intent.

So too Elon Musk denies understanding any symbolism or meaning to words and actions, while also regularly signaling he is the smartest man in any room. This contradiction is not accidental, as it supercharges the notion of normalization by someone who uses his false authority to promote Nazism.

Martin M. Winkler’s seminal work “The Roman Salute: Cinema, History, Ideology” (2009) provides crucial insight into how fascist gestures became normalized through media and entertainment. The “Roman salute,” which would later become the Nazi salute, was actually a modern invention popularized through theatrical productions and early cinema, demonstrating how mass media can legitimize and normalize extremist symbols by connecting them to an imagined historical tradition.

Winkler’s research shows how early films about ancient Rome created a fictional gesture that was later appropriated by fascist movements precisely because it had been pre-legitimized through popular culture. This historical precedent is particularly relevant when examining how social media can similarly normalize extremist symbols through repeated exposure and false claims of historical or cultural legitimacy.

Perhaps most concerning is Elon Musk’s pattern of normalization that emerges, right on cue. Richard Evans’ seminal work “The Coming of the Third Reich” (2003) details how public displays of extremist symbols followed a predictable progression:

1. Initial testing of boundaries
2. Claims of misunderstanding or innocent intent
3. Gradual escalation
4. Open displays once sufficient power is consolidated

The progression from Musk’s initial “jokes” and coded references (Tesla opens 88 charging stations, Tesla makes 88 kWh battery, Tesla recommends 88 K/h speed, Tesla offers 88 screen functions, Tesla promotes 88 ml shot cups, lightning bolt imagery… did you hear the dog whistles?) to rebranding Twitter with a swastika and giving open Nazi salutes follows this pattern with remarkable fidelity.

Modern democratic institutions face unique challenges in responding to these threats.

Unlike 1930s Germany, today’s media landscape is dominated by transnational corporations operating beyond traditional state control. As Hannah Arendt presciently noted in “The Origins of Totalitarianism” (1951), the vulnerability of democratic systems often lies in their inability to respond to threats that exploit their own mechanisms of openness and free discourse.

The key difference between historical radio control and modern social media manipulation lies in the speed and scale of impact, similar to how radio rapidly and completely displaced prior media. Hitler poured state money into making radios as cheap as possible to collapse barriers to his hateful, violent incitement propaganda spreading rapidly.

Yet radio still had reach constraints in physical infrastructure that could be managed and countered by state authorities. Social media platforms are on an Internet designed to route around such obstacles, which Russia bemoans as it clocks over 120 “national security” takedown notices sent every day to YouTube. Internet platforms can be transformed almost instantly through policy changes and algorithm adjustments both for and against democracy. This makes the current situation of extreme course change potentially even more dangerous than historical precedents. Information warfare long ago shifted from the musket to the cluster bomb, but defensive measures for democratic governments have been slow to emerge.

The parallel between Hitler’s exploitation of radio and Musk’s control of Twitter raises crucial questions about platform governance and democratic resilience. As political scientist Larry Diamond argues in “Democracy in Decline” (2016), social media platforms have become fundamental infrastructure for democratic discourse, making their governance a matter of urgent public concern.

The progression from platform acquisition to public displays of extremist symbols suggests that current regulatory frameworks are inadequate for protecting democratic institutions from technological manipulation. This indicates a need for new approaches to platform governance that can respond more effectively to rapid changes in ownership and policy.

But it is maybe too late for America, like Hearst realized in 1938 on Kristallnacht how it was too late for Germany and he never should have been promoting Nazism in his papers.

The historical parallels between 1930s media manipulation and current events are both striking and concerning. While the technological context has changed, the fundamental pattern of using media control to erode democratic norms remains consistent. The speed with which Twitter was transformed following its acquisition, culminating in its owner’s public display of Nazi gestures, suggests that modern democratic institutions may be even more vulnerable to such manipulation than their historical counterparts.

Of particular concern is how social media’s visual nature accelerates the normalization process that Winkler documented in early cinema. Just as early films helped legitimize what would become fascist gestures by presenting them as historical traditions, social media platforms can rapidly normalize extremist symbols through viral sharing and algorithmic amplification, often stripped of critical context or warnings.

Future research should focus on developing frameworks for platform governance (e.g. DoJ for laws, FCC for wireless) that can better protect democratic discourse while respecting fundamental rights. As history demonstrates, the window for effective response to such threats may be remarkably brief.

An interesting new dig suggests matrilocality was widespread in Britain around the time that Romans complained about women having too much authority.

Roman writers found the relative empowerment of Celtic women remarkable. In southern Britain, the Late Iron Age Durotriges tribe often buried women with substantial grave goods. Here we analyse 57 ancient genomes from Durotrigian burial sites and find an extended kin group centred around a single maternal lineage, with unrelated (presumably inward migrating) burials being predominantly male.

The report says essentially wealth and power centered around women. Men would enter into the extended families of these women. Romans characterized this matrilocal system as “barbaric”, in one of history’s great ironies. It’s a clear case of propaganda serving political ends rather than any objective assessment of societal sophistication.

Archaeological evidence now suggests the powerful women of Celtic societies possessed sophisticated features that Rome actually lacked and thus was jealous and fearful.

Consider how these two societies handled wealth and power. Rome’s system was brutally simple: the eldest male (paterfamilias) held absolute power over family, property and even life itself. By contrast, the genetic evidence from Durotrigian graves reveals something far more sophisticated: extended families built around powerful maternal lineages, with complex networks distributing wealth and influence through daughters and granddaughters while strategically incorporating talented male newcomers through marriage.

This differed from Rome’s oppressive patriarchy in its remarkable stability. While Roman families regularly battled and tore themselves apart in inheritance disputes, the archaeological record tells a different story for Celtic Britain: generations of wealthy female burials in the same locations, with consistent grave goods suggesting unbroken lines of power and influence. These Celtic “matriarchies” achieved this stability through thoughtful power-sharing between blood relatives and married-in males, avoiding the messy bloody succession crises that plagued Rome’s male-dominated system.

Rome’s dismissal of these sophisticated systems as “barbaric” served multiple ends. At a basic level, painting conquered peoples as uncivilized made conquest easier to justify to their own population. But there was likely a deeper fear at work: the Durotrigian system represented a sophisticated competing model of social organization that directly threatened Rome’s patriarchal power structure. Rather than acknowledge or learn from it, they chose to deliberately mischaracterize it as primitive. It’s a strategy that would be repeated countless times in later colonial encounters, as advanced indigenous systems were painted as “savage” to justify ruthless extraction before destruction.

The archaeological evidence from Britain forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: Rome’s accusations of barbarism often masked their own limitations and insecurities when faced with more sophisticated social systems.

These ancient DNA findings both rewrite our understanding of Celtic Britain and they invite us to question how many other advanced social structures throughout history were deliberately mischaracterized and destroyed, taking with them valuable lessons in human organization that we’re only now beginning to rediscover.

The recent Greenland affair represents a masterclass in how authoritarian regimes exploit democratic institutions to undermine the post-1945 international order. Analysis of Russian media narratives reveals how Trump’s seemingly absurd Greenland statements align perfectly with Moscow’s strategic messaging, designed to normalize territorial acquisition through raw economic power rather than democratic process.

Television host Vladimir Solovyov gave a thumbs-up to Trump’s statements and said that “Finland, Warsaw, the Baltics, Moldova, and Tallinn should come back home.” He remarked: “Do you think I’m joking? No! They should all rejoin the Russian Empire, followed by Alaska.” During the same talk show, military analyst Mikhail Khodaryonok said, “After Trump’s statement, in my opinion, we can now consider special military operations as the norm for resolving arguments between countries. The silence of European leaders clearly confirms this.”

The sophistication of this influence operation becomes even more apparent when examining declassified secret Cold War documents of President Truman and the the methodical groundwork by Russia laid years in advance.

In 2022, a report by the Danish Security and Intelligence Service accused Russia of forging a letter that claimed to be from Greenland’s foreign minister to Republican Senator Tom Cotton in 2019.

The letter stated: “Our government is going to overcome all legal and political barriers… and to organize the referendum on independence of Greenland from Denmark as fast as possible.” Cotton has since bragged about being the one to suggest buying Greenland to Trump.

“It is highly likely that the letter was fabricated and shared on the Internet by Russian influence agents, who wanted to create confusion and a possible conflict between Denmark, the USA and Greenland,” the Danish intelligence report stated.

One is inevitably reminded of the British East India Company’s methodical territorial acquisitions in the 18th century, as well as their understudy America’s methodical territorial acquisitions in the 19th century, although those at least maintained a veneer of defense and legal legitimacy.

The Kremlin’s media apparatus has now shifted into what we might call their ‘triumph phase’, openly discussing the dismantling of post-war international norms with an enthusiasm reminiscent of the 1930s revisionists. Their vision represents nothing less than a return to 19th-century great power politics, complete with spheres of influence and territorial bartering.

Russia could proceed with a sham referendum, à la Crimea, to make a claim on Greenland, Gurulyov suggested. “If Trump Jr. was able to buy someone for a bowl of slop and they’re ready to join America, why don’t we show up with a few Xerox boxes filled to the brim and close this issue once and for all?” he said.

“If all else fails, we can make a deal with Trump and split Greenland in two parts,” Gurulyov added. “Clearly, Denmark will never set foot there again.”

Senator Cotton’s role, not to mention Mussolini’s sons, in this affair bears striking parallels to the useful intermediaries of previous colonial enterprises – though one imagines even Lord North would have blanched at such transparent manipulation. The emergence of an Arkansas senator as the champion of neo-colonial adventurism in Greenland would be merely ironic were it not such a devastatingly effective advancement of Moscow’s broader strategic objectives – a masterclass in what we might term “managed colonial nostalgia.”