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Ch. 10: January 24, 2025 - Classroom
Restoring position...
Chapter 10

January 24, 2025 - Classroom

Dr. Brenner stands near the board, cap of a dry-erase marker between his fingers, and wipes his glasses with his tie—once. The door-side seat Chelsa abandoned on Wednesday sits empty. He's expecting a Billy James from the waitlist today. The provost's memo about "avoiding partisan statements" echoes in his thoughts. Today needs clarity without heat.

The handle rattles. The door swings wide enough to bang the stopper.

Billy James fills the frame—red MAGA hat on, boots loud against tile. No apology. No excuse. Three strides across the gap, he drops into Chelsa's chair and hooks the hat on the table edge like a flag planted.

Heads swivel. Breath catches. Dr. Brenner refuses to let the room calcify.

"Mister James," he says while the air still vibrates. "Tell us briefly—who you are and what brought you here."

Billy blinks once, surprised. "Yeah. Billy James. Transfer, Communications. Millerton County—grew up about an hour out. Here because a waitlist spot opened and I want to be in the conversation." The words land clipped but steady.

"Thank you," Dr. Brenner replies, nodding to the room. "Let's make sure reciprocity runs both ways. Quick round—name and major so Billy can map faces."

Nisha leans forward. "Nisha Desai, history and sociology." Marcus follows: "Marcus Washington, history." Jake adds "We know each other" the corners of his mouth tightening just enough to register. Around the horseshoe the roll continues—Sarah Kimbrell, Emily Johnson, Michael Lee, Richard Waters, Sofiia Petrenko, Amir Hassan—each voice staking a brief claim until the room feels mapped again.

"Our core question remains," Dr. Brenner says, underlining the day's header. "What is fascism—and how does it differ from other forms of authoritarianism?" He lets the room settle around the words before he adds, "Today we work the other half of that contrast."

"Before we start, a quick roll call of today's authors," he adds, tapping the margin. "Robert Paxton on fascism as a political repertoire; Roger Griffin on palingenetic ultranationalism—the myth of national rebirth from decay; Umberto Eco's essay Ur-Fascism with its traits; and Juan José Linz's typology for authoritarian and totalitarian regimes. Those are our shared lenses."

"Short anchors first," he says. "Germany's wartime collapse culminated on November 9, 1918, when Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated and leaders proclaimed a republic—the Weimar state born under the shadow of defeat."

"The Treaty of Versailles in June 1919 imposed over 130 billion gold marks in reparations and hardened grievances, while 354 political murders between 1919 and 1923 revealed how fragile the new republic remained." He pauses, lets that number sit. "Hyperinflation peaked in November 1923—one U.S. dollar buying 4.2 trillion paper marks—yet the Dawes Plan delivered a brief so-called Golden Years recovery from 1924 to 1929 before the Wall Street Crash yanked that stability away."

Hitler tried open insurrection first.

"The Beer Hall Putsch on November 8–9, 1923 left sixteen Nazis and four police dead, and the treason trial handed him sympathetic judges who sentenced him to five years Festungshaft—fortress confinement, the most lenient form of imprisonment reserved for political prisoners—he served nine months in Landsberg Prison, where he had a private room, visitors, and time to dictate Mein Kampf, and emerged preaching what he called a legal path to power rather than another coup."

He draws a timeline on the board. "Hitler rebuilt the NSDAP—the National Socialist German Workers' Party—as a national machine. Regional district leaders called Gauleiters ran each Gau, relentless propaganda flights, Sturmabteilung street muscle. All while promising legality. But SA violence—the Brownshirts, the paramilitary wing that intimidated opponents and fought street battles—like the 1932 Potempa murder, where five SA men kicked a Communist supporter to death in his home and Hitler publicly celebrated their brutality, signaled how force and law would intertwine."

Economic collapse propelled the Nazi vote from 2.6 percent in 1928 to 37.3 percent by July 1932. Despite slipping that November, conservative brokers like Franz von Papen—the former chancellor who believed he could control Hitler as vice-chancellor—insisted they could hem Hitler in.

"President Hindenburg—the aging World War I hero who led the Weimar Republic—appointed him chancellor on January 30, 1933." He underlines the date. "After years of Article 48 emergency decrees had normalized rule by fiat."

Dr. Brenner underlines two dates. "From there, the Reichstag Fire Decree on February 28, 1933—issued the day after a suspicious fire destroyed the parliament building and blamed on Communists—suspended core civil liberties: speech, press, assembly, privacy of post and telegraph, and permitted indefinite detention. That decree predated the Enabling Act and made mass arrests legal."

"On March 23, 1933, the Enabling Act authorized Hitler's cabinet to enact laws without the Reichstag or president, including laws that deviated from the constitution. That law transformed a fragile democracy into a dictatorship within weeks."

He caps the marker. “Keep that sequence in your head as we test definitions.”

He draws two boxes on the board and labels them. "Authoritarianism," he says, tapping the first, "per Juan José Linz, limits pluralism, leans on emotional legitimacy, discourages political participation, and invests broad, often ill-defined power in leaders. It wants calm and control."

Tap to the second box. "Totalitarianism aims to transform society via a guiding ideology. Think single mass party, pervasive propaganda, secret police, mobilization from childhood up—high-energy politics all the time. It wants remaking, not just control."

Sarah raises her pen. "So totalitarian regimes actively want people participating—just in regime-approved ways?"

"Exactly," Dr. Brenner says. "Mandatory youth leagues, compulsory rallies, state-run unions. Participation becomes performance of loyalty."

He brackets both boxes. "Fascism can be totalitarian in aspiration, but not all totalitarian regimes are fascist. And plenty of authoritarian regimes avoid the totalizing ideology and mobilization piece."

Jake lifts a hand. "So if a leader controls the courts and the press but doesn't try to overhaul everything with an ideology, we're squarely in authoritarian, not totalitarian?"

"Good—you're drilling into it," Dr. Brenner says, nodding. "Push it further: Is there a mass party fused to the state? Are citizens mobilized into state bodies? Is there an explicit project to reorganize culture and identity? Those yes answers move you beyond garden-variety authoritarianism."

He sketches the 1933 line again—Fire Decree to Enabling Act to Dachau—and writes "means vs. ends." "Emergency powers became routine in Weimar before Nazis arrived. Tools matter even before intent. Once the Nazis have them, those tools power ideological transformation."

Nisha leans forward. "That's the hinge, right? Authoritarians tamp it all down—curfews, press limits, quiet repression. Totalitarians need you marching, saluting, singing. Different emotional economies entirely."

Dr. Brenner nods, marking the board. "Exactly. That distinction is fundamental."

He writes three numbered lines on the board.

Marcus speaks first, measured. "You probably need charisma to get started—to sell the rebirth myth. But once the system's in place, the institutions do the work. Schools, courts, media—they keep it running even if the leader loses his shine."

"Good," Dr. Brenner says. "Paxton would caution that fascism is a repertoire of behaviors, not only a person. Still, early stages usually require a galvanizing figure."

Sarah lifts her pen. "We look at patterns—media control, force, emergency declarations. Not claiming everything is identical. But patterns matter. They're warning signs." She pauses. "Not final diagnoses, though."

"Exactly the historian's instinct," he says. "We name mechanisms first—the specific tools and processes used to concentrate power—labels come last, if ever."

Emily, front-right, ventures, "Mobilization and myth? Authoritarians suppress; fascists replace—state unions, youth groups, total culture."

"Concise and solid," he replies, underlining "replace."

Jake leans in. "With all due respect, Professor—lots of governments use emergency powers and push national pride. If courts still function and opposition parties still win seats, doesn't calling anything fascist just cheapen the term?"

"That's the risk," Dr. Brenner says. "Historians hate lazy comparisons. So we're careful about what we look for: laws that disable checks and balances, forcing people into regime-controlled organizations, merging party and state, and a myth about making the nation great again. Without all of those together, you're probably looking at authoritarian moves, not fascism."

Billy's hand shoots up. "Hang on—'making the nation great again'—is that a dig at MAGA? Because wanting your country to be great isn't some Nazi thing. It's just… patriotism."

Nisha's pen stops mid-word. Jake shifts forward.

Dr. Brenner shakes his head. "Not a dig. Griffin's framework—palingenetic ultranationalism, remember—identifies a specific pattern: the promise to resurrect a mythical golden age that never actually existed. The key isn't that people want their nation to succeed. It's whether leaders construct an invented past, blame scapegoats for its loss, and promise violent purification to reclaim it. That's the fascist myth structure, distinct from ordinary national pride."

Billy laughs—short, hard. "Most folks don't give a sh—" His jaw tightens. "Don't care what you call it. They care if their town's safe, if there's work. Label stuff—that's a game for people who never had to choose between groceries and the electric bill."

Nisha's jaw sets. Her fingers curl around her pen.

Jake nods. He knows that calculation. Millerton taught them both.

Dr. Brenner inclines his head. "Material stakes matter. Our job is to name the machinery producing those outcomes."

He draws a triangle and labels it Courts, Media, Security. "Authoritarian rulers tend to work these levers first: reshape courts to avoid losses, concentrate media to manage narrative, and align security services." He pauses. "Totalitarian projects go further—they create party-controlled youth groups, cultural organizations, one official way to think about art, work, family. Everything runs through the regime."

Marcus raises a hand. "What about taking over unions and worker groups? Is that replacement or just control?"

"In the fascist pattern, it's replacement," Dr. Brenner says. "Dissolve independent unions. Force workers into state-controlled organizations. Authoritarian regimes might just ban unions or crack down without building something new."

Marcus flips open his laptop—pattern recognition, what his thesis trained him for. Scrolls.

"Actually. If we're mapping this against current events—" He pauses. "First week. Twenty-six executive orders on day one alone. Some targeting institutional checks. Schedule F, now called Schedule Policy/Career. Reclassifying civil servants. Seventeen IGs fired, no cause."

His finger stops on the screen. "Others using emergency framing. Border declared an invasion. National emergency powers for deportation." He looks up. "Hitler's first weeks weren't about mass legal changes either. He needed the Fire Decree and the Enabling Act for that."

A breath.

"But the velocity. Both timelines show it. Immediate moves to weaken oversight. Emergency becomes the new normal. Mechanisms differ—Hitler used street violence and Article 48 decrees Weimar had already normalized. This administration uses executive orders, existing frameworks." He meets Dr. Brenner's eyes. "But the sequencing is identical. Target oversight first. Frame crises. Move fast before opposition organizes."

Dr. Brenner nods. "That's solid work. You've identified the core distinction—mechanisms versus patterns. Hitler operated in a parliamentary system already weakened by emergency decrees. The U.S. system has different structural checks. Different constitutional design." He pauses. "But you're tracking exactly what historians look for: who gets targeted first. How fast institutions are pressured. Whether opposition can coordinate."

Nisha glances at the clock. "First week of the new administration. Day one had twenty-six executive orders, including Schedule F—now Schedule Policy/Career—to strip protections from policy-influencing civil servants. An order declaring the border an invasion." She leans back. "Not a one-party state. But rhetoric and paperwork are moving together to weaken independent capacity and cast outsiders as existential threats."

Billy cuts in. "Calling it an invasion is telling the truth. People back home are dying." His hands flatten on the desk. "Government bureaucrats need to be fireable when they block change."

Jake nods. "Executive orders are legal tools. Courts exist. Congress exists. If anything, this shows the system working—policy, lawsuits, elections. Comparing it to Nazi institutions just makes everyone stop listening."

Dr. Brenner raises a palm. "Focus on what's happening, not what to call it. Emergency language. Changing civil service rules. Dramatic framing." He pauses. "We also see courts still working, opposition still active, no single party in control."

He underlines: "diagnostics, not labels."

"Authoritarianism wants things quiet—limits who can participate, keeps people in line, uses institutions as tools. Totalitarian systems want constant activity: youth leagues, cultural control, party rallies, promises of national glory. Fascism adds the story about bringing the nation back to greatness."

He steps into the center. "As historians, we start with sequences and structures: what changed in law, who captured which institutions, how the public was mobilized or demobilized. Labels come last."

Questions ripple through the room—Linz's typology, Article 48's precedent, emergency court powers. He fields each one, scanning faces, nodding.

"For next week," he says, markers clicking shut, "we shift from typologies to processes. Democratic backsliding in the twenty-first century. Bermeo's promissory coups and executive aggrandizement. Levitsky and Ziblatt on mutual toleration and forbearance." He lets that settle. "Read with today's distinctions in mind. Don't flatten every hard-edged policy into the same bucket."

He taps the board. "Hold those three questions. We return to them."

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