In the late 1920s and early 1930s, the architects of the Third Reich—including Adolf Hitler himself—took a profound and deeply analytical interest in the racist legislation of the United States. As awful as it may be to contemplate, the historical reality is that the Nazis took a sustained, significant, and often eager interest in the American example of race law, unequivocally looking to learn from America's institutional frameworks.
In recent years, historians have uncovered considerable evidence of Nazi admiration for a wide range of American practices, programs, and administrative achievements. It is a strange but well-documented fact that the Nazis frequently praised Franklin D. Roosevelt and his early New Deal government. FDR received distinctly favorable treatment in the Nazi press until at least 1936 or 1937, lauded as a leader who had seized "dictatorial powers" and embarked upon "bold experiments" in a spirit akin to the Führer.
Indeed, in Mein Kampf, Hitler praised America as nothing less than "the one state" that had made tangible, legislative progress toward creating a healthy, formalized racist order. Nazi lawyers regarded America—not without reason—as the innovative world leader in creating racist law. While they saw certain democratic aspects to deplore, they found much to emulate, making it highly likely that the infamous 1935 Nuremberg Laws themselves reflect direct American legal influence.
As early as the 1920s, American immigration and naturalization policy—culminating in the sweeping Immigration Act of 1924—conditioned entry into the United States on rigid, race-based tables of "national origins."
It was this exact race-based immigration law that Hitler praised in Mein Kampf, a passage oddly neglected by generations of American legal scholars, even as leading Nazi legal thinkers eagerly followed suit.
Historical American media frequently reflected the era's racial hierarchies and hostile attitudes toward both indigenous populations and expanding immigration.
Historians have also traced American influence to some of the most unambiguously criminal Nazi programs, particularly eugenics and the murderous conquests in Eastern Europe. A ruthless initiative designed to engineer a "healthy" society free of hereditary defects was central to Nazi ambitions in the 1930s. Soon after taking power, the regime passed the Law to Prevent the Birth of Offspring with Hereditary Defects. By the end of the decade, a program of systematic euthanasia that prefigured the Holocaust—including the initial use of gassing—was underway. We now know that behind this horror lay a sustained, institutional engagement with America's robust eugenics movement.
During the interwar period, the United States was not just a global leader in assembly-line manufacturing and Hollywood culture; it was also the vanguard of "scientific" eugenics.
Led by influential figures like historian Lothrop Stoddard and lawyer Madison Grant, this movement aggressively promoted the sterilization of the "mentally defective" and the exclusion of supposedly genetically inferior immigrants. Their teachings seamlessly filtered into the immigration laws and public health policies of the United States.
Furthermore, America was a beacon of anti-miscegenation law, boasting thirty different state regimes—many of them operating well outside the American South. All of these laws, along with their enforcement mechanisms, were carefully studied, cataloged, and debated by Nazi lawyers seeking practical blueprints for racial segregation.
Clinical medical examinations and physical measurements were weaponized by the eugenics movement to classify individuals and surgically engineer a "healthy" society.
The connections run deep and dark. California's aggressive sterilization program directly inspired the Nazi sterilization law of 1934. Operating under the guise of public health, American institutions pioneered the compulsory sterilization of thousands.
The story of Nazi interest in the American example does not end with the eugenics of the early 1930s; historians have carried it into the nightmare years of the Holocaust. It is here that some of the most unsettling evidence emerges regarding the mechanics of territorial conquest. Nazi expansion eastward was accompanied by explicit invocations of the American conquest of the West and its brutal wars against Native Americans.
The Nazis were consumed by the imperative to acquire Lebensraum ("living space") for an expanding Germany that would engulf the territories to its east. For generations of German imperialists, and for Hitler himself, the exemplary land empire was the United States of America.
As historian Norman Rich forcefully concludes, "The United States policy of westward expansion, in the course of which the white men ruthlessly thrust aside the 'inferior' indigenous populations, served as the model for Hitler's entire conception of Lebensraum."
Hitler speechified admiringly about how Americans had "gunned down the millions of Redskins to a few hundred thousand, and now keep the modest remnant under observation in a cage." For decades, scholars failed to write this history because they were looking in the wrong places and employing the wrong interpretive tools.
There are also sinister similarities between American and German technologies of death. The intersection of American industrial innovation and Nazi atrocities encompasses specific mechanisms of execution. In 1924, the first execution by gas chamber took place in Nevada.
In a history of the American gas chamber, Scott Christianson notes that the fumigating agent Zyklon-B was licensed to American Cyanamid by the German company I.G. Farben. This corporate exchange of chemical technology highlights the industrial parallels between the two nations.
Early American gas chambers were outfitted with a chute down which poison pellets were dropped. The inventor of the device, Earl Liston, coldly explained his rationale regarding the mechanical detachment: "Pulling a lever to kill a man is hard work."
Much the same automated method was introduced at Auschwitz to relieve psychological stress on S.S. guards, distancing the executioners from the physical act of killing.
But of course, history does not make it that easy. Nazism was not simply a nightmarish parenthesis in history that bore no relationship to what came before and after; nor was it a completely unexampled racist horror. The Nazis were not simply demons who erupted out of some dark underworld to shatter what was good and just within the Western tradition. There were examples and inspirations upon which the Nazis drew, and American race law was prominent among them.
The point is not that the American and Nazi race regimes were exactly the same, but that the Nazis found examples and precedents in the American legal race order that they valued highly.
But there is no excuse for refusing to confront hard questions about our history and the history of American influence abroad. It has also included aspects of the American past that we might prefer to forget.
We will not understand the history of National Socialist Germany, and more importantly, the place of America in the larger history of world racism, unless we reckon with these facts.
In the early 1930s, Nazi lawyers were engaged in creating a race law founded on anti-miscegenation law and race-based immigration, naturalization, and second-class citizenship law. They went looking for foreign models and found them—in the United States of America.