I have written many times before on the strange history of my scholarly involvement in the so-called “Table Talk” of Adolf Hitler. The most prominent example is the inclusion of my peer reviewed article in German Studies Review, with a new epilogue and commentary, in my book Hitler Homer Bible Christ. It’s the inclusion of that very chapter that lent the Hitler name to the title. But I’ve also been following the work of Mikael Nilsson, a Swedish professor of modern European history who was inspired by my GSR publication to go full Dan Brown on the mysterious Table Talk, researching every conceivable aspect of what on Earth happened with this dubious document and its bizarre history—traveling the globe, speaking to living witnesses or their surviving family, trolling countless archives, of letters and contracts and court records, getting a look at everything from transcripts of lost interviews to often overlooked details like old dust jackets of long-out-of-print editions. I’ve discussed the progress of Nilsson’s work before (in Hitler’s Table Talk: An Update and Hitler’s Table Talk: Another Update). But now, his outstanding book documenting all of this, and everything he discovered, is available as Hitler Redux: The Incredible History of Hitler’s So-Called Table Talks, published under the auspices of the Routledge Studies in Fascism and the Far Right. Which publication I spoke about recently on the In Time show, an episode you might enjoy viewing.

I highly recommend getting a copy of Nilsson’s book and reading it. In fact for more than one reason. Firstly, of course, it is now the definitive account of the Table Talk and the history of its origin, editing, and use. Nothing could be more thorough. From analysis to bibliography, it is the unrivaled one-stop shop for understanding this text’s historiography, and will probably always be. Secondly, it is a fascinating and valuable example of writing the historiography of a text, and how historians of the modern era have such astounding access to source materials that historians of antiquity can only dream of. It is thus a paradigmatic example of how to do history, when such materials actually exist to get at. And thirdly, which relates to my interest (and one you possibly share) in the history of Christianity, it exemplifies a singular important lesson: that even with such vast access to source material, even living witnesses and multiple eyewitness testimony, it can still prove impossible to get at the actual truth behind a myth, and that even when things were written down within a matter of mere days the “official” version of what someone said or did can be wildly distorted by what others thought or wanted them to have said or done; never mind adding to that layers and layers of different persons transmitting this information over decades. And if that’s so for this text, just imagine how much more true this is for the history of Jesus and the early Church.

Myth vs. History

The grand “myth” of the Table Talk is that it is a collection of the verbatim words of Hitler recorded by eyewitnesses and spoken in candid privacy, thus granting us direct access to Hitler’s true thoughts and feelings. This turns out to be untrue in several respects. But on that foundation other myths arose, from the myth that the only English translation ever published (even still the only one being reprinted) accurately reflects the original German (as I proved for GSR, it simply doesn’t; it was derived from a fraudulently doctored French translation, and thus is wholly unusable), to the myth that it reveals Hitler knew nothing about the Holocaust (in fact the notes comprising the Table Talk assiduously avoid and thus lack any reference to secret military or civil policy at all, demonstrating such were among the subjects Hitler avoided discussing when these notes were made) or that he was an ardent atheist (as I proved for GSR, and have noted with further examples in the epilogue I added in HHBC, the original German shows quite the opposite; Nilsson confirms that conclusion).

It was that last myth that led to my involvement, when in 2002 Dan Barker and the Freedom from Religion Foundation hired me to look into the authenticity of the most common “quotes” from Hitler that Christians kept circulating, depicting Hitler denouncing Christianity as a fraud. All of them (curiously) came from this same text. That led me down a rabbit hole of surprise and perplexity that I did my best to get to the bottom of. What I found overturned a long-standing consensus in Hitler Studies (and as such, my article on it for GSR is now often footnoted in published Hitler research now), as I uncovered the fact that the English translation these Christians were using was fraudulent—particularly in the quotes they were using not at all correctly representing the German. I also found a lot else to be suspicious about, but left those questions for Hitler historians hopefully to resolve. Shockingly, though that English translation had been in print and relied upon almost unquestionably for fifty years, almost no one had ever noticed what I uncovered. Publicly, Nilsson found a single exception: Ron Rosenbaum had discovered it, and reported it in his 1998 book Explaining Hitler, but that also went largely ignored; and Nilsson finds in private papers many people had noticed it even long before that, but never reported their finding, or even actively concealed it. Nilsson found my article was the first publication ever to gain this fact wide attention, and even then, the most even I could do was establish the need for much closer scrutiny of the Table Talk as a source. A decade later, Nilsson took up the call. I gave him what help I could, but his research continued vastly beyond any I could do, and has concluded in a marvel of historiographic literature.

As I’ve shown before, it is not the case that myth “can’t” eclipse history within mere decades. The story of the Table Talk shows that myth can eclipse history in a matter of mere years. And without someone like Nilsson taking on the task and still having access to all that evidence remaining (evidence the kind of which is forever lost in the case of Christianity and thus can never be got at now, nor ever was then), the actual history that a myth has eclipsed would never be recovered, or even in any way exposed. Indeed, in the case of the Table Talk, it wasn’t—even after the attention of multiple professional modern critical historians across decades of inquiry. Had Dan Barker and the Freedom from Religion Foundation not paid me to look into it half a century later, I would not have found even what I did, much less published it in GSR (nor, evidently, would anyone else have—with the sole and unnoticed exception of Rosenbaum, the entire field of Hitler historians had simply not even thought to do it, continuing instead to use and trust the Table Talk as a source). And had I not done that, Nilsson would not have been inspired or even thought to have built an entire research project around it, digging up and uncovering an entire mountain of myths, legends, and lies.

Needless to say, no such people even existed in antiquity to do this for Christianity (see my chapter on the difference between between the skills and methods of modern vs. ancient historians also in Hitler Homer Bible Christ); much less did any do it, or anything close (see my demonstration and discussion of that point in Chapters 7, 13, and 17 of Not the Impossible Faith). So from Nilsson’s book we can see how easy it would be—even now but especially in ancient times—to doctor a history and leave it unchallenged in the record for all eternity (see, for example, my recent article How To Fabricate History: The Example of Eusebius on Alexandrian Christianity).

In Hitler Redux, Nilsson not only uncovers countless myths and lies—exposing a lot of what’s been claimed that definitely isn’t true, some of what at least is true, and what remains unknowable despite being asserted as known, or despite what we would very much like to know—but also throughout his account of getting to the bottom of everything he produces a continuing “after action report” of sorts on the performance of academic history in this matter. The whole field pretty much gets a very poor grade. Historian after historian failed horribly in their critical methodology or even honesty, dropping the ball repeatedly, and thus ending up helping to grow and validate the myth of the Table Talk rather than questioning and exposing the reality as should have been their job. For every historian who has touched this subject of inquiry, Nilsson analyzes what they got wrong and, often through a study of their private contracts and papers and correspondence, how and why they got it wrong. This book is thus a handy case study in historical methodology: what historians should, and shouldn’t, be doing when handling sources and developing and testing theories about history.

By the conclusion, you start to get the clear picture, as did Nilsson, that a lot of what went wrong had to do with what one single con artist—the unrepentant Swiss Nazi banker François Genoud—did to manipulate decades of historians into doing his bidding by replicating and validating his own myths and fabrications. A single man behind it all; mostly invisible to the public, as his involvement was barely if ever even mentioned in historical treatments and third-party publications of the Table Talk, and thus all his devices and manipulations went unnoticed until Nilsson uncovered them all. I was among the first to signal this might be the case, as it was my article in GSR that exposed the first evidence of Genoud being the actual fraud behind it, when I uncovered how he doctored his own French translation, and that the English translation was based on that—for reasons I then did not know and could not explain; Nilsson uncovers the hidden truth: Genoud had forced by secret contract everyone involved in producing the English edition—publishers, translators, and its editor and endorser, the renowned Hitler historian Hugh Trevor-Roper—to only use his French as their base text. Nilsson explores various reasons why Genoud did that, though certainty may never be ours, as his motives Genoud took with him to the grave…along with the original manuscript, apparently—no version of which survives (apart from a few pages recovered by the U.S. Army after the war, which I was also for some reason the first to publicly reference beyond merely mentioning they exist; it appears Nilsson may have also located three other notes from it copied from Genoud’s archive that have still never been published, p. 241). In fact, apart from those few sheets (and a mere handful of some photocopied pages reproduced in various places), no person still living has even seen the original notes forming the Table Talk. So really getting to the bottom of things here may be forever impossible now.

You might be wondering how much we can say the Table Talk, even the various surviving German versions (and there are now at least four, and none are in complete agreement), is also fake. The English translation certainly is, at least in all pertinent respects. As also the French contrived by Genoud, upon which doctored text was also based a fraudulent Italian edition as well as the English. But Nilsson found that what German versions we actually have any published edition of now are authentic in the very loose sense of “not forged by Genoud.” There really were notes taken down in Hitler’s bunker of things he was remembered to have said, by people who were there, and those notes were really collated and heavily rewritten by Hitler’s secretary Martin Bormann (notably, infamously, a Christian-hating atheist; there were some of those in the Nazi party, though they were fairly rare, and Hitler wasn’t one of them). And all the varying published German versions do derive from that Bormann manuscript in one way or another. But there are a great many problems with those surviving German texts that still render them highly unreliable (not least the fact that they all disagree). Nilsson extensively explains and demonstrates this point throughout his book.

Problems with Even the German Text

One thing I learned from Nilsson’s book is perhaps something I should have figured all along: Nazis are liars. This is so reliable a prediction I think we can fairly assert it as a Law of the Universe, “If there is a Nazi, they are a liar.” Nilsson proves this repeatedly. Practically every Nazi anyone has ever cited or relied on in reconstructing the history and reliability of the Table Talk, Nilsson catches in at least one demonstrable lie; often several lies; sometimes outrageous lies. This includes every producer, editor, and transmitter of the Table Talk itself. Even those who weren’t Nazis engaged in cover-ups, obfuscations, distortions, misleads, and, sometimes, outright lies, actively deceiving and misleading the public as well as fellow scholars. It’s fascinating as a historian to see how access to a modern scale of source material allows someone like Nilsson to actually prove this, time and again. It powerfully reminds us of how suspicious we ought to be of ancient source material, for which we have almost none of the means Nilsson had at his disposal to test the veracity of our sources today.

This goes far beyond what I uncovered in GSR, that Genoud faked Hitler’s attacks on “Christianity” (the ones Christians keep quoting; those were written by Genoud, and translated by others at his insistence into English and passed off as a translation of the German). When we get back to the source text, the “original” German edited by Bormann, it becomes clear that Hitler was a believing Christian (see my article No, Hitler Wasn’t a Pantheist), albeit having adopted the stance of the peculiar Nazi sect called Positive Christianity. Whereas publicly he remained a Catholic, privately he ridiculed Catholicism as a perversion of the true Christian message and the Vatican as really just a corrupt, ridiculous, power-hungry institution; in other words, pretty much the position of almost any Protestant of his day. Hitler’s views thus correctly got at in what German survives of the Table Talk simply echo views that “were developed and present already in Mein Kampf, and thus contain essentially nothing new at all” (Nilsson, p. 41). His hostility was always against not Christianity but institutionalized religion, “the Church,” as something the state needed to do away with, and replace with every man’s free exercise of an “enlightened” personal Christian faith, in service to the state (very much similar to White Evangelical Christianity today). This context in turn becomes essential to interpreting the more vague passages in the German text, where often the German word Christentum, frequently today translated as “Christianity,” clearly in context always meant for Hitler only Catholicism; likewise the coinage Judenchristentum (Nilsson, pp. 41-42), as Hitler often explained Catholicism to be a Jewish corruption of the original “Aryan” Christianity, under the tainting influence of the “Jewish” Paul. In turn, the German text preserves Hitler’s clear condemnation of atheism (Nilsson, pp. 42-43).

But that isn’t the only problem. The German text is also frequently corrupt. This goes even beyond overt cases where Bormann completely rewrote things Hitler said in the German, removing and adding material, sometimes multiple sentences in Bormann’s own voice (a frequent problem with the text Nilsson points out historians have yet to properly untangle: which German material is actually the words and thoughts of Bormann, a rabid atheist, rather than even a summary of the views of Hitler, an avid, albeit unorthodox, Christian believer). The pages recovered by the U.S. Army (probably, Nilsson shows, from a bombed-out Nazi headquarters in Munich) show extensive rewrites of the original notes in Bormann’s own handwriting; and Nilsson finds many other examples of entire entries written or altered by Bormann. But even apart from that, what Nilsson shows is that all the notes comprising the Table Talk are really just the reminiscences of witnesses, composing in their own words, and from memory as much as a day or more later (only sometimes relying on scant notations made, of single words or partial sentences), what they “thought” Hitler said or meant; and Nilsson is able to prove on many occasions they definitely got it wrong.

For example, in one instance regarding a conversation about Christianity, one of the notemakers, Heinrich Heim, confused Hitler’s quotation of Alfred Rosenberg denouncing Pauline Christianity, i.e. Catholicism, for Hitler himself denouncing all Christianity (Nilsson, pp. 43-44). A comparison of a corresponding entry in Rosenberg’s own diary shows Rosenberg recording only that Hitler agreed on one point, that the German philosopher Houston Stewart Chamberlain had been mistaken to try and “rehabilitate” the Apostle Paul as a real Christian. Heim then recorded this as Hitler saying “Chamberlain’s error was to be a believing Christian,” not at all an accurate account of Hitler’s point (or even Rosenberg’s).

For another example, Nilsson shows that another of the notetakers, Henry Picker, misunderstood something Hitler had said about international banking. Nilsson consults records from other witnesses to the conversation Hitler would have been relating, and thus shows Picker had contrived his own reconstructed “transcript” of Hitler saying something he never did (Nilsson, pp. 68-70). Picker also frequently screwed up names and timelines in his “reconstructions” of things Hitler said, thus falsely attributing his own historical mistakes to Hitler (e.g. Nilsson, pp. 75, 79, 99, 124, 209). Ironically, Picker once claimed Hitler himself had become outraged by inaccuracies in Heim’s recorded recollections of what he’d said (Nilsson, p. 94), and a later editor attests to seeing Bormann’s handwritten note on an entry by Picker arguing Picker had confused who was speaking at the time and thus misreported someone else’s thoughts as Hitler’s (Nilsson, pp. 347-48), which are the sort of observations that do not bode well for the remaining collection, as by all accounts, Bormann was unreliable, and Hitler only rarely checked the notes for accuracy himself (the one instance he caught out, he found out about only by accident). Picker also says he was shocked at the more anti-vatican slant Bormann would add to Hitler’s statements in his edited version (as Picker puts it, “Bormann, in whom underlying confrontations with the churches [such statements] fit excellently into, wanted to have heard it, while I hadn’t heard it,” Nilsson, p. 186). Nilsson confirms by various lines of evidence that Bormann did this, so we know Picker is telling the truth here. This makes even Hitler’s anti-Catholic statements in the Table Talk somewhat questionable.

We similarly find every notetaker engaged in deleting or adding or altering entries to suit their own agendas or assumptions about what Hitler said or what they wanted him to have said. Some editions even omit names and details from the notes (or even whole notes) that this or that publisher considered too embarrassing (the basic thinking being, “We can’t publish Hitler saying that”), which only further compromises the Table Talk as a historical source. Not only Heim, but also particularly Picker, did this, who published his own “edited” versions of some of the German he kept for himself (which thus did not go through the hands of François Genoud). And there are two different versions of even Picker’s German text in print, as he edited it twice. And as we don’t have his original pages—they are now lost—and (as Nilsson shows) Picker (as also Heim) frequently lied about practically everything to do with the Table Talk, we can’t know how much of that editing is Picker and how much actually goes back to Hitler. And even insofar as any goes back to Hitler, Nilsson shows it is not the exact words of Hitler, but just Picker’s or Heim’s (or others’) own skewed summaries of what they think they recalled Hitler saying—dispelling the long-perpetuated myth that the German of the Table Talk was ever a transcript from a stenograph dictation of Hitler’s exact words as he spoke. Nilsson well shows there is no meaningful truth in that legend at all.

Worse, Nilsson shows Picker lied when claiming his published text predated the editing of Bormann; and we know from the recovered pages in Munich that Bormann’s rewrites were extensive, to the point of ensuring we can almost never know if we are reading just Bormann’s words, rather than Hitler’s—even when consulting the two conflicting German editions published by Picker! Much less the later German edition of “most” of the other notes held by Genoud. To complicate things even further, a third Nazi composing some of these notes (the fourth being Bormann himself, who wrote several entries entirely), Arnold Hans Müller, may have been a hard-core Christian who despised hostile remarks against the church (Nilsson, p. 203); notably, I think none of the notes attributed to him even mention religion.

Nilsson engaged a much closer comparison of all the different versions, in all languages, than anyone before. He thus uncovered all manner of new peculiarities. Of particular interest to atheists is an occasion in which the German evidently showed Hitler saying, regarding Christian passion plays, something to the effect of, “In recognizing the importance of this spectacle, and by encouraging it, who can say that I do not act irreproachably Christian.” That is from the French edition of Genoud. But in what may be an earlier version of the German (Picker’s attempt to go back to the notes prior to Bormann’s handwritten corrections), this was written in third person narrative as a recollection about what Hitler said: “In recognizing the tremendous importance of these festivals for the enlightenment of all coming generations, he [i.e. Hitler] is an absolute Christian.” This looks like what was actually originally written down, possibly the next day as a recollected memorandum on what may have been an hour’s long discourse for all we know. It’s a third person recollection, not direct speech; which Bormann and others, Nilsson shows, tended to rewrite into first-person direct speech. But note also how much else changed even in the particular wording, and thus how many ways the meaning has also been changed in the process. It’s pretty hard to get back to what Hitler actually originally said here.

That is point number one. But point number two is more unsettling. For we know the English edition of the Table Talk was produced by translating Genoud’s French. And yet…that edition simply omits this passage altogether. It is extremely strange that a passage in which Hitler himself boasts of being a good Christian got somehow “deleted” from the English translation—the one Christians today are scouring for evidence of Hitler’s atheism. So much for that project. Another example pertains to the Holocaust, where Nilsson finds a statement attributed to Hitler in the Table Talk derives from Genoud’s French which altered the surviving German into making Hitler refer to his extermination of the Jews as a “rumor.” In the German, it is stated as a fact (Nilsson, p. 257).

One Confusion to Disentangle

There is one place I got lost in the book, and that’s when Nilsson attempts to nail down a hypothesis as to how the English text came to have certain peculiarities (pp. 265-66). He develops and argues for the hypothesis that Genoud must have also created a fake back-translation into German from his own fraudulent French and passed that off to the Trevor-Roper-edition translators as the original German, in order to hide his fraud (as otherwise they’d discover his French edition deviates substantially from the German). No evidence of this directly exists; it’s a hypothesis Nilsson has to argue for from a few weird instances of translation in the English that are hard to explain otherwise. But if someone were to skip to this section and read it in isolation, one could be misled into thinking Nilsson is arguing that the whole Table Talk was translated from that faux German manuscript. But that’s not what he means; rather, he means that it was translated “almost entirely from the French” (p. 270) and indeed is usually “a direct translation” from the French “word for word” (p. 187; cf. pp. 240, 243, 258, 270, 293, 312, etc.), but this fake German manuscript was occasionally used to “check” and “correct” that translation from time to time, resulting in a few telltale errors that can be plausibly explained no other way. Thus, Nilsson may have uncovered one of the ways Genoud conned the translators into not noticing his French translation was fraudulent.

I suspect there is a better hypothesis than Nilsson seems to propose, that rather than Genoud fabricating an entire 1000-page fake German text, he only faked any pages the translators asked for when they were uncertain how to translate the French and wanted to compare it to the German in those cases. When they asked for those pages, he faked them as needed. They evidently were since destroyed (as no other evidence of them exists, apart from the effects this process had on the English as uncovered by Nilsson). But this is a quibble. The bigger problem is that the section in which Nilsson defends his hypothesis is confusingly written in a way that could mislead a reader into mistaking even what his hypothesis is, such that it appears to contradict his preceding and following chapters in which Nilsson adamantly maintains that the English directly derives from the French, not a faked German version of the French.

As Nilsson shows (and as I showed in GSR in even more detail), there are countless errors in the English that can only be explained as mistakes made from reading the French, and the English routinely matches the French vocabulary and syntax with such unnatural precision that it even causes a lot of poor or amateurish translations (where, for example, a French word is “translated” by finding the English word that most looks like the French word, rather than actually means the same thing). This is impossible from a fake German translation of the French. Indeed, that’s the case even apart from the fact that, as Nilsson points out, French was Genoud’s native language and he wrote the French text in question, so he could hardly have so badly mistranslated it (for example, he would never confuse a ne que construction with ne que pas, as the English translators did; and no such grammatical form exists in German to create that confusion with). Moreover, had Genoud just faked a whole German version, he would never have mandated in his secret contract with Trevor-Roper that the English only be translated from his French. He’d have just given them the German forgery. This is why I suspect Genoud did not forge a German version; he just forged pages here and there as needed to appease the English translators’ occasional requests to check it (indeed, Nilsson documents several cases where Genoud made excuses for delays in answering similar requests, thus establishing the very pattern I’m talking about). And this is more or less what Nilsson is proposing too (there is “evidence in the text that clearly points to a German text having been used in a few instances,” p. 270, which, he showed, cannot have been the real German text later published).

And How I Unexpectedly Became a Bizarre Part of History

As Hitler Redux is a history of the Table Talk text, I am now a part of that history. I come up a lot in Nilsson’s book. And not just in the obvious sense I’ve mentioned already—that he cites and builds on my work in GSR proving the English edition was fraudulently based on the bogus French edition, and raising numerous other questions yet (at that time) to be answered about even the original German. Nor just in the sense that he corrects some of my work. For example, I misread an instance of casual German cursive in my attempt to recover the name of the person who found the lost pages recovered by the U.S. Army; and I was too gullible in trusting what eyewitnesses and even prestigious historians were claiming about the text—although to be fair, I had no idea they were all lying, a fact Nilsson had to spend years crossing the globe to discover and expose. Rather, I mean I am now a part of the history of this text in an even more bizarre sense: an entire section of Hitler Redux deals with what Nilsson rightly calls “the bizarre affair” of the “new” Enigma edition of the Table Talk (published in 2007), which to a large extent is about me, and my interactions with the CEO of Enigma Books at the time, Robert Miller (pp. 364-83).

I had forgotten about all that, though indeed years ago I supplied Nilsson with copies of all my correspondence with Miller, which becomes crucial source material for Nilsson’s study of what on Earth happened with that Enigma edition. It is now quoted and described extensively in Nilsson’s penultimate chapter. The TL;DR of what happened is this: in response to my published study in GSR, Enigma asked me to produce a new English translation from the actual German (which still to this day has never been done), and I told them I’m the wrong guy for that job, but would gladly take a position as editor for the project, if they met my terms—which mostly involved academic standards I required them to meet, which Nilsson notes was the first time any historian had insisted on such standards in the treatment of this text. None of which standards, it turns out, Enigma had any interest in meeting. They gave up on the project and just reprinted the old bogus English translation instead; mostly, as far as I can tell, for financial reasons. The only thing they added was a new preface by an esteemed Hitler historian I had recommended to them, Gerhard Weinberg, who had provided valuable assistance to me in completing my research for GSR in 2003 and is most notable for being the first person in history to alert historians to the existence of the more-or-less original German pages from the Table Talk recovered by the U.S. Army in Munich (which is how I got in touch with him back in 2002). Weinberg’s note was pretty much ignored for fifty years. Now, he got to cite my article in the Enigma preface and explain that the enclosed Table Talk text was bogus.

The strange turn is that when Nilsson asked Miller why he abandoned the required academic project I recommended and simply reproduced the old fraudulent (and thus entirely useless) English translation of yore, Miller proceeded to shower Nilsson with a litany of lies and lunacy—evidently unaware that I had already given Nilsson our entire correspondence. Nilsson shared Miller’s whackadoo correspondence with me, and in result of which, I am now in the history books as responding, “Wow. Off his rocker.” (Nilsson, p. 375). That entire story is now here told by Nilsson in amusing detail (I found myself laughing repeatedly while reading it). Miller tried to insist it was false that the English was translated from the French, despite literally every actual historian and expert, even his own hire Weinberg, telling him otherwise. He also tried to slag me off as an incompetent amateur, calling me (amusingly) a mere “Latinist.” In fact I had at the time an M.Phil. in history from Columbia University (subsequently earning my Ph.D. as well) and it is precisely my training there in German, French, historical methodology and textual criticism that allowed me to discover and formally publish my findings regarding the Table Talk, which not only passed peer review at German Studies Review but also convinced and was independently confirmed by two notable historians in modern history: Nilsson and Weinberg! Needless to say, Nilsson adequately debunks all of Miller’s accusations and exposes him asserting a number of lies and weird confusions, in every case with documentation (so Nilsson never had to rely on my or anyone’s competing testimony), concluding that “it seems as if almost nothing that Miller has said about this affair has been the truth” (Nilsson, p. 376). Indeed the whole Miller affair really is shockingly bizarre. And entertaining to read.

Conclusion

For all of these reasons, I highly recommend reading Hitler Redux. It contains a lot of not just fascinating history, but fascinating historiography as well. You will witness first hand what it is like to do history, and how historians can (and can’t) fact-check public-facing assertions by diving into private and often almost lost source material of all kinds. You’ll see lie after lie exposed and debunked. You’ll see a myth exploded by a careful inquiry. And you’ll see all the ways even prominent Hitler historians really screwed the pooch here, and why you should always be careful in trusting historians at all—it will also arm you with ideas of what then to look for to tell when you might not be hearing the whole story; when it is, in other words, that you should be at your most suspicious. And, of course, read it to get a full account of how certain we can now be that “all illusions” of any version of the Table Talk (German or otherwise) “faithfully reproducing Hitler’s statements are obsolete and to no avail” (Nilsson, p. 200), which is important, because the “table talks have been used by almost every historian writing about Hitler, National Socialism, and Nazi Germany since 1951” yet “have cited [these notes] as if [they] contained Hitler’s words ad verbatim” (Nilsson, p. 384). It’s not even securely the case that they capture his words at all.

You’ll also learn many unrelated things from this book that you might find particularly interesting for other reasons. For example, one of the sources involved in unraveling the history of the Table Talk manuscript is a certain Nazi by the name Paul Dickopf. We learn Hugh Trevor Roper had secretly tapped him as a source in British intelligence (or else as an American intelligence liason there) asking what they knew about this shady character François Genoud. You heard that right. A Nazi intelligence officer was recruited to work for British and American intelligence immediately after the war. Moreover, apart from confirming to Trevor-Roper that Genoud was indeed with Nazi intelligence and Dickopf had been his handler (itself not very surprising):

[Dickopf] later became the fourth president of the German Federal Criminal Police Office (BKA) 1965-1971 as well as president of Interpol 1968-1972, whose HQ, ironically, was housed in the same building as the former Gestapo, at which time he was a paid agent working for the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). In this position Dickopf recruited many former Nazis into Interpol.

(Nilsson, pp. 260-61)

Uh. Yeah. So, all that happened. Hitler Redux is full of eye-opening gems like that, and touches on all manner of far-reaching things, from WWII art thievery rings to Winston Churchill’s drinking habits.

The only criticisms I have of Redux are that it does contain a number of trivial typos (most of which may just be errors in translating thoughts in another language into English, with grammatical and spelling mistakes like “cite something as authoritative when they,” “make them a better manuscript,” “they accurately reflects,” “that kind of sources,” “this account conflict[s] somewhat,” “Irving never refer[s] to,” “that they [are] forgeries,” “to the extent that [he] ought to have done,” “words or statement[s],” and Bormann in one instance becomes “Bromann” and in another instance “trial” becomes “trail,” etc.), but those are easily overlooked and not a major problem. And sometimes Nilsson’s wording can create confusions, though I found those to be resolved by any complete reading of the book, or else didn’t matter. For example, it is often not clear when “copies” or “photocopies” are mentioned, what exactly is meant in each case (photoplates and photoprints and even photostats are not the same thing as xeroxes, xeroxes are not the same thing as dittographs, and dittos are not the same thing as carbon copies, and none of these are the same thing as manually hand-typed copies). Likewise there is the confusion I already noted regarding Nilsson’s hypothesis of a forged German version being involved in producing the English, which one can only untangle by fully reading earlier and later chapters. But neither of those defects undermines the tremendous quality and value of the work overall.

§

To comment use Add Comment field at bottom or click a Reply box next to a comment. See Comments & Moderation Policy.

Discover more from Richard Carrier Blogs

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading