The black-and-white photos are eerily compelling. A giant airship, the Hindenburg, hovers above the stadium. In another, a runner in white, carrying a torch, leads other runners through the streets. A third shows Adolf Hitler and his entourage as they pass through the Brandenburg Gate. The Führer is standing in his open Mercedez Benz. A fourth shows him arriving in the massive Olympic stadium as 120,000 Germans raise their arms in Nazi salute.
We remember the 1936 Olympics as a pivotal event, showcasing the glory and the infamy of the Third Reich. It took place three years after Adolf Hitler came to power and three years before Germany invaded Poland and World War II began. I think of these games with all their ceremony as I watch the final games of the World Cup, hosted by the United States, Mexico and Canada.
When the Olympics opened in 1936, anyone who was paying attention knew of Germany’s persecution of Jews, Roma and others. As early as 1933, the Nazis had instituted an Aryan-only policy in all athletic organizations. Jews were excluded from sports facilities and associations. Other actions were more sinister.
In April of ’33, the government barred Jews from holding civil service, university, and state positions. That same month it instigated boycotts of Jewish businesses and shops. In May, across the street from the University of Berlin, mobs burned over 20,000 books. That spring, the Nazis opened the first of 23 main concentration camps near Dachau.
In the next two years Hitler pushed through a series of “Nuremburg Laws,” stripping Jews of their citizenship and prohibiting intermarriage. Germany also began compulsory sterilization of the “unfit,” mentally and physically disabled persons in nine categories. Euthanasia would come later.
In the summer of 1936, in preparation for the Olympic games, the Nazi government put on a kinder face for the world. Antisemitic signs and posters were taken down and government pronouncements muted. To show its racial tolerance, Germany included in its Olympic team of 433 athletes one Jew, the star fencer, Helene Mayer, whose father was Jewish.
Considered a triumph of propaganda, the 1936 Olympics showcased Germany as a respectable and welcoming member of the international community, a nation built by hard work, family values and patriotism.
What most Americans remember about the Berlin games, however, was the brilliance of Jesse Owens, who won four gold medals, defying the Hitler’s racial ideology. With his stunning victories, Owens became a household name, with little thought to the racial prejudice he and other African Americans faced back home.
There were 359 athletes in the American team, including 18 African Americans and two Jews. The Jews were Marty Glickman and Sam Stoller, both talented sprinters. Controversy would later erupt when it was learned that on the day of the 4×100-meter relay, for which they had trained, they were pulled from the race, many believe, to spare Hitler further embarrassment.
Despite the success of the Americans, the Germans won the lion’s share of Olympic medals, 38 gold and 101 total, bolstering the Nazis’ claims of Aryan superiority.
As we watch the finals of the World Cup on Sunday in New York, we close one of the most successful international sports events of our time. Sixteen cities in three North American countries have hosted 102 games, rich in ceremony and bonhomie. The 46 teams came from five continents, thrilling fans and spectators with their passion, pride and skills on the pitch.
I’m wondering, though, how we will look back on the 2026 World Cup, and particularly, our country and what was going on out of sight. In writing this, I am not saying things in America are the same as in Germany in 1936. They are not. But there are similarities.
While athletes from around the world have been chasing soccer balls, the government has been chasing immigrants in what it promised would be the largest mass deportation project in American history. The slogan for ramped up enforcement in Maine was titled “Catch of the Day.” Arresting thousands a day in streets and job sites around the country, the government is holding some 70,000 men, women and children in 212 detention centers, where they await deportation. Thousands more are being flown every day to countries they had fled or other unsafe destinations.
Fathers and mothers have been taken from children. Wage-earners arrested have left families stranded. Men and women have been shot and killed, leaving their blood in the streets.
Targeting not only those without documentation, but 1.3 million here legally under the Temporary Protected Status, the government has in effect instituted ethnic cleansing, considered a crime against humanity. Most of those arrested are black or brown.
Before mass deportation began, the President and others engaged in persistent slander of people from Haiti, Africa and Latin America. Is this not reminiscent of the Nazis’ decades-long efforts to dehumanize Jews, necessary before action can be taken against them? Necessary before “the final solution”?
Years from now, we will recall the glorious World Cup games of 2026, a time when athletes and fans from around the world joined us, competed against us and celebrated with us. Yet so much has been going on behind the curtain.
What will we remember?
Photos from the National Archives
Ben Jacques Stories 