History has shown us time and again that appeasing dictators only emboldens them. The clearest example of this remains British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s ill-fated policy toward Adolf Hitler in the 1930s. Convinced that war could be avoided through negotiation and concessions, Chamberlain famously returned from Munich in 1938 declaring “peace for our time” after allowing Hitler to annex the Sudetenland. Less than a year later, Hitler invaded Poland, and World War II began. Appeasement did not prevent war—it guaranteed it.
Today, on Holocaust Remembrance Day, we pause to honor the six million Jews and millions of others who perished during one of history’s darkest chapters. But remembrance alone is not enough. The Holocaust was not an inevitable event; it was the result of rising extremism, fueled by economic inequality, political instability, and scapegoating. These forces did not vanish with the defeat of the Nazis. They are with us today, and they are growing stronger, even here in the United States
The Perils of Appeasement: Lessons from World War II and Today’s Conflict in Ukraine
History has shown us time and again that appeasing dictators only emboldens them. The clearest example of this remains British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s ill-fated policy toward Adolf Hitler in the 1930s. Convinced that war could be avoided through negotiation and concessions, Chamberlain famously returned from Munich in 1938 declaring “peace for our time” after allowing Hitler to annex the Sudetenland. Less than a year later, Hitler invaded Poland, and World War II began. Appeasement did not prevent war—it guaranteed it.
Fast forward to today, and we see eerily similar mistakes unfolding with Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine. The United States and its allies, despite early support for Ukraine, have begun to waver, with Washington appearing increasingly willing to grant Putin de facto control over parts of Ukraine in the hope of avoiding further escalation. This is not diplomacy; this is appeasement in real time. And just as it failed in 1938, it will fail again now.
The Munich Analogy: Weakness Invites Aggression
The logic of appeasement is based on a fundamental misunderstanding of authoritarian leaders. Those who argue for concessions believe that aggressors can be reasoned with, that they have a fixed set of demands, and that once satisfied, they will stop. But history shows the opposite: dictators view concessions as weakness, not goodwill.
When Chamberlain and French leaders gave Hitler the Sudetenland, they believed they were preventing war. Instead, Hitler interpreted their capitulation as a green light to take more. A year later, he seized the rest of Czechoslovakia. When the world still failed to act decisively, he concluded that he could invade Poland without serious consequences.
Today, the Trump administration risks making the same mistake by signaling to Putin that there are limits to U.S. support for Ukraine. U.S. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth has all but said Russia will get whatever it wants in order to end the war. Specifically, it is increasingly likely that a negotiated settlement would allow Russia to keep occupied territories—which mirrors Chamberlain’s naïve belief that sacrificing one country’s sovereignty would satisfy a dictator’s hunger for expansion. It won’t.
Putin Is Not Satisfied—And He Never Will Be
Like Hitler, Putin operates on an imperialist ideology. His speeches and actions make it clear that he does not simply want eastern Ukraine—he sees Ukraine as an illegitimate state and believes that much of the former Soviet Union rightfully belongs to Russia. If the West signals that it will not stop him in Ukraine, why wouldn’t he test NATO’s resolve in the Baltics or elsewhere?
We’ve seen this pattern before. In 2008, Putin invaded Georgia. The West issued statements but did little else. In 2014, he annexed Crimea. Again, the world largely let it happen. In 2022, he launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, believing—perhaps correctly—that Western resolve would eventually crumble. If we now force Ukraine to accept a ceasefire on his terms, what lesson does that teach? That aggression pays off.
The U.S. Is Risking a Repeat of 1939
The problem with appeasement is that it assumes peace can be secured without strength. It assumes that dictators can be pacified rather than deterred. But as history has shown, failing to confront aggression only encourages more of it.
If the U.S. pressures Ukraine to surrender land for "peace," Putin will not stop. He will see it as an invitation to push further, whether in Ukraine, Moldova, or even against NATO allies. Worse, other adversaries—China, Iran, North Korea—will take note. Just as Hitler watched the world’s weak response to Germany’s early aggression and concluded that he could take more, other authoritarian regimes will see a weak U.S. response to Ukraine as a signal that force is an effective tool for achieving their ambitions.
What Must Be Done
If we are to avoid repeating the mistakes of 1938, the solution is clear: Ukraine must receive full, unwavering support, and Putin must be decisively defeated. Half-measures will not work. Sanctions must be tightened, military aid must be unrestricted, and diplomatic pressure must remain strong.
This is not just about Ukraine. This is about ensuring that the world’s authoritarians do not believe that they can redraw borders by force without consequence. The failure to stop Hitler led to the most devastating war in human history. The failure to stop Putin now could lead to a similar catastrophe.
The Seeds of Fascism Are Sown in Economic Inequality
How rising economic inequality creates fertile ground for hate and authoritarianism.
Today, on Holocaust Remembrance Day, we pause to honor the six million Jews and millions of others who perished during one of history’s darkest chapters. But remembrance alone is not enough. The Holocaust was not an inevitable event; it was the result of rising extremism, fueled by economic inequality, political instability, and scapegoating. These forces did not vanish with the defeat of the Nazis. They are with us today, and they are growing stronger, even here in the United States
Fascism, with its seductive promises of order and greatness, thrives in times of despair. In the 1920s and 1930s, the Great Depression left millions destitute, angry, and searching for someone to blame. In Europe, this despair paved the way for authoritarian regimes that preyed on fear and hatred. In the United States, we had no immunity to this same rising tide. Fascist movements flourished in our own backyard, from the German-American Bund to the public adoration of figures like Charles Lindbergh, who openly praised authoritarian regimes.
What saved America from sliding fully into fascism wasn’t just World War II but the New Deal. FDR’s sweeping reforms didn’t simply rebuild the economy—they rebuilt hope. They gave people jobs, dignity, and a sense of agency in their future. The New Deal’s investments in public works, social programs, and wealth redistribution were a direct assault on the inequality that feeds extremism. By addressing the root causes of despair, the New Deal left little oxygen for fascism to grow.
But today, we’re watching history repeat itself in ways that should terrify us all. Since the 1980s, policies rooted in deregulation, tax cuts for the wealthy, and the dismantling of social safety nets have created a society where wealth inequality rivals that of the Gilded Age. Millions of Americans are struggling to make ends meet, while a handful of billionaires amass unimaginable fortunes. The cracks in our system have widened into chasms, and through those chasms, fascism is once again rearing its ugly head
Nowhere is this more evident than in the rise of MAGA America and the policies of a new administration that reflect a dangerous form of neo-fascism. From attempts to restrict voting rights and suppress dissent to policies that target immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, and other marginalized communities, we are witnessing a playbook eerily similar to the one used by authoritarian regimes of the past. The politics of division and scapegoating have become a central feature of the MAGA movement, which cloaks its extremism in the language of patriotism and tradition while undermining the democratic institutions that hold our nation together.
This is not alarmism; it is history repeating itself. Fascism doesn’t arrive with a single, catastrophic event. It creeps in gradually, normalizing hate, consolidating power, and exploiting despair. When people feel abandoned by the system, when they are angry and desperate, they become vulnerable to leaders who promise easy answers and someone to blame. This is the fertile ground on which MAGA neo-fascism is taking root.
On Holocaust Remembrance Day, we are reminded of the stakes. The Holocaust did not begin with gas chambers; it began with words, policies, and a slow erosion of democratic norms. It began with leaders who told their citizens that their pain was someone else’s fault—Jews, immigrants, intellectuals, “outsiders.” And it took hold because too many people looked the other way, dismissing the warning signs until it was too late.
If we are to stop the rise of neo-fascism in America, we must address its root cause: inequality. The New Deal showed us the way. By investing in social programs, taxing the wealthy, and ensuring access to good jobs, education, and healthcare, we can rebuild the sense of security and hope that inoculates societies against extremism. This is not about charity; it is about survival. A society where millions live in despair is a society ripe for authoritarianism.
We must also call out fascism for what it is, without fear or equivocation. The MAGA movement’s embrace of authoritarian rhetoric, its demonization of marginalized groups, and its attacks on democratic norms are not just political strategies—they are the hallmarks of a dangerous ideology that has no place in a democratic society. We cannot afford to normalize or dismiss these actions as “politics as usual.” To do so would be to dishonor the memory of those who perished in the Holocaust and those who fought to defeat fascism.
Some will say this is hyperbole, that America is too strong, too exceptional, to fall to such forces. But the lessons of history are clear: no nation is immune. Fascism thrives not in moments of strength but in moments of vulnerability. And right now, our nation is vulnerable.
On this solemn day of remembrance, let us honor the victims of the Holocaust by standing up against the forces that threaten to repeat its horrors. Let us reject the politics of hate and division and recommit ourselves to the principles of equality, justice, and democracy. The stakes are too high to look away, and history will judge us by the actions we take—or fail to take—today. If we want to preserve our democracy, we must confront the rising tide of neo-fascism with the same courage and resolve that defeated it once before. The future of both America and the World depends on it.
