A Marxist Critique of Laurence Rees’s Hitler’s Charisma

Laurence Rees’s Hitler’s Charisma joins many works that try to explain the rise of National Socialism by focusing on Adolf Hitler's personal magnetism. Rees depicts Hitler as an exceptionally skilled manipulator whose “charisma” enchanted millions and drove him to power. However, this view is not only insufficient but also deeply misleading. It exemplifies the bourgeois “great man” approach to history, which replaces broader social analysis and political context with individual personality traits and psychology.

Rees’s argument is seen as "fundamentally flawed from a Marxist perspective" because it reverses cause and effect. Hitler’s charisma did not drive fascism; instead, it emerged from specific historical and class contexts. As Trotsky stated: “The leader is always a relation between people; the individual supplies to meet the collective demand.” Rees views charisma as an independent force beyond society, whereas Marxism considers it a social relationship—an ideological distortion reflecting class conflicts in crisis.

Rees’s framework is inherently political because it depoliticizes fascism by concentrating only on Hitler’s personality as its origin. This approach neglects the contributions of the German bourgeoisie, petty bourgeoisie, and betrayals from the workers' party in the historical analysis. As a result, fascism is viewed more as a mass psychological phenomenon rather than a political movement rooted in class conflict. The 'charisma framework' deliberately distorts causal links—a common technique in bourgeois historiography—to conceal fascism's class roots and preserve capitalist legitimacy.

The Class Basis of Fascism

Rees’s perspective misses the social context of Weimar Germany, while Trotsky’s approach begins with class structure. Fascism arose from the fear and despair of the petty bourgeoisie—shopkeepers, artisans, clerks, and ruined peasants—caught between monopoly capital and the organized working class. Trotsky highlights: "Not every exasperated petty bourgeois could have become Hitler, but a particle of Hitler is lodged in every exasperated petty bourgeois.”

Hitler did not originate this movement; rather, the movement influenced him. His “charisma" was a mirror of the collective frustrations of a class teetering on social collapse. Rees’s book overlooks this context, instead portraying Hitler’s appeal as a psychological enigma akin to hypnotic suggestion. This distorts the historical truth.

Rees’s work fundamentally overlooks the influence of the German ruling class. Hitler's rise wasn't solely due to charisma; it was orchestrated by the bourgeoisie—including Papen, Hugenberg, Thyssen, Krupp, and Schacht—who viewed him as a tool to suppress the working class and eliminate democratic rights. As Trotsky stated, “Fascism in power is least of all the rule of the petty bourgeoisie… it is the most ruthless dictatorship of monopoly capital.”

Rees’s book cannot acknowledge this, as doing so would reveal fascism as a product of capitalism rather than Hitler’s personality. Consequently, the charisma thesis is not only incorrect but also politically misleading. 

The Frankfurt School Legacy: Psychology Over Class

Rees’s view exemplifies the postwar shift of the Frankfurt School from class analysis toward cultural and psychological explanations. “By attributing the roots of fascism to Hitler’s personal traits, Rees shifts focus away from the class forces that shaped him," illustrating how his book recasts fascism as a cultural disorder, an enlightenment failure, or a mass psychological problem. As a result, key historical figures—the German bourgeoisie, Social Democratic leaders, and Stalinist bureaucracy—are left out of the narrative.

The primary political risk linked to Hitler’s charisma is the false belief that fascism can be prevented by solely monitoring individual personalities rather than transforming society as a whole. When charismatic demagogues are viewed as the main cause of fascism, the usual 'solutions' focus on vigilance against authoritarian figures, psychological education, and media literacy. Nonetheless, fascism is not just a personality trait; it is, in fact, "a political tool of the bourgeoisie used during times when the capitalist system is no longer sustainable through democratic methods." The key lesson from the 20th century isn't simply to "beware of charismatic leaders," but to develop an independent revolutionary movement led by the working class.

Conclusion

Laurence Rees’s Hitler’s Charisma is a well-produced historical narrative designed for a general audience. However, it lacks depth in theory and may be misleading politically. By concentrating only on Hitler's personal appeal, Rees neglects the economic and social forces that facilitated Hitler’s rise and that could support similar leaders again. The key issue isn't ‘how did Hitler control millions?’ but ‘why were so many people susceptible?’ An in-depth fascism analysis should consider the crisis of capitalism, the decline of the middle class, betrayals by workers’ parties, and actions by the bourgeoisie. Rees’s work, however, avoids these crucial causes, offering merely comfort rather than insight—something society doesn't need now, as the roots of fascism are re-emerging.

 

A Letter to Laurence Rees,

Dear Laurence Rees,

Thank you for your response to my previous message. I understand the practical limitations that influence any historical account, especially one aimed at a wide audience like 'World War Two: Behind Closed Doors.' However, starting the narrative in 1939 carries important historiographical implications. By leaving out the internal party conflicts of the 1920s and 1930s—particularly the rivalry between Leon Trotsky and Joseph Stalin—you inherently omit the political developments that led to the Stalinist regime whose wartime diplomacy you examine.

In your lecture at Coventry Cathedral, you warned of the dangers inherent in “airbrushing” elements out of history.¹ It is precisely in this spirit that I raise concern about the absence of any discussion of Stalin’s systematic destruction of the Marxist generation within the Soviet Union. When you write that Stalin “had no opposition inside the party,”² the reader is left with the impression that this absence was natural or unproblematic. In fact, the lack of opposition was the result of a deliberate and violent campaign to eradicate the Left Opposition and all those who defended the revolutionary internationalism of 1917.

You note that you cannot outline your views on Trotsky without “several thousand words.”³ I recognise the complexity of the subject. Yet your reference to Professor Robert Service—whose biography of Trotsky has been criticised for factual inaccuracies and for diminishing the political significance of the Left Opposition⁴—raises an important question. Do you share Service’s interpretation of the Trotsky–Stalin struggle? I am not asking for agreement with Trotsky’s political positions, but rather for a brief indication of your own assessment of his historical role.

The Great Purges were not merely an expression of Stalin’s personal paranoia; they were a political response to the continuing influence of Trotsky’s ideas and to the possibility of a Marxist alternative to Stalinism.⁵ To exclude this struggle is to present Stalinism as an inevitable development rather than as a counter-revolution within the revolution. This tendency is increasingly visible in recent historiography, including the biographies of Trotsky by Geoffrey Swain and Ian Thatcher, both of whom minimise the political content of the Left Opposition and reduce Trotsky to a marginal or doctrinaire figure.⁶

An accurate understanding of Trotsky’s role—and of the Left Opposition more broadly—is essential for any serious attempt to comprehend the evolution of the Soviet state. Without it, Stalin’s wartime diplomacy appears detached from its political origins, shaped only by geopolitics or personal psychology rather than by the violent suppression of an alternative Marxist programme.

Thank you again for your note. I hope you will consider offering even a brief outline of your views on Trotsky, as this would clarify the interpretive framework within which Behind Closed Doors was conceived and written.

Yours sincerely, Keith Livesey

Footnotes

1. Laurence Rees, public lecture at Coventry Cathedral, date referenced in correspondence.
2. Laurence Rees, World War Two: Behind Closed Doors: Stalin, the Nazis, and the West (London: BBC Books, 2008), p. 94.
3. Rees, reply to author, reproduced in correspondence.
4. For critiques of Service’s Trotsky: A Biography (2009), see David North, In Defense of Leon Trotsky (Mehring Books, 2010), and Bertrand Patenaude’s review in The American Historical Review, 115:3 (2010).
5. See Isaac Deutscher, The Prophet Outcast (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1963), chs. 3–5; Pierre Broué, The History of the Bolshevik Party (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2022), pp. 421–480.
6. Geoffrey Swain, Trotsky (London: Pearson Longman, 2006); Ian D. Thatcher, Trotsky (London: Routledge, 2003). For critical assessments, see Fred Williams, “Two Biographies of Trotsky,” World Socialist Web Site, 2007.

 

David Renton’s Method in the Historiography of Trotsky’s Assassination

The Problem of Historical Method

David Renton’s letter defending Joseph Hansen engages in a broader, ongoing historiographical debate. This debate focuses on the significance of Trotsky’s murder, the extent of GPU infiltration into the Trotskyist movement, and the moral responsibilities of historians when confronting state crimes. Its importance is amplified because Trotsky’s death was more than a Stalinist terror act—it represented a pivotal turning point in the history of international socialism.

Renton’s method—treating each allegation against Hansen as a distinct “charge” requiring proof—demonstrates a common academic tendency to fragment the historical record. It isolates documents from their political context and disconnects facts from the larger patterns they suggest. This approach differs markedly from the major historiographical schools that have thoroughly studied Trotsky’s assassination. To understand Renton properly, we need to consider those traditions.

The Foundational Historiography: Broué, Deutscher, and the Limits of Liberal Scholarship

Pierre Broué: The Pioneer Who Stopped Short

Pierre Broué’s Trotsky (1988) and his research on the Left Opposition are essential references. Broué was the first prominent historian to argue that understanding the assassination requires analysing GPU infiltration. He detailed the involvement of Mark Zborowski (Etienne), the infiltration of Sedov’s circle, and NKVD activities in Paris.

However, Broué never directly addressed Hansen's situation. He accepted Hansen’s public image as a dedicated Trotskyist and did not incorporate the FBI and GPU information into his account. Broué’s approach was thorough but remained limited by his political allegiance to the post-war SWP leadership. Renton’s letter subtly depends on what Broué chose not to say.

Isaac Deutscher: The Liberal Sublimation of Stalinist Crime

Deutscher’s renowned trilogy (The Prophet Armed, Unarmed, Outcast) significantly influenced mid-20th-century views of Trotsky. However, his approach was rooted in moral and psychological analysis rather than detailed investigation. He viewed Stalinist terror as a tragic necessity, minimised the GPU’s covert infiltration of the Trotskyist movement, and saw Trotsky’s murder as the inevitable result of a tragic rivalry. By focusing on personality rather than conspiracy and psychology rather than political structures, Deutscher fostered an intellectual environment where Hansen’s actions could be seen as “murky but normal." Renton’s letter echoes this liberal sense of inevitable fate.

The Soviet Sources: Sudoplatov, Naumov, and the Post‑1991

Sudoplatov’s 1994 account of Special Tasks reveals the GPU’s extensive infiltration into Trotsky’s movement and highlights Rabinovich (“John”) as a key figure in American operations. His account supports the ICFI’s conclusion that the GPU relied on networks rather than isolated agents and maintained contacts within the Trotskyist movement. Furthermore, Sudoplatov’s testimony suggests that Hansen’s secret meetings with Rabinovich are historically significant. Renton’s refusal to discuss this material is deliberate, serving to uphold his overall conclusion.

The Venona Papers and the Harte Confirmation

The Venona decrypts, published after the Soviet collapse, confirmed that Robert Sheldon Harte—the guard whose disappearance facilitated the May 1940 Siqueiros raid—was a GPU agent. This discovery supported the ICFI’s longstanding position and exposed years of obstruction by the SWP leadership. Renton’s letter omits any mention of Venona, as the evidence clearly disproves the notion that GPU infiltration was limited, accidental, or minor.

The ICFI’s Security and the Fourth International Investigation: The Only Systematic Inquiry

The ICFI’s ongoing investigation (1975–present) is the only comprehensive, multi-decade forensic study of Trotsky’s murder. It revealed: Hansen’s hidden contacts with the State Department and FBI, Hansen’s meetings with Rabinovich, Hansen’s protection of Sylvia Franklin, Hansen’s suppression of the Zborowski case, and Hansen’s obstructive actions regarding investigations into Harte and Miller.

The ICFI adopts a dialectical and political approach, considering Hansen’s behaviour as part of a pattern rather than isolated events. Renton, however, dismisses this view. His emphasis on assessing each "allegation by allegation” is not driven by careful scholarship, but by a conscious strategy to prevent forming a comprehensive, clear picture.

Renton’s Method in Historiographical Context

Renton’s letter illustrates a specific historiographical stance that downplays the importance of state infiltration and political conspiracy. It features two key traits: first, a fragmented presentation of evidence—Renton isolates Shaw’s letter, dismisses Hansen’s reply, and overlooks FBI reports, treating GPU meetings as if they never happened. This reflects a liberal viewpoint that considers political conspiracies unlikely unless proven in court. Second, it normalizes secret state contacts—Renton uses his experience in regions affected by recent insurrections to justify Hansen’s actions as typical. This aligns with Deutscher’s moral relativism and the post-Cold War view that clandestine operations are a routine part of political activity.

Renton simplifies the ICFI’s investigation to merely defending Gerry Healy’s reputation, turning a complex political and historical inquiry into a personal dispute. This approach typifies academic efforts that depoliticize revolutionary movements by analyzing them through psychological lenses. Trotsky’s murder was not an isolated incident but the result of a coordinated, multi-year GPU operation involving infiltration of Sedov’s circle, infiltration of Trotsky’s household, manipulation of SWP leadership, coordination with American intelligence, and deployment of multiple agents across continents. No reputable historian—such as Broué, Rogovin, Sudoplatov, or Naumov—considers these elements as independent. Instead, they are part of a single, interconnected political operation. Renton’s approach is inherently unable to recognize such integrated operations, as it is designed to break down complex patterns into isolated fragments.

The Stakes of Historiography

Renton’s letter is not just incorrect; it highlights a larger failure in historical scholarship. The killing of Trotsky was the most significant political murder of the twentieth century, and its significance cannot be fully understood through liberal doubts, academic divisions, or by analyzing the psychological states of political figures.

The ICFI’s investigation uniquely considers the assassination as a political act executed by a state apparatus with strategic long-term goals. In contrast, Renton’s method acts as a form of historical disarmament. Historians face the question not of proving or disproving each claim individually, but of whether they are willing to confront the political reality of GPU infiltration and the involvement of figures such as Joseph Hansen.