Some say that what you don't know won't hurt you. Or will it?
The Ford Motor Company once made an economy car called the Pinto which,
if hit from the rear, could 
easily burst into flames with its doors jammed shut. The maker knew the model was a death trap, but
to save money, the Pinto wasn't recalled for the longest time. A friend of mine had a Pinto. Once, one of its fan blades broke off and
flew through the hood as we were driving down a highway. Luckily, no one was injured. When it came to the Ford Pinto, luck was
everything. Henry Ford (1863-1947) himself
was very lucky. He finished only the
fifth grade but went on to become an industrial magnate. A born machinist, neither learned nor politically
savvy, he considered running for President in the 1920's, his name already synonymous
with success. As a boy, he knew what he
wanted to do: tinker with mechanisms at
the kitchen table rather than toil on the family farm. When he finally left home, with or without
his father's blessing, he joined the race to invent the horseless carriage. When his "Model T" came out in 1908,
he found a way to manufacture it cheaply and fast: the factory assembly line. His workers in Michigan tolerated harsh conditions
but Ford, soon a multi-millionaire, paid them decently up until the Great
Depression (because as long as laborers could afford an auto, they guaranteed
new sales.) In Hitler's Germany the same
thing was happening with the Volkswagen, "the people's car." Like Ford, Hitler wanted all citizens to own
one. Ford, like Hitler, despised labor
unions and resisted them, at least until 1941.
The fact is, Ford and Hitler were agreed. Hitler once told an American reporter, "I
regard Ford as my inspiration." The
great industrialist's portrait was displayed in Hitler's office. Hitler had also been inspired by another
American, an anti-Semitic lawyer named Madison Grant whose pseudo-scientific The Passing of the Great Race (1916)
contributed to Hitler's Mein Kampf. (See my article, LONG SHADOWS OVER THE SHOAH.) But it wasn't only Ford's non-unionized empire
that inspired Hitler; it was also his war against Jewry. Ford stockpiled copies of a phony book known
as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion,
a Russian "forgery" which claimed the existence of an international
Jewish conspiracy. Ford had the phony
book printed in his private newspaper as if it were news and further assuaged his
"political" ambitions by regularly publishing anti-Semitic articles
in The Dearborn Independent, a town
newspaper purchased by him in 1918. Ford's
4-volume collection of hateful journalism enthused Hitler: The
International Jew: The World's Foremost Problem (1921). In his paper, distributed by Ford dealerships
all over America, Henry Ford blamed Jews for everything from labor unions to jazz
to World War I. He lived in the same era
as Madison Grant, back when Europe's "tired and poor" were entering the
U.S. in droves. The kneejerk reaction of
xenophobes had provoked a wave of "scientific racism" in the U.S. at
the end of the 19th century. Unwarranted
clannishness was similarly reflected in increased KKK membership during the
1920's. Virulent anti-Semitism was what
bound Ford and Hitler. Throughout the 1930's,
Ford factories furnished untold tens of thousands of trucks for the Wehrmacht. In 1938, Henry Ford received the highest Nazi
medal allowed foreigners, the Order 
of the German Eagle, "for service
rendered." In 1939, Ford sent
"AH" a large gift of German marks for his birthday. Such facts speak for themselves. Recently, Ford's heirs quietly sold an
unremarkable Cezanne for $100 million, a drop in the bucket for them; the
proceeds will be spent on the old Ford mansion, kept up in a style Henry Ford's
wife would approve, rather than be donated to the now bankrupt "Motor
City," Detroit, Michigan. How
strange, and how cruel, fate can be. Had
Henry Ford's father not let him indulge his passion for tinkering, the boy
might have resigned himself to farming. In which case, someone else would have
produced the first affordable automobiles and, much later, Henry Ford would not
have contributed trucks to Nazi invasions.
Later yet, several hundreds of unwary Pinto drivers would not have been
gassed and burned inside their economy ovens on wheels. At some point, it seems, ignorance is no
longer bliss. Ignorance, alas,
is what it is: Ignorance. UN’AMERICANA
A VENEZIA
easily burst into flames with its doors jammed shut. The maker knew the model was a death trap, but
to save money, the Pinto wasn't recalled for the longest time. A friend of mine had a Pinto. Once, one of its fan blades broke off and
flew through the hood as we were driving down a highway. Luckily, no one was injured. When it came to the Ford Pinto, luck was
everything. Henry Ford (1863-1947) himself
was very lucky. He finished only the
fifth grade but went on to become an industrial magnate. A born machinist, neither learned nor politically
savvy, he considered running for President in the 1920's, his name already synonymous
with success. As a boy, he knew what he
wanted to do: tinker with mechanisms at
the kitchen table rather than toil on the family farm. When he finally left home, with or without
his father's blessing, he joined the race to invent the horseless carriage. When his "Model T" came out in 1908,
he found a way to manufacture it cheaply and fast: the factory assembly line. His workers in Michigan tolerated harsh conditions
but Ford, soon a multi-millionaire, paid them decently up until the Great
Depression (because as long as laborers could afford an auto, they guaranteed
new sales.) In Hitler's Germany the same
thing was happening with the Volkswagen, "the people's car." Like Ford, Hitler wanted all citizens to own
one. Ford, like Hitler, despised labor
unions and resisted them, at least until 1941.
The fact is, Ford and Hitler were agreed. Hitler once told an American reporter, "I
regard Ford as my inspiration." The
great industrialist's portrait was displayed in Hitler's office. Hitler had also been inspired by another
American, an anti-Semitic lawyer named Madison Grant whose pseudo-scientific The Passing of the Great Race (1916)
contributed to Hitler's Mein Kampf. (See my article, LONG SHADOWS OVER THE SHOAH.) But it wasn't only Ford's non-unionized empire
that inspired Hitler; it was also his war against Jewry. Ford stockpiled copies of a phony book known
as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion,
a Russian "forgery" which claimed the existence of an international
Jewish conspiracy. Ford had the phony
book printed in his private newspaper as if it were news and further assuaged his
"political" ambitions by regularly publishing anti-Semitic articles
in The Dearborn Independent, a town
newspaper purchased by him in 1918. Ford's
4-volume collection of hateful journalism enthused Hitler: The
International Jew: The World's Foremost Problem (1921). In his paper, distributed by Ford dealerships
all over America, Henry Ford blamed Jews for everything from labor unions to jazz
to World War I. He lived in the same era
as Madison Grant, back when Europe's "tired and poor" were entering the
U.S. in droves. The kneejerk reaction of
xenophobes had provoked a wave of "scientific racism" in the U.S. at
the end of the 19th century. Unwarranted
clannishness was similarly reflected in increased KKK membership during the
1920's. Virulent anti-Semitism was what
bound Ford and Hitler. Throughout the 1930's,
Ford factories furnished untold tens of thousands of trucks for the Wehrmacht. In 1938, Henry Ford received the highest Nazi
medal allowed foreigners, the Order of the German Eagle, "for service
rendered." In 1939, Ford sent
"AH" a large gift of German marks for his birthday. Such facts speak for themselves. Recently, Ford's heirs quietly sold an
unremarkable Cezanne for $100 million, a drop in the bucket for them; the
proceeds will be spent on the old Ford mansion, kept up in a style Henry Ford's
wife would approve, rather than be donated to the now bankrupt "Motor
City," Detroit, Michigan. How
strange, and how cruel, fate can be. Had
Henry Ford's father not let him indulge his passion for tinkering, the boy
might have resigned himself to farming. In which case, someone else would have
produced the first affordable automobiles and, much later, Henry Ford would not
have contributed trucks to Nazi invasions.
Later yet, several hundreds of unwary Pinto drivers would not have been
gassed and burned inside their economy ovens on wheels. At some point, it seems, ignorance is no
longer bliss. Ignorance, alas,
is what it is: Ignorance. UN’AMERICANA
A VENEZIA
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