When Leaders Speak the Language of Annihilation

From Nazi Germany to modern conflicts, leaders have repeatedly used fear, trauma, and dehumanisation to justify devastating violence against entire populations.

In the pages of history, one can find chilling parallels between the rhetoric of authoritarian leaders who have sought to dehumanise and annihilate their perceived enemies. Adolf Hitler's justification for the genocide of millions of Jews during the Holocaust, cloaked in the language of existential survival and racial purity, finds echoes in Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's recent speeches about the ongoing conflict with Palestinians. Both leaders have employed a narrative of moral righteousness to justify violence that, in its scope and scale, has drawn accusations of genocide.

Hitler’s rise to power was predicated on the demonisation of Jews, whom he framed as an existential threat to the German nation. His speeches and writings frequently invoked the need to protect the "Aryan race" from Jewish "contamination."

In his January 30, 1939 speech to the Reichstag, Hitler infamously stated,

"If international finance Jewry inside and outside Europe should succeed in plunging the nations once more into a world war, then the result will not be the victory of Jewry, but the annihilation of the Jewish race in Europe."

Hitler’s language here is key: he casts the Jewish people as not just a political or military threat, but as a corrupting force that must be eradicated to ensure the survival of the German people. In this framing, genocide becomes a moral imperative.

Netanyahu’s recent address, marking one year since the October 7 Hamas attack, bears disturbing similarities. His language casts the conflict as a binary struggle between good and evil, between the "children of light" (Israel) and the "children of darkness" (Palestinians).

By invoking biblical references such as "Amalek," an ancient enemy of the Israelites that was to be completely destroyed according to the Bible, Netanyahu is not just justifying military action but framing the extermination of Palestinians as a religious duty.

In one recent address, Netanyahu proclaimed, "We are a people that is determined to spread good and to eradicate evil."

Much like Hitler’s framing of the Jews as an existential threat to Germany, Netanyahu’s portrayal of Palestinians as inherently evil, even invoking dehumanising terms like “human animals,” paves the way for public acceptance of extreme military violence.

Both leaders strategically invoke historical trauma to shield their regimes from moral scrutiny. Hitler continuously referenced the humiliation of Germany in the aftermath of World War I and the Treaty of Versailles, presenting his genocidal policies as a means of restoring national pride and power. Netanyahu similarly invokes the trauma of the Holocaust, a devastating chapter in Jewish history, to justify his government’s policies toward Palestinians. He portrays Hamas, and by extension, all Palestinians, as a threat to the survival of Israel, framing military operations in Gaza not as a punitive action but as a defensive necessity. His repeated calls to destroy Hamas and prevent any future threat from Gaza reflect the kind of annihilationist thinking that echoes Hitler’s language of eradicating Jews to ensure the survival of the German people.

Dehumanisation plays a central role in both leaders' rhetoric. Hitler frequently referred to Jews as "vermin" or "parasites," stripping them of their humanity to justify their extermination. Netanyahu, while perhaps not as crude, has employed similar tactics. His reference to Palestinians as "children of darkness" and his Defence Minister Yoav Gallant's description of them as "human animals" serve the same purpose: to make the public see Palestinians not as human beings, but as threats that must be neutralised.

This language facilitates the moral disengagement necessary to carry out, or tolerate, acts of extreme violence against civilians, such as the Israeli military’s siege on Gaza that has cut off essential supplies and left thousands dead, including women and children.

Hitler's regime systematically isolated Jews, restricting their access to resources, segregating them in ghettos, and ultimately implementing the Final Solution. Netanyahu’s policies, particularly the blockade of Gaza, which has left Palestinians without access to basic necessities like water, electricity, and medical supplies, reflect a similar strategy of collective punishment and containment. These actions, coupled with dehumanising rhetoric, create the conditions for what many now describe as a slow-motion genocide. Just as Hitler’s speeches laid the groundwork for the industrial-scale extermination of Jews, Netanyahu’s rhetoric lays the foundation for the continued bombardment and destruction of Palestinian lives and infrastructure, all under the guise of national defence.

Both leaders have sought to frame their actions as not only justified but divinely ordained. Hitler frequently invoked God in his speeches, claiming that he was carrying out the work of the Almighty by defending Germany from the Jewish threat.

Netanyahu, too, has framed his military campaign as a "holy mission," stating in his recent speech,

"Together we will continue to fight, and together, with the help of God, we will win."

This religious framing adds another layer of moral righteousness to the violence, making it not just a political necessity but a divine mandate. In both cases, the invocation of divine will serves to further insulate the leader from moral accountability, suggesting that opposition to their actions is not just political but sacrilegious.

The most disturbing parallel between Hitler and Netanyahu, however, lies in their use of their people's trauma to justify the suffering of others. Hitler exploited the economic devastation and national humiliation of post-World War I Germany to fuel his genocidal campaign against Jews. Netanyahu, on the other hand, invokes the collective trauma of the Holocaust to justify the ongoing occupation and bombardment of Gaza. In both cases, the suffering of one group is used to legitimize the suffering of another, creating a cycle of violence that is framed not only as necessary but as virtuous.

While the historical contexts differ, the rhetorical strategies used by both leaders share alarming similarities. Both have used existential fear, dehumanising language, and religious justification to create an environment where genocide becomes not only possible but acceptable. The challenge for the international community now, as it was in the 1930s, is to recognise these patterns and confront them before it is too late. History has shown that when such rhetoric goes unchecked, the consequences are catastrophic—not just for the victims but for humanity as a whole.

It is essential to remember that such comparisons are not made lightly, nor are they meant to diminish the unique horrors of the Holocaust. However, the lessons of history demand that we remain vigilant against the use of dehumanising language and rhetoric that seeks to justify violence against entire populations. As the conflict between Israel and Palestine continues to escalate, the world must question whether it is witnessing the early stages of yet another human catastrophe—and whether it has the moral courage to stop it.