But if big businessmen did notnbankroll Hitler, who did? Turner’s answernis as simple as it is unsensational:nthe Nazis raised most of the moneynthemselves by charging admission tontheir mass rallies and by insisting uponnprompt payment of Party dues. Volunteernlabor and contributions in kindnconstituted further, if indirect, sourcesnof income. Turner supports this conclusionnwith e’idence that is detailednand convincing, but he harbors nonillusions about its chances of winningnacceptance in academic circles.n”Some,” he writes “will dismiss [hisnbook] as an apology for capitalism andnits author as a lackey of powerfulnvested economic interests.” And althoughnhe does not say so, some willnundoubtedly seek to discredit himnbecause of the scandal that has recentlynrocked the American historicalnprofession.nIt was Turner who first accusednPrinceton historian David Abraham ofnhaving “subjected documents to systematicallyntendentious misconstrual” innan effort to update the Marxist interpretationnof the putative Hitler-bignbusiness nexus. Despite a weak andnunpersuasive rebuttal, Abraham continuesnto receive a good bit of emotionalnsupport from the academic left. Andnnot without reason, for he is far fromnbeing the onh’ historian who tailorsnevidence to fit preconceived theoriesnand political enthusiasms. In the pagesnof the generally trendy New York Reviewnof Books, Theodore Draper hasnonly recentiy dissected the willful misrepresentationnof the history of Americanncommunism by former New Leftistsnwho “had to decide what to do withnthemselves and their political sympathiesnonce the New Left illusion wasntaken away from them.”nBeleaguered as Turner has been fornhaving caught one radical historiannflagrante delicto, he will be heartenednby R.J. Overy’s valuable study of thenNazi leader whom W.D. Snodgrassnhas knowingly characterized in versen(“Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering”)nas a man of many masks and nonface. Overy would agree, for despite itsntitie, his book is in essence an examinationnof Nazi economic policy fromn1937 to 1942, years during whichnGoering was at the zenith of his powernand influence. According to this capa-.nble British historian, Goering’s careernis the story of his efforts to subject thenGerman economy to Nazi control.nNeither he nor his minions had anynuse for private enterprise, because theynwere determined to mobilize the entireneconomy for war. As director of thenFour Year Plan and the mammothnReichswerke Hermann Goering, Goeringnfirst extended Party control overnthe domestic economy; subsequently,nhe sought to “coordinate” economicallynthe expanding Nazi Empire.n”We did not fight this war,” Goeringnonce said, “for the sake of privateneconomic interests.” To be sure, somencapitalists did realize profits during thenNazi }’ears, but their success was incidentalnand purchased at great personalnprice. In due course, for example, allnof the directors of the giant chemicalnconcern I.G. Farben had to becomenParty members. Fritz Thyssen, thatntireless proponent of Nazism, soonnfound it advisable to flee Germany,neven at the cost of forfeiting his considerablenindustrial holdings. Far fromnexercising or sharing power in Hitier’snNew Order, capitalists quickly discoverednthat they could expect nothingnbut expropriation or close supervisionnby the Nazi elite.nIndeed, this deeply ingrained hostilitynto capitalism constituted a majornproblem for Goering. His knowledgenof economics, like that of Hitier, wasnlimited and muddled. Added to that,nhe had initially been advised to plannfor war sometime during the mid-n1940’s — when, to Hitler’s surprise,nthe British and French declared warnover the invasion of Poland in 1939,nthe German economy was not yetnready. Nor, as a consequence, werenthe armed forces, including Goering’snmuch ballyhooed Luftwaffe. Still,nOvery maintains that all would notnhave been lost had the “Iron Man”npossessed the wit to do what was clearlynindicated: rationalize production.nHis failure resulted in part from annunshakable conviction, formed duringnhis service in World War I, that thenpersonal heroism of those engaged inncombat was far more essential to victorynthan support services and production.nTo make matters worse, henshared the disdain of German designersnand military authorities for capitalistnmass production. Incrediblynenough, the war was almost over beforenthe Germans began to manufac­nnnture standardized parts. Overy reportsnthat “the ]u 88 bomber was designednwith 4,000 different types of screw andnbolt and had to be riveted by hand.”nBy the time the more farsighted AlbertnSpeer became head of wartime constructionnin 1942, it was already toonlate.nAll of this is by way of demonstratingnhow far removed Nazism was fromncapitalism and from conservatism. Indeed,nOvery makes it clear throughoutnthat it was a revolutionary movementn”whose sympathies with the conservativesnwere transparentiy tactical andnwhose heritage was 1848 rather thann1866.” The latter part of the argumentnis by no means new; the distinguishednPolish-born historian. Sir Lewis Namier,nadvanced it first in his overheatednRaleigh Lecture of 1944—J848;nThe Revolution of the Intellectuals.nNor is it very convincing. Overy is onnfar more solid ground when he callsnattention to the Nazis’ kinship with thenBolsheviks, not only in the Party’sncontrol of administrative and economicnlife, but also in a shared enthusiasmnfor a “restiess dialectic of violence”nFEBRUARY 1986 / 11n