February 20, 1939. Thinly disguised as “a mass demonstration for true Americanism”, a Nazi rally takes place in Madison Square Garden, where 20,000 people cheer the rise of Adolf Hitler and spout anti-Semitic rhetoric.
It’s the evening of February 20th, 1939, at Madison Square Garden in New York City.
26-year-old plumber Isadore Greenbaum silently rages at the people cheering all around him. Holding his hands at his side, Isadore clenches and unclenches his fists and tries not to let his anger show.
Up on the stage in front of him is a 30-foot painting of George Washington. The first President of the United States is flanked by the Stars and Stripes—and two giant swastikas.
Isadore is in the middle of a crowd of supporters from the German American Bund. The Bund advertises itself as a place where Germans in America can reconnect with their homeland. But its leader Fritz Kuhn is an ardent supporter of the Nazi Party, and he has attracted a crowd of 22,000 fellow believers to this rally in the heart of New York. Many wear Nazi armbands and uniformed stormtroopers stalk the aisles.
But not everyone here is a fascist. The young plumber Isadore is a Jewish American, who’s snuck into the rally to witness it firsthand. He’s already listened to hours of hate from the speakers on stage. But now, he watches with disgust as Fritz Kuhn himself struts out to a hero’s welcome. Kuhn begins his diatribe and with each mocking and hate-filled statement, Isadore becomes more and more angry. Kuhn’s audience, though, responds with laughter, cheers, and Nazi salutes. It's too much to bear.
So, Isadore pushes his way through the crowd and charges onto the stage, right at Fritz Kuhn himself. Kuhn looks startled, angry, and afraid. But Isadore doesn’t attack him.
Instead, he grabs the microphone cable and yanks it hard, silencing the fascist tirade. And as the crowd boos him, Isadore manages to scream, “Down with Hitler!” before the stormtroopers of the Bund tackle him to the ground.
Isadore Greenbaum is not the only New Yorker to stand up to the Nazis that night. Protestors outside Madison Square Garden outnumber those within the arena by five to one. They condemn the hate masquerading as patriotism. But fascism is spreading across the world, and far more people will have to show the bravery Isadore did to ensure that America will never see another shameful night like the pro-Nazi rally of February 20th, 1939.
From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.
History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.
Today is February 20th, 1939: Nazis in New York.
It’s August 26th, 1934, at the main train station in Munich, Germany, five years before American Nazis hold a rally in New York City.
41-year-old journalist Dorothy Thompson holds her head high as two German police officers march her across the echoing concourse toward a train bound for Paris. Other passengers in the busy station stop and stare, whispering to one another. But Dorothy doesn’t pay them any attention
Instead, she looks ahead at the more welcoming goodbye party of fellow journalists that waits on the platform, each holding a red American Beauty rose. They hand them to Dorothy one by one. She takes the flowers with a sad smile and a heavy heart. Because Dorothy is about to become the first American journalist to be expelled from Nazi Germany.
Born in New York City, Dorothy left America in 1920 to pursue a career as a reporter in Europe. Although she was only in her twenties, she soon became one of the most respected foreign correspondents in the American press. After stints in England, Ireland, and Austria, in 1927, she moved to Berlin. By that time, Germany had emerged from its traumatic defeat at the end of World War One to enjoy a golden age of economic growth and a cultural renaissance. But it wouldn't last. The Great Depression hit Germany hard, and by the early 1930s, the once thriving country that Dorothy had first experienced was fast disintegrating. In the chaos, dark forces emerged. Dorothy met and interviewed many of the leading politicians of the time, including one ambitious man from the National Socialist German Workers' Party, Adolf Hitler.
But Dorothy’s article was not the glowing profile Hitler had hoped for. She described him as "a little man" in stature, morality, and intellect. That didn’t stop Hitler seizing power in Germany though. And after he became Chancellor in 1933, Hitler took his revenge on Dorothy. Amid a wider crackdown on journalism and free speech, Hitler threw Dorothy out of the country she had grown to love.
So now, as the German officers stand guard on the train platform, Dorothy says goodbye to tearful friends and co-workers. She pledges that Hitler and his henchmen won’t stop her—she will continue speaking out against fascism. But that's when the train’s whistle blows, and Dorothy’s guards shove her toward the waiting carriage.
Dorothy's expulsion from Germany is front-page news at home, and when she reaches New York, she is inundated with job offers. She eventually decides to join the New York Herald-Tribune as a columnist. Dorothy’s articles for that newspaper are soon syndicated, reaching millions of Americans all over the country. She takes to the airwaves too as an NBC news commentator, becoming one of the few women trusted with such an important role in the 1930s. And in her articles and radio broadcasts, Dorothy addresses many subjects, but the one she returns to the most is the cause dearest to her—the growing threat of fascism in Europe.
In September 1935, Dorothy reports in horror on the Nuremberg Laws passed by the Nazi Party in Germany. This legislation deprives Jews of German citizenship, and makes marriage between Jews and non-Jews illegal. In her reporting, Dorothy warns her readers that they are not immune to this type of racial hatred and scapegoating. In response, some call her alarmist and tell her to quiet down. That nothing of this sort could happen here in America.
But Dorothy is not deterred. While the subjugation of Jews in Germany grows only worse, European leaders try to appease Adolf Hitler’s demands, and American politicians stay mostly silent, Dorothy’s voice only gets louder. She takes to the radio night after night, pointing out how America too could fall for the same twisted beliefs that have destroyed the Germany she once knew. She uses her broadcasts and her columns to expose homegrown extremists like the Ku Klux Klan, the Order of the Black Shirts in Georgia, and the ‘German American Bund’ in her own home city of New York. Dorothy argues that these groups are taking their cues directly or indirectly from the Nazis. They all espouse similar hate and violent disregard for democracy and the rights of others, and Dorothy warns that without proper opposition and scrutiny, the far-right will one day rise in America, too. But many will fail to heed her warnings until the shocking sight of swastikas and stormtroopers in Manhattan will finally reveal the truth.
It’s July 4th, 1937, at a summer camp on Long Island in New York, three years after Dorothy Thompson was expelled from Nazi Germany.
Fritz Kuhn stands by a barbecue, handing out hot dogs and cold drinks. It’s a Fourth of July Celebration—but with a difference. The kids waiting in line may look like Boy Scouts in their khaki uniforms and neck scarves, but the armbands they wear are emblazoned with a lightning bolt. Many of the grown-ups with them wear black-shirted uniforms. And swastikas hang beside the American flags that flutter above the picnic tables. This is Camp Siegfried, where the German American Bund teaches the fascists of the future.
After the food and drink has been handed out, Kuhn climbs some narrow steps to a small makeshift stage. And those in attendance fall silent. For many, it’s their first opportunity to hear Kuhn speak, and they listen eagerly.
Fritz Kuhn was an early member of the Nazi Party in Germany, but in the late 1920s, he moved to America. He found work at the Ford Motor Company in Detroit and, six years later, became a US citizen. But he never abandoned his loyalty to his homeland—or to his old political ideals.
And after being fired from his job for lecturing other Ford employees on politics, Fritz moved to New York, where he was elected leader of a new organization. The German American Bund was put together under the pretense of connecting the German community in America. Its real purpose, though, was to promote Nazism.
In 1936, the American economy was beginning to recover from the Great Depression. But millions of people were still struggling to make ends meet, and the German American Bund saw opportunity in these tough times. At public rallies and meetings, they blamed Communists, Catholics, Black people, and especially, Jews for all of America’s problems. Most ordinary people weren’t convinced by this openly fascist rhetoric. But there’s always been a vocal minority in the United States who are more receptive to hateful messages. And, in the late 1930s, the Bund began to target them for recruitment.
And despite his thick German accent, Fritz Kuhn is an adept public speaker. He knows how to work a crowd, combining noisy patriotism with racist insults to stir his listeners to both anger and applause.
And now, in front of this audience on Long Island, Kuhn speaks of a secret war being waged on America by the Jews. He reads from The Protocols of the Elders Of Zion, a forged text said to reveal secrets about Jewish plans for world domination. Then, he finishes by telling his crowd that only the Bund will “save America for white Americans”.
The crowd cheers and give enthusiastic Nazi salutes as Kuhn steps down from the stage. There are only a few thousand people here today. But Kuhn has plans to take this message to a much larger audience. He soon applies to hold what he calls a ‘Pro-America’ rally at Madison Square Garden, an iconic venue in the heart of New York City.
But by now, however, the situation across the Atlantic in Europe is becoming far more serious. Nazi Germany has annexed the neighboring country of Austria, and Adolf Hitler is making further territorial demands. Life for Germany’s Jewish population is becoming ever more dangerous, and, in November 1938, a violent pogrom known as Kristallnacht sees thousands of Jewish-owned stores, buildings, and synagogues destroyed.
Most Americans are horrified by the stories and images coming out of Europe. They have no desire to see some small-time imitator of Adolf Hitler spread hate in their country. But Fritz Kuhn’s application to hold a rally at Madison Square Garden is not denied.
Despite protests from anti-fascist activists like the journalist Dorothy Thompson, New York City mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia decides that even Nazis have the right to free speech. Mayor LaGuardia doesn’t give Fritz Kuhn the green light because he sympathizes with the German American Bund. Instead, he reasons that exposing them for what they really are will only discredit the group further. Still, LaGuardia is aware of the controversy surrounding his decision, and the potential risks posed by the rally. With thousands due to attend the event, and many more expected to protest it, violence seems inevitable. So, to avoid that fate, LaGuardia dispatches over 1,500 uniformed police officers to patrol the rally and keep the anti-fascists away from the anti-Semites. A further 600 undercover detectives are sent to mingle with the crowds on both sides and try to keep the peace.
Despite all the preparations, however, the rally will still descend into chaos, after one brave man will dare to stand up amid the crowd of angry Nazis and say that enough is enough.
It’s the evening of February 20th, 1939, at Madison Square Garden in New York, just moments after a young Jewish-American protestor stormed the stage.
Alone in front of a hateful crowd, Isadore Greenbaum struggles on the ground, trying to protect himself from a flurry of kicks and punches. The members of the German American Bund haven’t taken kindly to Isadore interrupting their event, but the thugs attacking him are soon dispersed by a group of uniformed New York police officers. They wade in, brandishing clubs, before dragging Isadore away to safety.
On stage, the German American Bund leader Fritz Kuhn picks up his microphone and resumes his speech. But Isadore is not the only anti-fascist at the rally. Standing in the press pit watching the event is the crusading journalist Dorothy Thompson. She’s abandoned any hint of impartiality tonight, laughing and shouting ‘Bunk’ at the constant lies spat out from the stage. Eventually, though, she tires of listening to the torrent of hate and joins the crowds outside still surrounding the Garden.
The people of New York have come out in their tens of thousands to protest the rally and show the world that the likes of Fritz Kuhn do not speak for them.
So, while Kuhn had hoped that his provocative rally would spread the fascist message to new audiences and boost membership in his organization, instead, America is repulsed by what it sees. Following the rally, membership in the German American Bund flatlines. And when Nazi Germany ignites World War Two by invading Poland later that same year, the organization begins to fall apart. A Federal investigation into its activities is launched and discovers that Fritz Kuhn has been embezzling thousands of dollars. He spends most of the rest of the war in Sing Sing prison, and in 1945, he’s deported back to Germany—a country which by then has been left in ash and ruin.
The man who confronted Kuhn at the rally, though, also faced punishment. Following his dramatic protest, Isadore Greenbaum was arrested for disorderly conduct. Rather than serve time in prison, Isadore paid a $25 fine—the equivalent of over five hundred today. But he was unrepentant, and it would not be the last time Isadore would fight Nazis. When America eventually joined World War Two in 1941, Isadore signed up and joined the Navy. He was just one of countless millions who bravely stood up to fascism in the 20th century, whether it was on the battlefield, in the newspapers, or in the heart of Manhattan, as it was when America’s Nazis rallied at Madison Square Garden on February 20th, 1939.
Next on History Daily. February 21st, 1848. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels publish one of the most influential books ever written: The Communist Manifesto.
From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.
Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.
Sound design by Gabriel Gould.
Supervising Sound Designer is Matthew Filler.
Music by Thrumm.
This episode is written and researched by Owen Paul Nicholls.
Edited by Dorian Merina.
Managing producer Emily Burke.
Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.