
By Joe Byerly
Throughout ancient history, cities didn’t always fall on the fields of battle or by infantry scaling the walls. More often than we realize, they were undone from within—by opportunists who, under the cover of darkness, opened secret doors, lowered bridges, or raised gates to let a power-hungry enemy in. They did so in hopes of reversing their own political fortunes.
Often, it didn’t work in their favor. These opportunists rarely survived their own betrayal. The wolves they welcomed didn’t stop at seizing power—they devoured the very men who fed them.
In 1932, the German people were angry, they wanted change. World War I and the Treaty of Versailles had greatly humbled a traditionally martial nation, and many believed they had been stabbed in the back by Jews, Communists, and bureaucrats. The Great Depression had turned the economy upside down. HyperInflation was through the roof. Life wasn’t easy.
Then came a man who offered hope: Adolf Hitler. He was charismatic, unconventional, and promised to restore the greatness of the German people.
Those tired and overworked Germans were so focused on hope for the future, they ignored red flags in the present. They didn’t pay too much attention to the words in his 1924 manifesto Mein Kampf about expanding Germany’s borders. “The future goal of our foreign policy ought not to involve an orientation to the East or the West,” wrote a 35-year old Adolf Hitler in prison, “ but it ought to be an Eastern policy which will have in view the acquisition of such territory as necessary for our German people.”
His hatred towards the minority didn’t bother most either. As historian Andrew Roberts highlighted in Leadership in War, “He defined his enemies carefully. Less than 1 percent of Germans were Jewish or Communist organizers or Social Democrat politicians. So the overwhelming majority of Germans were never at risk of arrest under the Nazis…”
Even fellow statesmen and educated observers—people who should have known better—weren’t too worried. As the late Sir Colin Gray noted:
Most observers were convinced, not unreasonably, that he would be tamed by the responsibilities of office and by the many sober and experienced advisors to whom he would be politically beholden. After all, Germany possessed both a prudent political class and a body of cautious soldiers.
Even as Hitler began consolidating power, many assumed the system would contain him. But the system bent—and then broke.
By 1934, U.S. Ambassador to Germany William Dodd began to see the truth. He wrote in his diary:
At any other time in modern German history I would say a revolution is immediately ahead, but evidence has no significance if all communications are in the hands of a single man and he is a monomaniac. He thinks himself called by some God to redeem Germany, and hence no German scholar or statesman dares say one word in criticism of anything.
Tragically, Dodd was in the minority. And even among those who finally saw what was unfolding, few were willing, or able, to do anything to stop it.
We know how the story ends. Once Hitler held power, over 80 million people paid the price—in the Holocaust and the Second World War, including many of the very Germans who once let him in.
The ancient biographer Plutarch saw firsthand what became of Rome when men of poor character rose to great power. He came to believe that when depravity is armed with authority, it gains physical strength. With power, the corrupt no longer have to hide their vices, they can act them out. With power, emotions like anger and envy morph into vengeance, now backed by the machinery of state: oppressive decrees, unjust laws, and deadly orders.
When it comes to power, red flags should always trump hope. Power in the hands of those lacking character is rarely tempered “by the responsibilities of the office”.
Aesop also warned of this over a millennia ago, in The Shepherd and the Wolf Cubs, a shepherd raises young wolves to protect his flock and steal from his neighbors. But when the wolves grow up, they turn on him. In frustration, the Shepherd groaned, “It serves me right! Why did I save their lives when they were little since I’ve got to kill them now when they’re big?” As translator Robin Waterfield highlights in the lesson, “Likewise, those who keep bad people safe are failing to realize that all they’re doing is empowering them to do them harm.
History doesn’t always repeat itself—but, as Timothy Snyder reminds us in On Tyranny, “it warns.” When we place power in the hands of those without virtue, who lack a strong character, people who tear others down, we run the risk of being destroyed ourselves.
That’s why we can’t afford to be swayed by hopeful promises alone. It’s not enough to listen to what someone says about what they will promise for the future—we have to study their past and observe their actions in the present. Because by the time their true character is revealed, it’s often too late to close the gate we helped them walk through.
This is part of Joe’s weekly newsletter on power at The Sunday Email
Joe Byerly is a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel with 20 years of service, including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and command of a cavalry squadron in Europe. He earned numerous prestigious awards, including multiple Legion of Merits, Bronze Stars, the Purple Heart, and General Douglas MacArthur Leadership Award. In 2013, Joe founded From the Green Notebook.
A passionate advocate for self-knowledge through reading and reflection, he authored The Leader’s 90-Day Notebook and co-authored My Green Notebook: “Know Thyself” Before Changing Jobs, a resource for leaders seeking greater self-awareness. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.



