A Warning from the Past

A Warning from the Past
You’ve been warned.

Ernst Röhm’s journey from decorated World War I veteran to the leader of the Nazi paramilitary SA embodies the dark trajectory of alienation, violence, and ideological extremism. Röhm was no mere sideline actor; as Hitler’s close ally and chief of staff for the SA, he helped transform a postwar band of malcontents into the Stormtroopers who brutalized Nazi opponents across Germany. Remarkably, Röhm’s homosexuality was known within the Nazi elite and even intermittently reported in the press, a contradiction for a movement whose propaganda would later justify his murder on precisely those grounds. Röhm himself never hid from his identity, describing himself as "same-sex oriented," and for a time Hitler valued his loyalty and military competence more than public morality.

As the SA swelled to over a million members, Röhm’s ambitions for a “second revolution” threatened both the German army and Hitler’s grip on power. Röhm envisioned the SA as the heart of a new “People’s Army”—a force of outsiders that could upend the established order. But, as radical rhetoric and internal dissent mounted, Hitler acted ruthlessly, orchestrating the Night of the Long Knives and having Röhm shot in his prison cell. The Nazi regime weaponized his sexuality, casting Röhm’s murder as not just a political purge, but a necessary cleansing of deviance from the ranks of the revolution.

The echoes of Röhm’s era are disturbingly alive in today’s online reactionary subcultures. The incel movement, born of sexual and social grievance, festers in digital echo chambers—its community defined by a sense of rejection, humiliation, and the promise of redemption through violence or upheaval. “Groypers,” led by figures like Nick Fuentes, blend white nationalism, digital harassment, and obsession with traditional masculinity, targeting both political enemies and the supposed betrayals of mainstream conservatism. Both movements are driven by young men who feel dispossessed and are drawn to narratives of victimhood, exclusivity, and radical “solutions.” These are not paramilitary movements operating in the streets, but, as with Röhm’s SA, their rhetoric and isolated communities can midwife real acts of violence and deepen social divides.

For military veterans and the political left, Röhm’s story is not just a chapter in the past. It is a warning about how alienation and the longing for belonging can be marshaled into movements that idolize power, breed violence, and turn scapegoating into ideology. The trajectory from camaraderie to authoritarianism may look different on internet forums than it did in Munich’s beer halls, but the danger endures: When grievance is welded to exclusion and violence, the results can upend societies—sometimes with catastrophic consequences.