Dorothy Thompson, the Fearless Journalist Who Alerted the Globe to Adolf Hitler's Menace

Dorothy Thompson, a relentless journalist, faced numerous adversaries, but none as formidable as Adolf Hitler. For over a decade, she vocally opposed the Nazis through her writings and radio broadcasts, cautioning Americans about the dangers of fascism long before the U.S. joined World War II. Her relentless activism earned her immense fame in the United States and the distinction of being the first American journalist expelled from Germany by Hitler.

Championing Women's Voting Rights

Born on July 9, 1893, in Lancaster, New York, to British immigrants, Dorothy Thompson was raised in a devout household. Her father, a Methodist minister, often took her on visits to parishioners in upstate New York. Tragedy struck when Thompson was just 7, as her mother succumbed to sepsis, rumored to be caused by a failed abortion. Her father remarried to provide a mother figure for his three children, but Thompson clashed with her stepmother, whom she described as having 'an aversion to children.' Eventually, she moved in with her aunts in Chicago, where she attended the Lewis Institute, a junior college.

Thompson excelled academically, demonstrating a deep love for literature and debate. She pursued higher education at Syracuse University, graduating with a bachelor's degree in 1914.

After graduating, Thompson immersed herself in feminist activism. Her initial role involved envelope-stuffing for the Woman Suffrage Party in Buffalo, but she quickly persuaded her superiors to assign her fieldwork. As Jack Alexander noted in the Saturday Evening Post, "Advocating for suffrage often meant sparking debates in public spaces, a task perfectly suited to Dorothy." She spent several years championing women's voting rights and other progressive causes, working in New York City, Cincinnati, and upstate regions. However, activism didn't provide a steady income, so she also took on advertising and publicity gigs to help fund her siblings' college education.

Dorothy also harbored ambitions of becoming a journalist. She had already established connections with several editors by writing opinion pieces on social justice for prominent New York newspapers. Accompanied by her suffragist friend Barbara De Porte, who was eager to explore Europe for stories and adventure, the duo saved enough money to sail to London in 1920. There, they launched their careers as foreign correspondents.

Hitler: "A Man Whose Face Resembles a Cartoon"

Thompson and De Porte quickly sought freelance opportunities at the International News Service, an American agency with offices across Europe. The assignments were a perfect fit for Thompson, a tireless worker with a knack for being in the right place at the right time. Early in her career, she secured the final interview with Terence MacSwiney, a Sinn Fein leader who died during a hunger strike in prison, while visiting family in Ireland. She later gained exclusive access to Karl I, the exiled former king of Hungary, by disguising herself as a Red Cross nurse to infiltrate a castle. These remarkable achievements led to her appointment as a foreign correspondent for the Philadelphia Public Ledger in Vienna.

Her role in this position allowed her to gain profound insights into central European politics, further enhanced by her fluency in German and her 1923 marriage to Hungarian author Josef Bard. This expertise propelled her to become the bureau chief for both the Public Ledger and the New York Evening Post, which jointly managed foreign coverage. As her biographer Peter Kurth noted, she was "the first woman to lead a significant foreign news bureau."

However, a phase of transformation was on the horizon. Fed up with her husband's infidelities, Thompson sought a divorce in 1927. That same year, she encountered Sinclair Lewis, the acclaimed novelist behind Elmer Gantry and Main Street, who was immediately captivated by her. In 1928, Thompson accepted one of Lewis's numerous proposals, resigned from her position, and moved to Vermont to start a new life with him.

Despite her rural surroundings, Thompson's passion for global affairs remained undiminished. She continued her freelance reporting on international politics, frequently returning to Germany in the early 1930s to document the decline of the Weimar Republic. She had been tracking Hitler's ascent since at least 1923, when she sought to interview him after the Beer Hall Putsch, a failed coup that landed Hitler in jail. Her interview request was finally granted in 1931 under strict terms: she could only pose three pre-submitted questions.

Thompson left the interview unimpressed. "Entering Adolf Hitler's salon at the Kaiserhof Hotel, I initially believed I was meeting Germany's future dictator," she wrote. "Within moments, I realized I was not. ... He appeared shapeless, almost faceless, with a caricature-like expression and a seemingly boneless frame. He was insignificant, talkative, awkward, and insecure—the epitome of the ordinary man."

Although Thompson underestimated Hitler's growing influence (he would become chancellor within two years), her scathing critique left a lasting impression on the Führer. Initially, he took no action, even as her interview gained widespread attention through Cosmopolitan and her 1932 book I Saw Hitler!. However, by late summer 1934, the Nazi regime expelled her from Germany, stating that they could no longer "offer her further hospitality." This marked one of the earliest warnings to foreign journalists: criticizing Hitler would no longer be permitted.

"My mistake was believing Hitler to be nothing more than an average man," Thompson wrote soon after in The New York Times. "This is a sin against the prevailing belief in Germany, which holds that Hitler is a divine savior sent to rescue the German people—a concept rooted in ancient Jewish tradition. Challenging this sacred mission is so grave that Germans can face imprisonment for it. Fortunately, as an American, I was merely deported to Paris."

A Determined Woman on a Quest

Upon returning to the United States, Thompson launched a relentless solo campaign against the Nazis. She vehemently criticized the German regime in her widely syndicated column, "On the Record," which appeared in 170 newspapers and reached approximately 8 million readers. She also shared her anti-Nazi message through regular NBC radio broadcasts and a monthly feature in Ladies' Home Journal. One of her most daring acts of defiance occurred in 1939 when she attended a German American Bund rally at Madison Square Garden. Amid 20,000 Nazi sympathizers, she openly mocked the speaker, even as uniformed guards tried to remove her from the venue.

Thompson's bold actions earned her immense fame and admiration. In 1937, she was invited to her alma mater, Syracuse University, as its first female commencement speaker. She received honorary degrees from prestigious institutions like Columbia, Tufts, and Dartmouth, and became a sought-after guest at charity events and women's club meetings. When audiences flocked to see the 1942 Spencer Tracy-Katharine Hepburn film Woman of the Year, they immediately saw Thompson reflected in Hepburn's portrayal of a successful, globally recognized journalist.

Despite her wartime popularity, Thompson faced growing criticism. In February 1941, pacifist mothers burned her effigy outside the White House, accusing her of contributing to "the bloodshed and suffering of a million young men." Others criticized her for being overly emotional, a critique that intensified after the war as she turned her focus to anti-Zionism, alienating many supporters. (This included her editors at The New York Post, who discontinued her column in 1947.) By 1961, her influence had waned significantly, and she passed away from a heart attack in Lisbon at the age of 67.

The Darkest Party Game

In later years, Thompson's legacy was often eclipsed by stories of her more famous second husband, Sinclair Lewis. Their marriage, which lasted from 1928 to 1942, coincided with her most prolific and successful period. It also inspired one of Lewis's most enduring (and recently revived) novels, It Can't Happen Here, a dystopian tale about a fascist leader seizing control of the United States.

Unlike Lewis's works, Thompson's books are now rare and hard to find. Despite her once-celebrated status, her name has largely been forgotten, often reduced to a footnote in the broader narrative of anti-Nazi efforts. However, one of her articles has endured, gaining renewed relevance in recent years.

In her 1941 Harper's article "Who Goes Nazi?," Thompson introduced a chilling social experiment: identifying who in a room would support Hitler's fascist ideology if given the chance. Drawing from years of observation, she argued with striking precision that the tendency had no connection to class, race, or occupation. Instead, Thompson claimed, it stemmed from something deeper within. "Kind, content, and secure individuals never embrace Nazism," she wrote. However, those plagued by fear, bitterness, insecurity, or self-hatred were always susceptible to fascism. "It's a thought-provoking exercise," she concluded. "Try it at your next gathering."