When you hear the phrase “10 reasons Hitler,” you might picture a dark chapter of history, but the 1936 Berlin Games give us a wild mix of sport, propaganda, and sheer spectacle. Below we count down the ten most jaw‑dropping ways the Nazi regime turned the Olympics into a carnival of controversy, innovation, and outright chaos.
10 The Counter‑Olympics
As Berlin geared up for the 1936 Olympics, a chorus of doubts rose over Nazi ideology. Sports insiders, alarmed by the persecution of Jewish athletes, argued that competing would amount to endorsing Hitler’s regime. In the United States—traditionally the biggest Olympic delegation—calls for a boycott echoed loudly.
Meanwhile, Spain’s fledgling republic took the protest a step further. Disappointed at losing the 1931 host‑city vote to Berlin, Barcelona prepared a “People’s Olympics.” The city boasted modern facilities from the 1929 International Exposition and a ready‑made Hotel Olimpico for athletes. Determined to snub Hitler, Spanish organizers sent invitations to left‑wing athletes worldwide, drawing 6,000 participants from 22 nations, including dissenting Germans.
The emblem—a trio of muscular figures—symbolized unity across races: a white athlete, a black athlete, and one of mixed heritage. Yet, just a day before the Berlin opening ceremony, General Francisco Franco launched his revolt, igniting the Spanish Civil War. Hitler threw his support behind Franco, and the Counter‑Olympics were abruptly canceled. Spain and the USSR ended up as the only nations to officially boycott Berlin, while Barcelona eventually hosted its own legitimate Olympic party in 1992.
9 The Nazi Origins Of The Torch Relay
The modern torch relay, now a beloved symbol of international unity, was actually a Nazi invention. While ancient Greeks used flame‑bearing relays in worship, no modern Games before Berlin featured such a procession. The concept was proposed by Carl Diem, secretary‑general of the organizing committee, inspired by the 1928 Amsterdam flame. Propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels seized the idea, turning it into a spectacular showcase for the regime.
During the lighting ceremony in Greece, the flame was dedicated to Hitler while the Nazi anthem “Die Fahne Hoch” blared. The relay’s 2,500‑kilometre trek snaked through Czechoslovakia, sparking ethnic clashes. By the time the torch entered Berlin, only blond, blue‑eyed athletes were permitted to bear it, reinforcing Aryan ideals.
Goebbels’ plan succeeded: the flaming procession impressed spectators, prompting headlines about German “goodwill” and “flawless hospitality.” Yet the torch’s origins were a stark reminder of Nazi propaganda. After World War II, the relay survived, re‑purposed as a beacon of peace, continuing to this day.
8 Pigeons Poop On Der Fuhrer’s Show
The opening ceremony dazzled with swastika‑adorned avenues, Hitler’s motorcade, and the majestic Hindenburg airship. As the Fuhrer descended the stadium steps, a flock of pigeons was released—only to be startled by a cannon blast, sending a torrent of droppings onto the crowd’s straw hats. Runner Louis Zamperini recalled the chaotic moment with a grin, noting how the “poop‑out of the pigeons” turned the solemn spectacle into slapstick comedy.
Other mishaps added to the farce. The New Zealand team mistook a German official for Hitler, removing their hats in respect, then quickly rehatted as they passed the real Fuhrer. The French team’s Olympic salute was misread as the Nazi salute, earning cheers from the audience. Only the United States refused to dip its flag, citing army regulations.
Meanwhile, Liechtenstein discovered its flag’s red‑and‑blue design matched Haiti’s, prompting a potential mix‑up at medal ceremonies. Haiti’s sole athlete withdrew, and Liechtenstein later added a crown to its flag to avoid future confusion.
7 The First Televised Games
The 1936 Berlin Olympics earned the distinction of being the world’s first televised sporting event. German firms Telefunken and Fernseh deployed twenty‑one cameras—including three massive “television cannons”—to broadcast live images for 72 hours to public viewing rooms in Berlin and Potsdam. Around 150,000 spectators crowded these booths.
Although the black‑and‑white pictures were fuzzy, the broadcast marked a leap from radio‑only coverage that had dominated since 1921. Ironically, the technology relied on inventions by Vladimir Zworykin (a Russian Jew) and Philo Farnsworth (a Mormon), both of whom would have been despised by the Nazis.
German officials hailed the achievement as a cultural breakthrough, while the first televised glimpse of Jesse Owens’ 100‑meter triumph served as poetic justice—African‑American excellence broadcast by Nazi‑built tech.
6 Jesse Owens And His Nazi Shoes
Jesse Owens’ four gold medals made him an instant legend, but few know that a young Nazi party member, Adolf “Adi” Dassler, helped lace his feet. Dassler, founder of Gebruder Dassler Schuhfabrik, wanted his shoes on as many athletes as possible. He convinced German track coach Jo Waitzer to distribute the cutting‑edge footwear, even to Owens.
Despite the risk, Waitzer smuggled a few pairs to Owens, who praised their glove‑leather construction and six‑spike design. Owens claimed he would run only in those shoes, inadvertently becoming the first global ambassador for what would later become Adidas.
Word spread quickly, and German athletes proudly wore the German‑made shoes, boosting Dassler’s brand and cementing his legacy in sportswear history.
5 The Dirtiest Basketball Final
Berlin introduced Olympic basketball for the first time, with Dr. James Naismith tossing the opening tip‑off between Estonia and France. The United States, the sport’s birthplace, dominated early matchups and faced Canada in the final.
Because Germany lacked a basketball tradition, organizers forced the game onto an outdoor clay tennis court, installing wooden backboards and using an oversized, slit‑ball. A torrential downpour the day before turned the court into a mud pit. Refusing to postpone, officials pressed on, and the final became a sloppy slog of passing rather than dribbling.
By halftime, the score read 14‑4; the U.S. eventually triumphed 19‑8, sealing the dirtiest, mud‑covered basketball finale in Olympic history.
4 Hitler’s Football Embarrassment
Although football wasn’t Hitler’s personal sport, the regime backed a strong national team as a propaganda tool. Managed by Otto Nerz, the German squad was co‑favorite with Great Britain. After a crushing 9‑0 win over Luxembourg, Hitler—having never attended a football match—was invited to watch the next game against Norway.
At the Poststadion, the German side started strong, but Norway soon equalized and then took the lead. Frustrated, Hitler stormed out in a fury, leaving the stadium after the 2‑0 defeat—the only football match he ever witnessed.
3 Leni Riefenstahl’s Olympia
The 1936 Games were immortalized by Leni Riefenstahl’s documentary “Olympia,” a technical marvel that reshaped cinema. Unlike her earlier propaganda piece “Triumph of the Will,” Riefenstahl focused on athletes of all nations, capturing the human form with unprecedented artistry.
She pioneered moving‑camera techniques, roller‑skating crews, custom tracks, and a 600‑mm telephoto lens. A balloon‑borne 5‑mm camera provided aerial shots, while underwater equipment captured diving sequences. Her editing wove together close‑ups, crowd reactions, and synchronized music, creating a rhythmic visual symphony.
Debate persists over whether “Olympia” served Nazi propaganda or pure sport celebration. Goebbels was involved, yet the film featured African‑American stars like Jesse Owens, and even recorded German defeats. It won the 1938 Venice Film Festival, beating Disney’s “Snow White,” and its cinematography still dazzles today.
2 Art As Sport
Founder Pierre de Coubertin envisioned the Olympics as a blend of athletics and the arts. From 1912 to 1948, medals were awarded in architecture, painting, sculpture, literature, and music—each work required a sports theme.
In Berlin, the German art committee pushed for a “Works for the Screen” category, but de Coubertin rejected it, fearing pure propaganda. Nonetheless, German jurors dominated, capturing five of nine medals, and sweeping musical composition categories. Only American Charles Downing Lay won with his “Marine Park in Brooklyn.”
Initially lukewarm, the competition eventually attracted 70,000 visitors, generating significant revenue through informal sales. The Berlin Philharmonic performed the winning compositions, but the amateurism clause eventually led to the art contests’ demise after 1948.
1 Elizabeth Robinson’s Unbelievable Comeback
Elizabeth “Betty” Robinson’s 1936 gold medal came five years after she was presumed dead. A Chicago‑area teen, she burst onto the scene after a high‑school teacher timed her sprinting down a hallway and urged her to join the Illinois Women’s Athletic Club. By 1928, at just 16, she became the first woman—and youngest ever—to win the 100‑meter gold in Amsterdam, setting a 12.2‑second world record.
In 1931, a biplane crash left her gravely injured; rescuers thought she was dead and placed her in a mortician’s trunk. An observant undertaker discovered she was alive, prompting emergency surgery that inserted a rod and pins into her shattered left leg. Doctors doubted she’d ever walk again; she spent weeks in a wheelchair and missed the 1932 Los Angeles Games.
Defying odds, Robinson relearned to walk, then run, joining the 1936 U.S. 4×100 meter relay. Because her shortened leg prevented a crouch start, she was allowed to begin standing. She ran the third leg, receiving the baton after Germany fumbled theirs, and helped the U.S. clinch gold. The IOC hailed her as one of the most remarkable comebacks in Olympic history. She retired after the Games, married Richard Schwartz in 1939, coached, and passed away in 1999.
+ The Muslim Women Who Snubbed Hitler
Halet Cambel embodied the new, secular Turkish woman of the 1930s. Born in Berlin to a family close to Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, she overcame childhood illnesses, took up fencing under a Russian coach, and earned a spot on Turkey’s inaugural female Olympic fencing team alongside Suat Fetgeri Aseni Tari.
Repulsed by Nazi ideology, Cambel protested the Games but was compelled by her government to attend. She recalled refusing a personal invitation to meet Hitler, stating she would never have come to Berlin had her nation not ordered her. Though neither Cambel nor Tari medaled, their defiant stance remains a testament to courage against oppression.
After the Olympics, Cambel pursued a career in archaeology, leaving a legacy of resilience and scholarly contribution.