The exhibition, free and open to the public, will run Sept. 12 – Mar. 22. It is open Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Thursday from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m., and Saturday and Sunday from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. For information on group tours, school tours (available 9 a.m. – noon weekdays), teacher education, and docent opportunities, call Amie Scoville at the Marriott Library at 801-585-1682 or visit the website.

Two years may be covered in a sentence or two in a history book. But two years can change the course of history irrevocably.

In 1931, when Germany was selected by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to host the 1936 Olympics, the Nazi regime had not yet taken control of the country. The Weimar Republic was still in power. Germany, though struggling economically, was a democratic country.

Only two years later, in 1933, Hitler succeeded in becoming chancellor, initiating an acceleration of change that redefined every aspect of life in Germany and ultimately threatened the same for the world.

Known as “The Nazi Olympics,” the Games held in Berlin in 1936 served to underscore the power that Hitler had so quickly achieved. The event also brought to the forefront the denial, ambivalence, and conflicts that existed among members of the international community regarding Germany and its intentions. These tensions were played

Coming to the Marriott Library in September, “THE NAZI OLYMPICS Berlin 1936,” a traveling exhibition from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C., examines these issues and looks in depth at one of history’s greatest ironies: that the highest celebration of our physical accomplishments should be set during the lowest period of our humanitarian spirit.

The Historical Context
If Hitler had been an athlete, he surely would have been a sprinter. His rise to power was swift to the point of being meteoric. Less than one month after Hitler became chancellor, the German parliament building burned down under mysterious circumstances. Hitler used, or perhaps created, this opportunity to press for the “Reichstag Fire Decree,” which suspended the civil rights (speech, assembly, and press) of the German people.

Only one month later, in March 1933, the German Parliament passed the “Enabling Act,” empowering Hitler to establish a dictatorship. That same month brought a chilling milestone: the first concentration camp (Dachau) was established for “political opponents of the regime.” In only three months, Adolf Hitler had positioned himself as an absolute and uncontestable dictator. His domination permeated every aspect of German life.

With that power, Hitler was able to act upon his longstanding contention that Jews were inferior to the superior “Aryan race” and must be destroyed to preserve its “purity.” Other groups, such as Roma (Gypsies) and homosexuals, were also persecuted for racial or political reasons. Less than four months after assuming the leadership of Germany, Hitler sanctioned a boycott of Jewish businesses throughout the country, the first of many brazen acts, each one more horrific than the last. In 1935, the Nazi government enacted the Nuremburg "racial laws,” formally lowering the status of Jews to second-class citizens. That year, in violation of the Versailles Treaty, military conscription was reintroduced. It was a major step towards Germany’s remilitarization.

The Pressure to Boycott
As the time for the Olympic Games approached, international opposition mounted and pressures grew either to change the venue or boycott the Games.

When the IOC met in Austria in 1933, Germany agreed to allow German Jews to participate in the Games and pledged fair treatment of all athletes. With this assurance, the decision was made not to change the venue. But in America, strong feelings opposing participation remained.

The strongest opposition came from Judge Jeremiah Mahoney, then president of the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), who believed adamantly that a boycott was justified. He argued that Germany had broken IOC rules forbidding discrimination based on race and religion, and he was concerned that by participating, the U.S. would be endorsing Hitler’s regime. “Nazi Germany is endeavoring to use the Eleventh Olympiad to serve the necessities and interests of the Nazi regime rather than the Olympic ideals,” Mahoney declared.

Pitted against him was Avery Brundage, president of the American Olympic Committee (AOC). Brundage felt that politics should not be a consideration and that American athletes should not be involved in what he called a “Jew-Nazi altercation.”

Bowing to pressure, Brundage agreed to visit Germany, and was dazzled by the German pomp. He naively believed what he had been told—that the Nazis would abide by the principles of the Olympic Games by allowing the 23 German Jewish athletes to participate in the Games. Brundage returned to the U.S. all the more determined not to permit a boycott and maneuvered the AAU into agreeing with him. But even after this binding decision was made, the bitter debate continued.

The German Militarization and Discrimination in Sports
Mahoney’s concern was based in part on the recognition that, to Hitler, the Olympic Games were a celebration of Aryan superiority. Early on, Hitler began in earnest to take sport out of the realm of recreation and to militarize it, using it as a means to implement disciplined training and justify religious and racial discrimination.

Just as Jews had been slowly but systematically expelled from the political, social, cultural, and economic life of Germany, they also found themselves gradually being prohibited from access to sports. From amateurs to professionals, all were denied the possibility for any athletic expression. They were prohibited from competing and expelled from public sports facilities and clubs, and physical education associations and organizations.

Even those who had gained world prominence in their chosen sport were expelled. Daniel Prenn, Germany’s top-ranked tennis player and a Jew, was cut from its Davis Cup team. Margaret Lambert née Gretel Bergmann, a world-class high jumper, was ousted from the German Olympic team. Lambert, who has lived in the United States since 1937, recalls, “I received a letter saying I could not compete. I was very angry at the beginning, but then I felt a sense of relief because I knew that they would have to get rid of me and it might have been in a violent way. Although it hurt a lot, I was still alive.”

The 1936 Olympic Games
As documented in Leni Riefenstahl’s film Olympia, the 1936 Games were a grandiose spectacle and a masterful, chilling wake-up call as to the might of this previously disparaged nation. Elaborately choreographed, the Berlin Games began with an innovation that continues to this day: the carrying and lighting of the Olympic Torch.

Participants included the United States and 48 other countries, a record number. Outside the arena, the mask went up and the signs came down: “Jews Not Allowed” came off movie theatres and public parks; “Jewish Owned Business” was taken from shops. All indications or suggestions of anti-Semitism were hidden or temporarily removed.

As a token of their agreement with the IOC, German authorities allowed the part-Jewish fencer Helene Mayer to compete. But no other Jewish athlete represented Germany. American and European Jewish athletes individually wrestled with their consciences. Some declined to come as a sign of solidarity with the German Jews. Others came to compete, but at the last moment were replaced.

This was the situation, in fact, for one of the events in which Jesse Owens, the triumphant African American athlete, participated. Marty Glickman and Sam Stoller, the only two Jews on the American track team, were set to run when their coach replaced them with Owens and Ralph Metcalf. Why the switch happened is still uncertain. Owens went on to become part of Olympic history, the first competitor to win four golds (in the 100 meters, the 200 meters, the long jump, and the 4x100-meter relay). His dominating victories were particularly galling to Nazi racists.

Nineteen African Americans competed that year, triple the number of black competitors in the 1932 Los Angeles Olympic Games. Of the Jews who did compete, nine received medals.

“These athletes stood up to the most brutal regime in modern history,” says Arthur Berger, director of communications for the Holocaust Museum. “The Nazi regime tried to use the Olympics for its own purposes. Some of the athletes would not let it happen. They believed in the importance of the Olympics for athletic achievement, for the world, and for democracy. They are the true heroes of the 1936 Olympics.”

THE NAZI OLYMPICS Berlin 1936: The Exhibition

Like everything else related to the Olympic Games, the exhibition, “THE NAZI OLYMPICS Berlin 1936,” is extensive in its scope and size. In 1997, two years after the IOC named Salt Lake City the location of the 2002 Olympic Winter Games, Ronald Smelser, professor of history, approached Peter Black, senior historian with the Holocaust Museum, with whom he had collaborated on several projects. After confirmation that it might be possible to acquire the exhibition, Ronald Coleman BS’66 PhD’80, associate professor of history and then vice president for diversity, was introduced to the possibility. He immediately embraced it, approached Clif Drew, associate vice president for Academic Outreach and Continuing Education, and John Francis, associate vice president for academic affairs, and the project became a collaborative effort.

Smelser’s and Coleman’s enthusiasm struck a chord with everyone they approached. “This is truly a University effort—administration, faculty, staff, and students,” Smelser notes. But the centerpiece is the Marriott Library. “Sarah Michalak [director of the Marriott Library] responded quite courageously,” Smelser says. “She had the vision of what this could do for the University and how critical the library was as a focal point, not only for our students but also for the state and international communities.” The exhibition, on loan for an unprecedented seven months, covers over 8,000 square feet and has required a reconfiguration of the main floor of the library.

“We have never had an exhibition of this size and duration,” says Michalak. “Usually our exhibits are modest and complementary to our collection. This puts the library in the role of a museum.” Indeed, with video stations, copies of historical posters, textual material, audio clips, interviews, and a lecture series, the exhibition will be comprehensive.

The exhibition, deemed part of the Cultural Olympiad, will also serve as a catalyst for related programs, classes, and lectures. In addition, beginning in January the Marriott Library will host an exhibit based on a new book from the University of Utah Press, Eileen Hallett Stone’s A Homeland in the West, which examines the migration of Jewish settlers to Utah. Together, the exhibition and its expanded menu will provide an opportunity to review, with rare deliberation, a short portion of history that had so many consequences.


Elise Lazar, director of marketing for the theatre department, profiled Professor Mauricio Mixco in the Spring 2001 Continuum.

For information on related events, including a film festival, courses on the Holocaust, and a course on “The World of Nazi Art,” call Professor Ronald Smelser at 801-581-6504.