When delusions command armies by Timothy Davies

In a scene we’ve seen before, different actors, same script, history shudders as yet another man, inflated by self-worship and allergic to expertise, grabs the wheel and drives straight toward the abyss. When Adolf Hitler assumed control of Germany, the seeds of defeat were already sown, not because of Allied superiority, but because Hitler’s oversized ego thought it knew better than the very generals who’d devoted their lives to the science of war. Now, eerily echoing that catastrophic arrogance, Donald Trump once again steps into historical quicksand, this time dragging the world behind him.

The recent attack on Iran, orchestrated not by seasoned military counsel but seemingly by a man who believes Truth-media is a diplomatic channel and golf carts double as war rooms, has all the hallmarks of another historical blunder. What makes it worse is that this is not ignorance; it’s willful, proud ignorance. A type of self-importance that stinks of empire nostalgia and toxic nationalism, disguised behind the “Make America Great Again” hat, ironically made in China.

Trump's approach to foreign policy, especially with Iran, mirrors Hitler’s disregard for institutional wisdom. Hitler sidelined his generals, dismissed dissenting voices, and micromanaged battles with no more tactical sense than a barstool strategist with a map drawn in ketchup. Trump, meanwhile, treats intelligence briefings like Netflix recommendations, optional, unless they flatter him. Advisers are not there to advise but to applaud. Experts are not experts unless they agree. And enemies? They are useful only as cardboard villains in a Fox News segment.

When Trump ordered the attack on Iran, bypassing traditional consultation and showing the same contempt for complexity as one might show for reading the instructions on a microwave dinner, he wasn’t just provoking a geopolitical crisis, he was confirming that, once again, history has a blind date with catastrophe.

It’s not just about one drone, one target, or one retaliation. It’s about a pattern: power centralized in the hands of someone who believes reality bends to his ego. The military warned. The diplomats balked. The intelligence community whispered unease. But Trump, as always, marched forward, chest puffed, facts optional, consequences be damned.

Sound familiar? Hitler’s meddling in military strategy turned potential victories into embarrassing retreats. His refusal to listen allowed Stalingrad to become not just a loss but a symbol of his catastrophic hubris. And as he hid in his bunker, ranting about betrayals, the world counted the millions who’d paid for his ego with their lives.

Trump may not have a bunker, but he has a social media echo chamber and a MAGA rally. And when reality starts collapsing, as it always does with demagogues, he’ll find someone else to blame: the “fake news,” the “deep state,” or perhaps the weather.

There is no joy in comparing anyone to Hitler. It is a heavy comparison, and should never be thrown like an insult in a shouting match. But when the parallels extend beyond personality and into patterns of behavior—disdain for experts, love of spectacle, obsession with loyalty, and a complete inability to accept fault, it becomes less about insult and more about warning.

Trump’s attack on Iran is not a show of strength. It is the trembling fist of a man who mistakes bravado for leadership and confusion for cunning. Like Hitler, he believes in instinct over information. Like Hitler, he thinks strategy is for cowards and patience is for the weak. And like Hitler, he may find that the world is less impressed by noise than by results.

History doesn’t just repeat, it sometimes plagiarizes. The tragic part is that we already know how this story ends: not with a bang of victory, but with the slow, humiliating realization that when delusion leads, defeat is inevitable. The only difference this time? We’re all watching in real time ...one tweet at a time.