It is worth noting that fascist tribalism never directly addressed the most important sources of its adherents’ painful sense of diminishment.  It would not have been feasible to grab the Great Depression by the throat, or to get people out into the streets shaking their fists at the ways in which the modern world had deprived men of opportunities to be appreciated for the traditional manly virtues.

But as a functional matter, this wasn’t necessary.  All the fascists had to do was identify a suitable enemy on whom their people’s troubles could be blamed (the French, the Communists, the Jews, whoever), and then initiate a fight.  At this point, ancient tribal imperatives took over.

In the aftermath of World War II, it was lamentably common for Germans to say they had mainly been caught up in the color and pageantry of Hitler’s brilliantly-orchestrated rallies, parades, and other public events.  In fact, choral singing, long beloved by the German people, was used so effectively by the Nazis that many contemporary Germans now shun it, believing that it has an inherent tendency to make people stupid.

Hitler’s spectacles were indeed compelling, but to ascribe their attraction simply to highly developed showmanship would profoundly miss the point.   While they may have been well-executed, what ultimately made them stirring was the sense they gave people of being part of a mighty tribe that was reclaiming its rightful place in the world.

Caught up in this sensation, people were able to feel as if the sources of their painful sense of personal insignificance had vanished.  The urge to maintain this feeling was so intense that they became effectively incapable of stepping back to more soberly assess where the fascist agenda was leading.