The Ancient Roman Salute That Never Existed
Is America gaslighting itself?
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In 1936, at the Blohm and Voss shipyard in Hamburg, Germany, a photograph captures a sea of outstretched arms saluting a newly christened German navy vessel. It’s the kind of chilling image that makes you feel history‘s boot on your neck.
And yet, there, in the top right-hand corner, stands one man, arms crossed, expression defiant. This man is believed to be August Landmesser.
Landmesser’s rebellion wasn’t just a fluke of courage. It was personal. He was in love with Irma Eckler, a Jewish woman, in an era when such a relationship was considered an affront to Nazi ideology. Their love, illegal under the Nuremberg Laws, was a middle finger to the regime. When Landmesser refused the salute, he wasn’t just rejecting a gesture — he was defying an entire system built on hate.
The price of defiance? This love story doesn’t have a happy ending.
Landmesser proposed to Irma in 1935, but their marriage application was denied. In 1937, the couple attempted to flee to Denmark with their young daughter but were arrested. Landmesser was sentenced to three years in a concentration camp, and Irma was sent to a series of camps, including Ravensbrück, before being executed in 1942 at the Bernburg Euthanasia Centre. Landmesser was later conscripted into a penal military unit and died in Croatia in 1944.
That photograph, frozen in time, became his legacy: a single act of resistance in a storm of conformity.
Flash forward to our present fascist regime, and conformity comes with a dash of gaslighting, misinformation, and a propaganda machine courtesy of the broligarch.
As we all know by now, during the inauguration fanfare, Elon Musk made the Nazi salute…twice.
And then the gaslighting began.
Musk responded with his usual spin, accusing Democrats of not seeing what anyone with two eyeballs could see. “Frankly, they need better dirty tricks,” he wrote. “The ‘everyone is Hitler’ attack is sooo tired.”
Yeah, we are tired too , Elon— tired of you acting like Hitler. Stop making the comparisons so obvious. It’s soooooooo derivative.
Of course, Musk’s MAGA-X cult found his actions demure. Many called it a “boyish” gesture. (These are the same folks who couldn’t stomach Kamala Harris’ girlish laugh.)
Others claimed it was merely the playful effusiveness common with autistic people. Sure. Maybe autistic Nazis. Every autistic person I know prefers a handshake.
But the most popular defense for Il Duce’s disgusting actions was to claim it was a “Roman salute.” There is only one problem. The Roman salute doesn’t exist. Or at least it didn’t exist in Ancient Rome.
So, what’s the real story behind the Nazi salute? To answer that question, we must trace its cinematic, political, and yes…US origins.
The “Roman Salute”: A Filmmaker’s Fantasy
Let’s get one thing straight: the “Roman salute” is about as authentically Roman as pineapple on pizza. Ancient Romans didn’t have a formalized salute involving an outstretched arm. This dramatized salute first appeared in art and melodramatic plays about Rome centuries after the fall of Rome.
Painters like Jacques-Louis David helped popularize the trope with works such as The Oath of the Horatii (1784) (shown above), depicting heroic figures raising their arms in dramatic unity.
The gesture gained mainstream traction thanks to Giovanni Pastrone’s 1914 silent epic, Cabiria. Set during the Roman Republic’s wars with Carthage, the film’s characters frequently extended their arms in what was meant to convey martial loyalty and grandeur. Pastrone likely thought it looked regal and dramatic — perfect for the silver screen. Little did he know this bit of cinematic flair would leap from fiction into fascist propaganda.
Mussolini’s Theatrics
Enter Benito Mussolini, the maestro of fascist pageantry. Il Duce was the first to adopt the so-called “Roman salute” as a political gesture, using it to evoke the glory of Italy’s imperial past. For Mussolini, the salute was more than a symbol; it was theater. He wielded it like a conductor’s baton, orchestrating a nation’s march toward dictatorship.
Mussolini’s propaganda machine churned out images of the salute in rallies, parades, and newsreels, embedding it into the cultural psyche. It was this Italian import that caught the attention of one Adolf Hitler.
Hitler’s German Makeover
Hitler, ever the obsessive myth-maker, co-opted Mussolini’s salute to fit his vision of Aryan supremacy. But being Hitler, he couldn’t resist adding a fictional backstory to give the gesture a Germanic twist.
In Hitler’s Table Talk, the dictator claimed inspiration from Martin Luther, asserting that the Protestant reformer had been greeted with a “German salute” at the Diet of Worms.
Historical evidence? Zero. Luther’s hands were likely too busy holding his 95 Theses to invent salutes.
So why did Hitler cling to this myth? Perhaps it was his way of repackaging an Italian import into something distinctly German. Or maybe it had a more functional purpose. Hitler believed it was a way to show you were not carrying weapons. Clearly, the guy had trust issues or didn’t think pockets existed. (Pro tip: If someone insists on a gesture to prove they’re unarmed, they’re probably the most dangerous person in the room.)
The Salute’s Homegrown Roots — the Bellamy Salute
The salute’s use wasn’t confined to Italy and Germany. Before World War II, the gesture was adopted by other fascist movements, including Francisco Franco’s regime in Spain.
It was even (gulp)…used in the US.
The salute — called the Bellamy salute — was created by James B. Upham and named after Francis Bellamy, the author of the Pledge of Allegiance. Of course, once WWII was in full swing, Americans sought to distance themselves from all the Heil Hitler nonsense and changed their display of nationalistic reverence to placing a hand over the heart.
“If you have 10 people and 1 Nazi sitting at a dinner table and willingly eating together, you have 11 Nazis.” - German saying
The Gesture’s Power — And Resistance to It
The Nazi salute wasn’t just a symbol; it was a tool of control. Refusing to perform it was tantamount to rebellion. Even subtle acts of defiance carried immense risk. Teachers who refused to salute in classrooms were reported by students. Soldiers who hesitated during roll call faced court-martial. The Nazi salute became a litmus test for loyalty, a performative gesture that turned every interaction into a political statement.
Today, doing it in Germany will get you arrested.
Many will argue — none of this matters. It’s just melodrama to distract from the oligarch’s main objective — lining their pockets. While I agree that we shouldn’t overreact to every dumpster fire Trump and his billionaire bros light, this is not one of those times. Gestures matter.
I decided to let two of my German friends settle this debate. Their replies were eerily similar. They both said America is in the denial stage. Their reasoning? Americans shouldn’t be debating what they saw with their own eyes. That’s denial.
I have to agree. Ultimately, the question isn’t whether the salute was Roman, Italian, or German. It’s why we’re still entertaining these gestures in any form, knowing the history they carry.
Carlyn Beccia is an award-winning author and illustrator of 13 books. Subscribe to Conversations with Carlyn for free content every Wednesday, or become a paid subscriber to get the juicy stuff on Sundays.
Ironically, Bellamy was a minister, but his pledge was free of xenophobic edits and deist references. We have later polity to thank for them. No comment on the salute named for his pledge.