The story of the Reichstag Fire reads like a thriller: arson, arrests, and the overnight death of a republic. Occurring mere weeks after Hitler’s chancellorship, the February 27 inferno in Berlin’s Reichstag building reshaped Europe.
Eyewitnesses saw 24-year-old Marinus van der Lubbe fleeing the scene, matches in pocket, proclaiming his deed. A known radical, his act fit Nazi claims of leftist terror. Hermann Göring, on site, allegedly quipped about communists before firefighting began.
President Hindenburg signed the Fire Decree, empowering indefinite detentions without trial. Leftist parties were outlawed, leaders exiled or imprisoned in Dachau’s early camps. The March 23 Enabling Act, passed in a half-burned Reichstag, formalized one-man rule.
Post-war investigations, including Nuremberg, found no conclusive Nazi involvement, though suspicions linger due to the regime’s rapid response. What mattered was opportunism: the fire discredited enemies, unified supporters, and legitimized authoritarianism.
Generations later, it exemplifies ‘shock doctrine’—exploiting calamity for radical change. Germany’s descent into war and genocide traces back to that spark, teaching eternal vigilance against power grabs disguised as protection.