They’ll call everyone else a Nazi, but the media aren’t sure about the Nazi tattoo guy

They’ll call everyone else a Nazi, but the media aren’t sure about the Nazi tattoo guy

They ll call everyone else a Nazi - When the Graham Platner (D) Senate campaign in Maine recently surfaced with a controversial image, it sparked a wave of scrutiny that highlighted a curious shift in how media outlets frame political narratives. Platner, a Democratic candidate, was found to have an SS Totenkopf tattoo on his chest—a symbol unmistakably associated with the Nazi regime. This discovery, however, has left reporters and commentators scrambling to distance themselves from the harsh labels they once freely applied to conservatives, now hesitating to openly call Platner a Nazi.

The Moral Panic Over White Supremacy

Over the past decade, political activists, news organizations, and academic circles have increasingly weaponized terms like “white supremacy” and “toxic masculinity” to discredit opposing viewpoints. What began as a movement to highlight systemic biases in society has, in recent years, evolved into a tool for ideological warfare. Even mundane actions—like hitting the gym, waving hands, or having children—were once scrutinized under the lens of far-right extremism. The same outlets that claimed to detect fascist ideologies in the most subtle of gestures now find themselves tangled in a new narrative.

Take, for example, the widespread criticism of the “circle game” as a potential harbinger of white supremacy or the alarm raised over the “okay” hand gesture, which was labeled a hate symbol. These instances, while perhaps overreaching, demonstrated a pattern: the media’s rhetoric often transcended specific evidence, relying instead on broad, sweeping accusations. The result was a climate where conservatives were routinely vilified for their beliefs, often without substantial proof of their affiliations with extremist groups.

The Candidate’s Controversial Tattoo

Platner’s Nazi SS tattoo, which he proudly displayed during his military days, has now become a focal point of the campaign’s latest dilemma. The symbol, a skull with crossed bones, is a well-known emblem of the Third Reich, historically linked to genocide and racial ideology. Yet, the media’s initial reaction has been to describe it as a “resemblance” rather than a direct association. This subtle wording choice reflects a broader trend of downplaying the significance of symbols that once carried clear political weight.

“Platner had a tattoo from his Marine days that resembles a Nazi symbol,” NBC News reported last week. The Washington Post similarly noted, “he got a tattoo on his chest covered up that resembled a Nazi symbol.” Even the New York Times cautiously suggested that the design “resembled the Totenkopf,” a term that has been historically tied to Nazi death camps.

This hesitancy is notable, especially given that Platner’s tattoo has been publicly known since at least 2012. A former acquaintance had already pointed out that Platner understood the symbolism behind the Totenkopf, which is a well-established insignia of the SS. The media’s reluctance to call it a Nazi tattoo suggests a strategy of deflection, perhaps to avoid damaging the campaign’s credibility or to preserve the narrative of a moderate candidate.

The Shift in Media Narrative

The current media landscape has become increasingly cautious when addressing symbols that were once unapologetically labeled as fascist. This shift is evident in the language used to describe Platner’s tattoo, which now leans heavily on the word “resemble.” By using this term, outlets like PBS and USA Today attempt to soften the accusation, implying that the tattoo might not be a direct statement of Nazi ideology.

However, the evidence against Platner’s Nazi leanings is as clear as ever. The fact that he referred to the tattoo as “my Totenkopf” during a conversation in 2012 suggests a personal familiarity with the symbol. Furthermore, the context of the tattoo’s creation—during his time in the Marine Corps—adds another layer of complexity. It was not an accidental design but a deliberate choice, which complicates the argument that it was an innocent mistake.

Yet, the media’s current approach is emblematic of a larger trend. When faced with concrete evidence of a candidate’s alignment with far-right ideologies, they revert to cautious phrasing. This behavior contrasts sharply with their earlier willingness to label seemingly minor actions as acts of white supremacy. The inconsistency raises questions about the sincerity of their moral outrage and the extent to which they are willing to confront the truth.

A Broader Implication for Political Discourse

Platner’s case underscores a deeper issue in how political symbols are interpreted. The media’s initial moral panic over “toxic masculinity” and “white supremacy” was, in many instances, a form of ideological smearing. Now, with the same outlets faced with a tangible example of a Nazi symbol, they are quick to adopt a more circumspect tone. This duality reveals a pattern: the media often accuse opponents of extremism without hesitation, but when their own scrutiny uncovers similar traits, they seek to qualify their statements.

Consider the recent debates surrounding President Trump, where media outlets insisted on using the word “lie” to describe his falsehoods. That level of directness has been replaced with a more measured approach when it comes to Platner. Has the media’s commitment to transparency waned? Or are they simply adjusting their language to avoid appearing too harsh in the face of a potentially damaging image?

A Reassessment of the Candidate

Despite the controversy, the author argues that Platner’s actions do not necessarily make him a Nazi. His political platform, while often aligned with Democratic causes, lacks the depth of ideological commitment that would fully justify such a label. When discussing Israel and Palestine, Platner appears to be following party lines rather than offering original perspectives. This suggests a candidate more interested in appealing to a broad base than in articulating a unique vision.

Furthermore, Platner’s personal life—marked by allegations of infidelity and a lack of impulse control—adds to the narrative that he is more of a political weasel than a committed extremist. His insistence on a working-class background, despite a privileged upbringing and attendance at a boarding school with tuition exceeding that of most private universities, further highlights his image as a man who may be more concerned with perception than reality.

So, while the media may still be uncertain about Platner’s Nazi ties, the evidence is there for all to see. The question remains: at what point will the same journalists who once labeled the “okay” hand gesture as a hate symbol be willing to acknowledge the undeniable link between the Totenkopf and the Nazi regime? The answer may lie in the political stakes at hand. With Democrats needing to secure Senate control, Platner’s controversy has become a potential liability that the media may be eager to downplay.