6 Million Reasons to Thank Larry David

Much has been made about Holocaust illiteracy. Two-thirds of Millennials and Gen Z believe fewer than six million Jews were murdered, with over half thinking the toll was under two million. One in five New Yorkers believe Jews caused the Holocaust.

While it’s easy to despair, it’s important to honor those selflessly carrying the torch of Holocaust remembrance forward. In particular: you, Larry David.

Lesser comedians might toss off an occasional Hitler joke. Larry, you have made it a calling. For decades, you have worked tirelessly to keep Adolf Hitler’s memory vivid, threading Hitler references through every phase of your comedy career. Again. And again. And again.

Mel Brooks gave us Springtime for Hitler and dancing Nazis. But Brooks had the self-interest of serving in World War II, including defusing landmines. Larry you demonstrate a far broader commitment: finding humor in the brutalized victims, the blood-stained artifacts, and the haunted survivors, too.

From early stand-up (“the one thing about Hitler that I admire…”), to the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld, to the “Hitler” wife in the very first episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, you have been there to remind us. Making out during Schindler’s List. Pickup lines for concentration camp inmates. A Holocaust survivor debating suffering levels with a Survivor contestant. Stealing shoes from a Holocaust Museum exhibit. A man with numbers tattooed on his forearm—not a Holocaust survivor, but someone who temporarily inks his lotto ticket numbers each week. And now, “My Dinner with Adolf.”

Lesser comics would need to vary their material, but you’ve remained steadfast in returning to Hitler, Nazi, and Concentration Camp jokes. Again. And again. And again.

Perhaps what’s most notable is your willingness not just to remember Hitler, but to try to empathize with him. As your shtick shows, you are both passionate ranters—Hitler about world domination, you about proper sandwich etiquette. You both have specific societal visions—extermination of minority groups on the one hand, rigid dinner buffet protocols on the other. Hitler died in 1945; Larry, you were born in 1947. The torch literally passed.

Stalin killed millions in purges and forced famines. Mao’s campaigns led to starvation and executions of tens of millions. Pol Pot slaughtered no less than a quarter of Cambodia’s population. There’s a whole world of atrocities out there. Yet you have stayed resolute: Hitler, Hitler, Hitler. Again. And again. And again.

Larry, your selfless dedication to Holocaust remembrance is unparalleled. While lesser comedians might occasionally trivialize the genocide for a cheap laugh, you’ve elevated it—no, commodified it—into something of a personal brand. Your unwavering commitment to mining the Holocaust for meaningful social and political insight is nothing short of heroic. It is certainly not odd, definitely not kind of off, nor self-serving for cheap laughs, as some uncharitable observers might suggest. Really, what better way to combat rising historical illiteracy, desensitization, and the weaponization of Holocaust memory than by making it a go-to punchline?

But Larry, even Atlas puts the world down once in a while. Your work has been noted. You’ve earned the right to unshackle yourself from the obligation to reference Hitler. Again. And again. And again. Please know, humanity will remember Hitler now, even if you give yourself permission to talk about someone else, if, for no other reason, than to freshen up your shtick. Within the Nazi era, Heinrich Himmler offers potential—like you, he had an eye for things not going precisely as they should. Joseph Goebbels—a fellow media man! Or Ilse Koch, the “Witch of Buchenwald,” who collected human skin. Think of the service you could provide by educating Americans about these lesser-known monsters, too. Or tell a Stalin joke. Mussolini awaits. Pol Pot stands ready, too

The pool of sadistic dictators is vast, Larry—why stay in the bunker?