Joe the Plumber Godwins gun control

"Obama is Literally Hitler" he didn't say, but may as well have.

Samuel "Joe the Plumber" Wurzelbacher, who first gained fame in the 2008 Presidential election when he confronted Barack Obama over small business taxation, is running for Congress on a platform of "I won't do the holocaust but Barack Obama might". Seriously:

For those that can't watch the video, it opens with some cheery music and footage of Wurzelbacher loading his shotgun and shooting some fruit, over which he narrates:

In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917 1.5 million Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were exterminated. In 1939 Germany established gun control. From 1939 to 1945 six million Jews and seven million others, unable to defend themselves, were exterminated.

Wurzelbacher then turns to the camera, smiles, and says "I love America".

The implication is clear: if Democrats are trying to establish gun controls, it is because they are Literally Hitler.

It is quite possibly one of the most shameless invocations of Godwin's law (originally a prediction that "as an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches one", the phrase has now come to mean roughly "if you invoke Hitler, it is because you have no real argument to make") ever seen in the political sphere. 

Wurzelbacher denies this interpretation, writing on twitter:

Hitler wrote in Mein Kampf that his agenda would not be possible unless the people were disarmed.(Facts, Liberal hate them & ignore them). . . No one in the video said gun control CAUSED genocide. . .

Joe the Plumber: "I love America"

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.