The Dangerous Lie of “Blood and Soil” Nationalism in America
- Graham E. Whitaker
- 18 hours ago
- 4 min read

The phrase “blood and soil” may sound like a relic from a dark chapter in European history, but it has been resurrected in American politics. Rooted in Nazi ideology, this brand of nationalism claims that a nation is defined not by shared values or civic life, but by race (“blood”) and land ownership or heritage (“soil”). When modern extremists chant these words—as they did in Charlottesville in 2017—they are not simply making a cultural statement. They are promoting a worldview that undermines democracy, erodes freedom, and fractures the very foundation of what it means to be American.
A Toxic Import with Deadly Consequences
“Blood and soil” nationalism originated in 19th and 20th-century Germany, where it was used to justify racial purity laws, land seizures, and genocide. The Nazis wielded it to argue that only ethnic Germans had the right to occupy German land—a belief that paved the way for the Holocaust. When that ideology resurfaces in America, it carries the same poisonous implications: that only certain racial or ethnic groups are “real” Americans, and that others are inherently foreign, expendable, or enemies.
This is not a theoretical danger. Hate crimes in the United States have surged in recent years, with the FBI reporting record highs in race-based violence. The “blood and soil” mentality directly fuels these attacks by dehumanizing immigrants, Jewish people, Black Americans, Indigenous nations, and others who do not fit the white nationalist mold.
What It Means for Indigenous Peoples
There’s a particular hypocrisy in chanting “blood and soil” on American soil. If the idea were applied honestly, the only people with legitimate ancestral claims to this land would be Indigenous nations: the Seminole, Navajo, Muscogee, Lakota, Miccosukee, and hundreds more. For Native peoples:
Soil represents ancestral homelands, often stolen through violence, broken treaties, and forced relocation.
Blood is about kinship, sovereignty, and cultural survival—not racial purity, but living connection to community and tradition.
Yet white nationalists do not invoke Indigenous sovereignty when they use this phrase. Instead, they erase it. They claim their European “blood” grants them ownership of American “soil,” while ignoring the genocide and dispossession that made their settlement possible. This is settler colonialism dressed in fascist clothing.
Indigenous leaders often remind us that belonging to the land isn’t about ancestry—it’s about responsibility. To belong is to care for the soil, waters, and communities, not to dominate them. That worldview is fundamentally incompatible with fascist nationalism, and it’s the one America desperately needs.
Why It Betrays America’s Core Values
The United States was never meant to be a nation defined by a single ethnicity or ancestry. Our founding documents, imperfect as they were, rested on the radical idea of building a country around shared ideals—freedom, equality, self-governance—rather than bloodlines. While America has never fully lived up to that promise, every step toward justice and inclusion—from abolishing slavery to granting women the vote to dismantling segregation—has been a rejection of “blood and soil” thinking.
Embracing racial nationalism would mean turning away from centuries of struggle and progress. It would rewrite the meaning of citizenship from being about participation and rights to being about race and inheritance, betraying the democratic experiment at the heart of this country.
The Economic and Social Costs
Beyond its moral bankruptcy, “blood and soil” nationalism weakens America in practical terms. The U.S. thrives because of its diversity—immigrant workers, scientists, teachers, entrepreneurs, and cultural leaders have built this country’s economy and shaped its identity. Immigrants start businesses at higher rates than U.S.-born citizens. Multiracial democracy is our competitive advantage.
Who Is Pushing This Now
And yet, some of the very people currently in positions of power are dismantling that advantage. Politicians who promote exclusionary nationalism—whether through mass deportation campaigns, anti-immigrant rhetoric, book bans that erase diverse histories, or attacks on voting rights—are weakening America’s future.
Instead of investing in education, healthcare, and infrastructure, these leaders are pouring resources into fear campaigns about who “belongs” and who doesn’t. Instead of harnessing the strength of diversity, they are building walls—literal and political—that cut us off from innovation, labor, and global partnerships.
Nationalism built on exclusion doesn’t make America strong. It makes us poorer, sicker, and more divided. It drives away talent, isolates us from allies, and leaves us less prepared to meet challenges like climate change or economic upheaval. Every time a leader leans into racial purity politics, they are not saving America—they are sabotaging it.
A Tool of Authoritarians
The resurgence of this ideology in the U.S. is not accidental. Authoritarian movements often weaponize fear of the “other” to consolidate power. By pushing myths about demographic “replacement” or “invasion,” they distract working people from real problems like low wages, unaffordable healthcare, and climate disasters. Dividing people along racial lines keeps the powerful in charge, while ordinary Americans bear the costs.
A Better Vision for America
Rejecting “blood and soil” nationalism doesn’t mean ignoring our history of injustice—it means learning from it. We must embrace an inclusive democracy that values people for their contributions and humanity, not ancestry. That means protecting voting rights, supporting immigration pathways, respecting Indigenous sovereignty, telling the full truth about our history, and celebrating the richness of our diverse communities.
The American identity should be defined by solidarity, fairness, and a commitment to freedom—not by the narrow vision of white nationalism.
What We Can Do
Call it out. Don’t let coded language like “replacement theory” or “heritage” nationalism go unchallenged. Name it for what it is: recycled Nazi propaganda.
Support inclusive leaders. Vote for candidates who stand firmly against white nationalism and protect the rights of all Americans.
Honor Indigenous sovereignty. Support land-back movements, tribal treaty rights, and Native-led environmental justice efforts.
Build community. Strengthen local networks across lines of race, religion, and culture. The antidote to “blood and soil” is solidarity and belonging.
Teach real history. Demand honest education about fascism, racism, colonization, and the struggles for civil rights so future generations are equipped to resist these ideas.
Final Thought
America is at its best when it refuses to be a country of bloodlines and instead becomes a country of shared dreams. “Blood and soil” nationalism would turn us backward toward exclusion, violence, and tyranny. Leaders who push this ideology are not patriots—they are actively destroying America’s strength. Standing against them isn’t just about protecting vulnerable communities—it’s about defending democracy itself.
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