Hitler was a vegetarian. It’s simple, really; Hitler caused a mass genocide -- O, but he was a vegetarian! Adolf Hitler is known as the dictator of Nazi Germany, who believed in the superiority of the Aryan race and butchered millions of Jews. A well-known racist and segregationist, his morals are widely considered questionable, but more than that, his being a vegetarian seems ironic for more reasons than one. 

One, the less likely, is that his vegetarianism stemmed from a genuine empathy for animals. But it’s kind of hard to believe that the man who orchestrated a huge genocide suddenly gained a conscience when it came to animals. Advocates of this theory, though, point towards anecdotal evidence of Hitler’s aversion to animal cruelty, citing instances when he expressed disdain for hunting and even animal experimentation.

Two, the more believable possibility could be that vegetarianism suited his belly well. Historical accounts suggest that Hitler was plagued with various health issues. His personal physician, Dr. Theodor Morell, reportedly recommended dietary modifications to help with his digestive troubles. 

So, if he wasn’t a vegetarian because he felt bad for the animals getting slaughtered, but rather saw a personal gain in giving up on meat, does it invalidate his decision? Does it matter why he was a vegetarian? If people do good, do their intentions matter as much as the outcome? If so, should they be rewarded for doing good even when they didn’t mean to? Does the good deed get invalidated because of their lack of due diligence, or do they just not get credit or validation for their contribution?

In exploring the dichotomy between intentions and outcomes, we confront the ethical dilemma: should individuals be judged on the basis of their intentions or the consequences of their actions? If Hitler’s vegetarianism was out of genuine concern for animal welfare, does that mitigate the atrocities he committed? Conversely, if his dietary choices were purely self-serving, does it detract from the moral weight of his crimes?

Let’s take another example, a more personal one. Recently, I visited Kashmir. There, I had the opportunity to interact with locals and understand their experiences when it came to the revocation of article 370. These discussions helped shed light on the complexities surrounding the integration of Kashmir into India. Article 370 was a provision in the Indian Constitution that granted special autonomy to the region of Jammu and Kashmir, giving the state its own constitution. This article was revoked in 2019, by the Government of India under Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Although this integration of Kashmir did help with development in the Kashmir region, some would contest the main objective behind this. The abolition of this article brought about several changes in Kashmir, like it increased employment, more investment in the region, promoted tourism, provided the people better access to education and healthcare, etc.

But if the Government of India revoked the article to foster greater unity, development and security across the entire country, and not just Kashmir, then should the citizens of Kashmir still be grateful to the government for all the benefits they received? Speaking to the people of Kashmir was definitely an intriguing experience as some of the people were eternally grateful since it created job opportunities for them and their families, and fostered peace, but some also believed that the government did not do it for their benefit, so they need not be grateful to them. This example impels us to delve deeper into ethical questions related to objectives and benefits, but I would like to express the point of this anecdote more clearly.

Although this is a very complicated example, the point being conveyed is simple; is the morality of individuals or even groups of individuals determined by the intentions, or the outcomes of their actions?

The question of whether motive holds significance in defining goodness is the central ethical inquiry here. Consequentialists assert that the consequences of an action are paramount, suggesting that regardless of one's intentions, if the outcome is favourable, then the action is morally justified. Contrarily, there are those who prioritize the inherent righteousness of an action, irrespective of its consequences. This debate echoes themes found in several books and movies, such as in superhero narratives where characters like Batman are depicted as operating on the basis of a strict moral code, irrespective of the outcomes of their actions. This dichotomy underscores the complexities of moral reasoning and invites reflection on the interplay between intentions and outcomes in assessing the ethical value of an action. Of course, these are only a few of the many opinions and arguments based around these moral disputes. 

To conclude, the enigma of Hitler’s vegetarianism serves as a poignant reminder of the complexities of moral judgment. While the motivations behind his dietary choice may never be definitely elucidated, its significance doesn’t lie in the intentions of a single individual, but it instead raises questions about the nature of morality and accountability. But what I love most about exploring these kinds of philosophical questions is that there are so many more questions that we can ask; endless hypotheticals that further give birth to all kinds of nuanced and intriguing questions: What if Hitler never was a vegetarian, but he still cared for animals? Or what if he did not care for animals at all? Does that make him a complete psychopath who had no morals? There are so many questions that can be raised surrounding his moral compass, but the root question is: Where can we draw the line of morality?

- Avantika Jain Kumar is a XIIth standard student of Sanskriti School, New Delhi. She is also an author of a book titled “The Tales of Zariah”.