Albert Speer Wants Credit

Monumental architecture is never neutral. From the proposed Commanders stadium to Trump’s National Mall plans, a pattern emerges—one that echoes Albert Speer, anticipatory compliance, and happy collaborators.

Albert Speer Wants Credit
Albert Speer called—he wants design credit.

The proposed Washington Commanders NFL stadium is one example of high Trump-Nazi style.

My first thought after seeing renderings for the proposed Washington Commanders NFL stadium was “Albert Speer.” The columns around the perimeter—they looked fascist. Fascist architecture creates building spaces massive enough that human scale is lost, symbols of ongoing oppression made of concrete and steel that say you are nothing within the state. These columns have less to do with supporting the roof and more with putting people in their place.

I may be biased, considering my long-standing belief Trump and his administration are all Hitler fans. So what if there are so many columns—perhaps it just reflects the neoclassical style ubiquitous in the District of Columbia? Trump likes columns, so HKS Architects put them in to keep him from making trouble on Truth Social. My reaction could just be the hair trigger I have for Trump’s Nazi connections.

Then, I found this May 2025 The Architect's Newspaper article —"Donald Trump’s 2027 NFL Draft plans for the Washington, D.C. National Mall echo stadium by Albert Speer."

Rendering of the 2027 NFL Draft on the National Mall (Courtesy NFL)
Trump's homage to Albert Speer

I cannot describe Trump's NFL draft venue planning any better than the article itself:

Anyone versed in the Third Reich can see an obvious comparison: Albert Speer’s Cathedral of Light in Nazi Germany, famously captured in films by Leni Riefenstahl. . . The Cathedral of Light (Lichtdom) was a stadium for rallies. It had 152 anti-aircraft spotlights spaced 40 feet apart from one another. It was used between 1934 and 1938. Now, White House plans for the National Mall are jarringly similar.
The Cathedral of Light circa 1937 (Author Unknown/Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain)
Trump's inspiration.

But wait, there's more. Take a look at Trump's arch. What do you think about this comparison?

Rendering of Trump's proposed arch
Rendering of Trump's proposed arch.
Albert Speer's design for Germania.

So, back to the stadium: consider its design again from this perspective. While no one will say Trump directed his architects to channel Speer, such designs shed light on what pleases Trump. And that is disturbing.

Against the backdrop of ICE in Minnesota today and the myriad other fascistic crimes this administration commits every day, Trump's Nazi architecture fetish feels like the least of our concerns. But these projects speak to how Trump is indulged. There are professionals who will happily build his vision—even anticipate what he wants and bring it to fruition. This is an illustration of how fascism collects its collaborators and what we will all be coping with for years to come.

As Yeats said, “the worst are full of passionate intensity.” As collaboration is rewarded, the scum rises to the surface. The principled civil servant eventually must leave. Committed professionals turn away from these corrupted projects. Fascism throws out the wheat and keeps the chaff, leaving us with those who will shoot the harmless observer, break into reporters’ homes, and build these monstrosities.

Trump will gather collaborators over his time in office. The authoritarian personalities within the civil service will come to the fore. Professionals and businesses will increasingly shape themselves into his worldview for the money and power that flows from a relationship with Trump. Democracy will prevail eventually—our country is no Weimar and MAGA is far from being organized as the Nazis were. But if we cannot resist a stadium or an arch, and keep them from scarring our landscape, we will have let his rot burrow so deeply, it will take generations to recover.