When you think of the Volkswagen Beetle, images of peace signs, surfboards, and flower power likely come to mind. But rewind the clock, and the story of this iconic “people’s car” begins in a very different — and much darker — place.
This isn’t just a tale of engineering brilliance. It’s a story of politics, propaganda, and one of the most unexpected partnerships in automotive history: Adolf Hitler and Ferdinand Porsche. One, the tyrannical dictator with a grand vision for Germany. The other, a gifted engineer with dreams of designing a small, affordable car for the masses. Together, they laid the foundation for what would become one of the most recognizable vehicles ever built.
“These two were made for each other,” said historian Wolfram Pyta, co-author of Porsche: From Design Office to Global Brand. The book explores how Porsche’s genius and Hitler’s ambition collided in a collaboration that birthed the Volkswagen Beetle — but not quite in the way we imagine it today.
Strength Through… Horsepower?
In 1933, shortly after becoming Reich Chancellor, Hitler declared a plan for “people’s motorization” — a car for every German family. A year later, the Nazi regime gave Porsche the official go-ahead to build that car under the slogan “Kraft durch Freude” — “Strength Through Joy.” Ironically, the car was anything but joyful at first.
Despite Hitler’s personal approval of the prototype in 1935 — which is ironic, considering he never even had a driver’s license — the project quickly swerved from civilian use to military service. By 1938, when the Volkswagen factory’s cornerstone was laid in Wolfsburg with the Führer proudly in attendance, the dream of a people’s car had already been militarized. The “Volkswagen” was used for troop transport and all-terrain operations during the war. Porsche’s own 1934 brochure gave the game away: the car had to be “suitable not only for personal use, but also for military purposes.”
A New Beginning — With a New Name
The true story of the Beetle as we know it didn’t begin until after the war. When the dust settled and the Nazis were gone, Volkswagen had to clean up its image — fast. And so, the “Volkswagen” was rebranded as the “Beetle,” a quirky, hunchbacked car with a boxer engine that was now all about peace, love, and practicality. Production restarted in December 1945, and by 1955, the one-millionth Beetle had rolled off the line. Ultimately, nearly 22 million would be sold worldwide.
Its Nazi origin? Almost forgotten — at least publicly. Ironically, it was France’s socialist government that tried to claim the blueprints for itself after the war, even approaching Porsche in October 1945. But Renault and Peugeot weren’t having it. According to Pyta, “they conspired to block the German ‘voiture populaire.’”
The French authorities even arrested Porsche and his son-in-law Anton Piëch in December 1945 on accusations of war crimes. They were held without trial until August 1947 — a dramatic twist in the postwar reckoning.
Morality vs. Ambition
Ultimately, the Beetle survived not just because of clever engineering or marketing, but because its story was reinvented. Ferdinand Porsche’s collaboration with Hitler wasn’t unusual, Pyta argues. Many brilliant minds set aside ethics in the face of opportunity. “Porsche was not the only one to push aside moral considerations when presented with unlimited opportunism,” Pyta said. “Business leaders interested solely in their company’s success or in implementing ambitious technical projects often have no qualms in doing deals with the devil.”
And yet, the Beetle outgrew its past — cruising from warzones to Woodstock, from propaganda posters to Pixar films. It may have been born out of darkness, but it rolled into the light — and into our hearts.
