It was for anyone, even an outsider, impossible to react objectively to the Nuremberg rallies. The spectator was either, like Burn, swept up in an orgy of emotion or, as in the case of the writer Robert Byron, utterly repelled. ‘There can be no compromise with these people,’ Byron wrote from Berlin after attending the 1938 rally. ‘There is no room in the world for them and me, and one has got to go.’3 Whether thrilled or appalled, no visitor from overseas could fail to be bowled over by the sheer scale of the pageantry.
