In late May 1933, students and professors gathered in Freiburg to hear their new rector speak. The swastika hung over the university, books by Jewish and “un-German” authors were already burning in German squares, and Martin Heidegger, freshly joined to the Nazi Party, stepped forward to tell them that the “self-assertion” of the German university and the destiny of the German people belonged to the same historic mission. He spoke the language of fate and renewal, not footnotes. The man who had asked philosophy to confront anxiety, finitude, and the question of Being now wrapped those themes around a regime that promised rebirth through obedience.