Not quite; he supported Hitler, but represented a separate institution: the Church. A reminder that fascism rises not just as a consequence of legislative or executive shenanifans, but when civil institutions are complicit in it.
It is certainly an interesting perspective. When reading the poem without context it’s easy to think “I wasn’t a Communist” is the perspective of a hypothetical participant, but it is entirely autobiographical and the callousness of the protagonist is painfully real.
[…] what would have happened, if in the year 1933 or 1934—there must have been a possibility—14,000 Protestant pastors and all Protestant communities in Germany had defended the truth until their deaths? If we had said back then, it is not right when Hermann Göring simply puts 100,000 Communists in the concentration camps, in order to let them die. I can imagine that perhaps 30,000 to 40,000 Protestant Christians would have had their heads cut off, but I can also imagine that we would have rescued 30–40 million people, because that is what it is costing us now.
So is chocolate, yet no one complains about it.
“Vanilla”, for some reason, has come to mean “plain” in English. That is a specific linguistic quirk. It doesn’t exist in my native language, and not coincidentally no-one who I share this native language with would think to give me shit because my favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla, because it’d be just as nonsensical and out of the left field as making fun of someone for preferring chocolate flavor.