An amazing metaphor

I am reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, which is an interesting account of things that happened during the Holocaust. In the particular part I am in, the main character's family is housing a Jew in their basement (I almost feel guilty writing that on here, because it is such a huge, vital secret in the book). This Jew's name is Max Vandenburg. Before the war, Max was a boxer, but now he is in hiding in a basement to save his life.

There is a point during his stay there that he decides to start working out again, despite his malnourishment. He wonders if it's worth it, and then imagines himself in a boxing ring with Adolf Hitler, the cause of all his problems. For the first portion of the match, Hitler corners Max and pummels him, over and over again, until he is bleeding and falls to the floor. The crowd is cheering. Hitler backs up, and then Max gets up again and taunts, "Come on, Fuhrer." Hitler approaches, and Max dodges in order to back Hitler into the corner. He hits him several times, until Hitler falls to his knees. The following passage is an amazing analogy of exactly what happened in WWII in Germany:

When he [the Fuhrer] returned to his feet, much to the approval of the thousand-strong crowd, he edged forward and did something quite strange. He turned his back on the Jew and took the gloves from his fists.

The crowd was stunned.

"He's given up," someone whispered, but within moments, Adolf Hitler was standing on the ropes, and he was addressing the arena.

"My fellow Germans," he called, "you can see something here tonight, can't you?" Bare-chested, victory-eyed, he pointed over at Max. "You can see that what we face is something far more sinister and powerful than we ever imagined. Can you see that?"

They answered. "Yes, Fuhrer."

Can you see that this enemy has found its ways -- its despicable ways -- through our armor, and that clearly, I cannot stand up here alone and fight him?" The words were visible. They dropped from his mouth like jewels. "Look at him! Take a good look." They looked. At the bloodied Max Vandenburg. "As we speak, he is plotting his way into your neighborhood. He's moving in next door. He's infesting you with his family and he's about to take you over. He --" Hitler glanced at him a moment, with disgust. "He will soon own you, until it is he who stands not at the counter of your grocery shop, but sits in the back, smoking his pipe. Before you know it, you'll be working for him at minimum wage while he can hardly walk from the weight in his pockets. Will you simply stand there and let him do this? Will you stand by as your leaders did in the past, when they gave your land to everybody else, when they sold your country for the price of a few signatures? Will you stand out there, powerless? Or" -- and now he stepped one rung higher -- "will you climb up into ths ring with me?"

Max shook. Horror stuttured in his stomach.

Adolf finished him. "Will you climb in here so that we can defeat this enemy together?"

In the basement of 33 Himmel Street, Max Vendenburg could feel the fists of an entire nation. One by one they climbed into the ring and beat him down. They made him bleed. They let him suffer. Millions of them..."

 The truth and horror of the Holocaust of the early 1900s.