Dragon Harvest

by Upton Sinclair

  The room was paneled in dark wood, and had great doors leading out to the Chancellery park, now covered with snow. There was a fireplace with blazing logs, and over it one of the several Lenbach Bismarcks; near by was a statue of Frederick the Great, much larger than that little man’s life size. There were heavy draperies, thick rugs, and great chandeliers hanging from a high ceiling. On the desk were a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles, which the Führer put on when he wanted to read, but which he would not have worn on any public occasion for ten million marks.

  He wore a plain business suit and an agreeable smile. He arose and said: “Wilkommen, Herr Budd,” and led his guest to one of the big chairs in front of the fire. Lanny said: “Sie erwiesen mir eine grosse Ehre, mein Führer”—and then he waited, for royalty must be permitted to indicate what has caused it to summon a visitor.

  “You have been to America since I last saw you?” inquired the Führer of all the Germans.

  “Yes, Exzellenz; also in Britain and France.”

  “A most delightful profession, Herr Budd. I cannot think of anything I would like better than to travel over the world picking out masterpieces for great art collections.”

  “You would have been another Dr. Bode if you had taken up that duty.” It was a compliment of the sort which one Kunstsachverständiger would pay to another.

  “You know how to flatter me,” replied the Führer. The smile said that he accepted the compliment, but that a little was enough. After a moment the great man added: “Rudi tells me that you have talked with some of our friends in London and Paris.”

  So there was a lead; the Führer wanted to hear Lanny’s views of the international situation. Adi was in the position of a soldier who walks at night through a field which his enemies have sowed with deadly mines; every time he puts his foot down is a new decision; and if only someone had watched the sowing and made a map of the field! The Führer will listen gladly; but when he is through, he won’t be quite sure whether his informant really knows what he claims to know, and whether his map is accurately drawn; in the end the great man will decide to follow what he calls his “intuition,” putting his foot down and at the same time shutting his eyes.

  Talking about ruling-class opinion in London and Paris is a P.A.’s specialty. He has listened to conversations for hours at a time and for weeks and months on end, and with every sentence he stows away in his memory he is thinking: “This will interest Adi!” Then, of the next sentence: “This would tell him more than he ought to know!” A delicate question, which troubles Lanny’s conscience continually; in order to keep in favor with these high-up Nazis he has to bring them information which is worth while, and which time will prove to be right; but if he imparts secrets which help them too greatly, he may be defeating his own cause.

  What, in particular, was Lanny going to do about the war which he judged now to be inevitable? Was he going to help to bring it on, or to postpone it? At the time of the attack on Spain he had wanted war, because he knew that the dictators were not ready for it and would have had to back down. Now they had had nearly three years more in which to get ready, and they had been straining every resource to that end. The British and French were supposed to be doing the same, but their efforts were limited, partly by an uninformed public opinion, and partly by the fact that the ruling classes didn’t really want to fight Fascism, but on the contrary wanted a modified form of it in their own countries—just enough to hold down labor, without being so rough or so nasty as Mussolini and Hitler and Franco had been!

  III

  These attitudes were the subject of Lanny Budd’s discourse. He told about the banquet which Baron Schneider had given in his town house, who had attended and exactly what had been said. Adi was feminine in his interest in personalities—especially those from whom he expected to get something; he studied them with care and remembered everything about them. These leading French financiers were mere names to him and he wanted to know what they looked like, their family positions and business interests, and just how they could be approached. Several had sustained losses in the taking over of Skoda and other enterprises in Czechoslovakia; they were making a fuss about it, and Hitler, who was expecting to take over everything everywhere, was a stickler for the forms of legality, and was willing to pay bribes if they were not too big. “They should ask somebody in this country,” he said. “My businessmen don’t have any trouble in getting along with me. They are making three times as much money as they ever made in their lives before—and I mean that literally.”

  This was a matter of real importance; for this Budd playboy was going back among the enemy financiers, and what he told them would count. So Adi went into particulars. “When I took power, more than forty per cent of German enterprises were unable to pay any dividends at all; but today there isn’t a single one that isn’t paying. Before my coming, the average of all dividends paid was 2.8 per cent, whereas today it is well over six.”

  “Do you mind if I make note of that?”

  “Not at all, Herr Budd,” and Hitler repeated the figures while Lanny jotted them down. “You doubtless know Dr. Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach; he told me just the other day that the gross income of his steel business has increased more than seven times in the past six years, and is now well over half a billion marks. Or ask Kirdorf, honorary chairman of our steel cartel—he will tell you that last year he paid a five-per-cent dividend, and at the same time set aside for expansion of plant and as a reserve to cover depreciation a sum greater than the original capital of his corporation. We put our industry to work, Herr Budd—sometimes even faster than it likes.”

  “I understand you, Herr Reichskanzler,” said Lanny, responding to the great man’s smile.

  “Our enemies will tell you that it is because we are arming the country; but our answer is that we can turn the same energies to the ends of peace—any day they are willing to grant us our rights and let us enjoy a feeling of security.”

  “I am glad to have the exact figures, and will make good use of them. The men I have been telling you about are keenly aware of what you have achieved, and are not a little envious of it. That is particularly true of England, where they do not have the same hereditary suspicion of German accomplishments.”

  “Tell me frankly, Herr Budd—what in your judgment is the principal obstacle in the pathway to British-German understanding? I am sure I need not repeat that this is the goal I most desire to reach.”

  “At the moment, Exzellenz, it appears to be the question of Prague. Everywhere I tried to argue with people I would hear: ‘Yes, but he guaranteed the independence of Czechoslovakia and now he doesn’t intend to make good on it.’”

  “But when I guarantee the independence of a country, does that mean that I am guaranteeing its right to make ideological war upon me? I want peace on my eastern border; and what I find is that I have perpetual insults and humiliations, a policy of pinpricks with the sharp end of the pin always in my direction. I find the British and French press egging the Czechs on, supporting them in a propaganda war. If I object, I am told that this is what freedom of the press means. If I talk about underground Jewish influences, I am called a fanatic; but I think I know a rat when I see it, and especially when I feel it gnawing at the tips of my toes.”

  Lanny didn’t want to get Adi started on one of his rat hunts, which might last the rest of the afternoon; nor did he want to talk about the fate of Czechoslovakia, for he had counted that unhappy little country as already on its way down the boa-constrictor’s gullet, and had so reported to F.D.R. He hastened to say: “I can only report to you what I hear, Exzellenz. The second objection raised has to do with your intentions toward Poland.”

  “There again you have it, Herr Budd. They confront me with the same situation as existed in the Sudetenland; I am invited to see German citizens abused and deprived of their rights by an inferior and backward people, and if I protest, that constitutes me an aggressor and tyrant. I can only reply that the aggression was committed by th
e Versailles Diktat, and that I do not intend to rest until those lands having a majority of German population are returned to my Reich, where they belong and are determined to be.”

  “So I am accustomed to report, Herr Reichskanzler. And by the way, it may interest you to know that I have just returned from a visit to the so-called Corridor.”

  “Have you bought that property you spoke of?”

  “I went to have another look at it. At the moment it is not so cheerful, covered with snow, but a couple of months will make a difference, I assume.”

  “What is the size of the property?”

  “About twenty hectares. That isn’t much if you want to be a farmer, but it is enough for privacy, and to sustain a family. It belongs to a Polish gentleman who rode with a lance against your troops in the last war. I took occasion to sound him out on the present situation, and learned that he considers the Polish army fully prepared and ready to demonstrate itself the best in Europe.”

  “They do the Polish people a poor service who encourage them in such vain delusions. I am being patient and polite with the Poles, because I know that they are merely pawns, being used by stronger and more cunning powers. But if the only effect is to bring an increase of insults and humiliations, the blood-guilt will not be found on my hands.”

  “I am keeping my Polish lancer dancing on a string,” said the art expert, with one of his engaging smiles. “I have not told him that I wouldn’t consent to live in Poland, but I have hinted that I am concerned as to the immediate future.”

  “He may sow one more crop in Poland,” replied the Führer of the Germans; “but I think you may safely reckon that he will reap it in Germany. He has nothing to fear, for we are not robbers, and shall treat our Polish minority with even-handed justice—provided, of course, that they obey our laws and keep their mouths shut.”

  So that was that, and it seemed to a presidential agent well worth a motor ride to the Corridor and back.

  IV

  They talked for a while about the horror that lurked on the other side of Poland—so the Führer termed it. He said that one reason he did not want to quarrel with the poor pathetic Poles—die armen traurigen Polen—was that they had at least intelligence enough to hate the Bolsheviks and were, geographically and politically, a barrier against them. As tactfully as possible, Lanny led up to the fact that the statesmen of France and Britain were now disturbed by rumors of secret negotiations going on for some sort of understanding between Germany and Russia. The Führer burst out: “It is their guilty consciences! France herself has committed this crime against western civilization, and Britain has been dallying with the idea for years. Now they are terrified by the fear that I might shoot first.”

  “They are truly terrified, Herr Reichskanzler. They ask me the question: ‘Is this serious or is it a bluff?’ What do you wish me to tell them?”

  “Tell them that in the world of universal distrust which they have made it is impossible ever to know reality from bluff. What is bluff one day becomes by force of necessity a reality on the next. I am a simple man of the people, Herr Budd, and do not know the ways of these subtle diplomats. I say what I mean; and quite by accident I have made the discovery that this is the most effective form of diplomacy. Everybody is ready to believe that I mean anything in the world except what I say. Is not that an odd development?”

  “It has its humorous aspects, Exzellenz.”

  “Nun wohl, let them enjoy the humor if they can. I tell them that I am trying to defend western civilization from the foulest scourge that has appeared in modern history; and I invite them to help me. If they are willing to do it, all right, the world is safe; but if they are trying to sell out western civilization, and it is a question of who is going to collect the price, then let them tremble in their boots at the thought that I may collect ahead of them. As you say in your wild West, I will shoot more quickly than they.”

  “I am surprised to find you familiar with our American customs,” smiled Lanny.

  “You forget that I was brought up on the stories of Karl May. Did I fail to show you my Old Shatterhand collection at the Berghof?”

  “I heard about it, Herr Reichskanzler.”

  “I have a whole room filled with first editions and relics of that most delightful of romancers, who made your country live in my youthful imagination. From him I learned what a great part the Germans have played in the making of your culture; and it is one of the reasons why I am so anxious to preserve a friendship which ought never to have been broken by war. Have you read any of those books, Herr Budd?”

  “I have to admit that I had never heard of them until I had the honor of making your acquaintance, Exzellenz. Then I read several—because I wanted to understand your mind and the influences which had shaped it.” Lanny would have liked to add: “It struck me that the creator of Old Shatterhand had been reading about Cooper’s Leatherstocking.” But he knew that such a statement would have cast him into outer darkness. Instead, he remarked: “Speaking of the Berghof reminds me of Madame Zyszynski and the strange experiences we had with her. She is back on the Riviera now and quite well again. We tried some more experiments, with interesting results.”

  V

  This was a subject which interested the Führer greatly, but he didn’t want the fact to be known, for he had forbidden the occult arts in his Reich and couldn’t afford to break his own laws. Lanny assured him that he had kept the promise not to talk about the matter, but added: “I live in the hope that before long the investigation of the subconscious mind and its secrets may become as respectable as, for example, research into the nature of the atom. A few days ago I was telling Herr Hess about the work which is now being done at Duke University, in the state of North Carolina.”

  So Lanny talked for a while about “extrasensory perception” and “the psychokinetic effect,” and other phenomena with names long and impressive enough to be respectable even in a German university. Hitler remarked: “Perhaps I can arrange to have some of our authorities look into these matters; and perhaps in the summer you and I can try some of these experiments. I hope by that time to be free from the swarm of petty annoyances which have been burdening my mind of late. I am going to do my best to that end.”

  The son of Budd-Erling smiled one of his most winning smiles and remarked: “The rest of us await history, Exzellenz; you create it.” And after allowing a moment for this unction to permeate the dictatorial mind: “I wonder if Exzellenz is familiar with Napoleon’s profound saying, that ‘politics is fate.’”

  Hitler sat staring into the blazing log fire. It was a remark exactly to his taste, as Lanny knew well. “One of the greatest of minds,” he mused. “It is too bad that he was not a German and could not have had a fair chance to try out his political ideas.”

  Lanny had known the Führer of the Germans for a matter of nine years, and had made him the subject of close study. He understood that it is the fate of dictators to have to listen to flattery and to grow more susceptible to it. There are few who dare to say No in their presence, and it becomes less and less tolerable to them to hear that presumptuous word. Just as Lanny had observed Adi’s cheeks growing a little rounder and his bulbous nose a little fatter, so he had observed the great man’s satisfaction with himself growing a little more naïve and obvious at each visit. And how could it be otherwise? When everybody else in his country considered him a worker of miracles, why should he be the one to disbelieve them?

  Lanny thought it safe to say: “Napoleon began his career a century and a half ago, Herr Reichskanzler, and mankind has learned a lot in that time. I really believe it is going to be possible for a second ‘little corporal’ to achieve what the first one dreamed—that is to say, the unifying of Europe.”

  The second little corporal took it just as Lanny had expected—that is, as a matter of course. “You, Herr Budd, are able to see my career in its large outlines, and possibly you do not realize how much easier that is for you than for me. To a man of great affair
s life too often takes the aspect of a series of treacheries of his foes and stupidities of his followers. Such a man’s life is like groping in the dark along an unknown path, beset with traps and broken by precipices.”

  “All life is like that, Exzellenz; and the great man is the one who knows his way and keeps to it. Now and then comes a flash of lightning which makes it plain to all the world: the Rhineland, the Anschluss, Munich—and what next?”

  “What next proved to be a series of miserable intrigues, of futilities and insults and humiliations which make me feel that what the world calls my latest victory was in reality my first defeat. I took your advice, you remember; I waited, I played safe, I compromised—and what do I see? My opponents have decided that I am a weakling, that I do not mean what I say, that I can be bluffed and made into a mockery. Czechoslovakia, that nest of many kinds of vermin with which I am supposed to be at peace—to enjoy having them buzzing under my bed and to find them wriggling in my dinner plate! Do you know about these wretched ‘patriots’ with whom I have to deal, and the Slovakian and Ruthenian and Carpatho-Ukrainian and what-not politicians to whose idiotic gabble I have to listen and whose treacherous plots I have to thwart?”

  “Yes, Exzellenz,” replied Lanny, meekly, “I read your press and I listen to your radio.”

  VI

  The son of Budd-Erling knew that he was to blame in Adi’s eyes, and he took the attitude of a schoolboy confronted by a master with an upraised ruler. He was prepared to have his knuckles well cracked; but he was saved at the critical moment by one of those coincidences which cause people to speculate about the possibility of extrasensory perception. The far-distant entrance door was opened and a decorous, black-clad secretary entered, very timidly, as if he were not sure of his reception and was prepared to take flight at the least hint of hostility. The Führer turned and looked, then waited; thus encouraged the man came quickly, almost on the run across the great room.