by Donald Hunt
When night fell, word quickly spread that a general strike would begin the following morning. Working men and women felt that finally they had the power to shape their future. The strike succeeded in closing most of Berlin’s factories, stores, and public transportation. Electricity was lost in most of the city as more than 200,000 demonstrators surged through the streets. They seized rail stations, newspapers, and even controlled the Brandenburg Gate for a time. The attempted liberal coup was given the name Spartakus, and involved some 250,000 unemployed who were desperate and ready for change. Both liberal and conservative sympathizers took to the streets. Over the four-day strike and confrontation, the death toll approached 1,000. Unfortunately, the conflict would not be resolved without further violence.
Within 48 hours the Freikorps began hunting for Karl Liebknecht. He had vacated the street battleground and decided to go into hiding in the slum district of Neukolln. Mostly ignoring the ruin of the revolt he had started, he was informed his own wife and son had been arrested. Still, he chose to stay in hiding. The Freikorps intensified their search. From the second floor apartment window with curtains closed, Liebknecht was watching the patrols below. Soon they would be going door to door. On the night of January 14, he decided to flee to the middle class district of Wilmersdorf. A communist sympathizer offered his apartment and Liebknecht was joined there by two other fugitives, Rosa Luxemburg and Wilhelm Pieck, a communist party operative. Earlier Pieck had secured false identity papers for the two leaders to aid their escape effort.
The situation grew desperate and the three fugitives discussed their strategy. Liebknecht and Luxemburg were the main targets.
“We should move in the next 48 hours,” Rosa said in a hushed voice. “I feel we should go by auto because they’ll be watching the train stations.”
“I can be in contact tonight with someone who can get an auto,” said Pieck. “The identity papers we have are very authentic. The key is to get out of Berlin and get to the country-side.”
Liebknecht knew but did not say that he had great fear of the Freikorps. Rosa felt they would be sent to prison and the movement would be set back for as long as three to five years. Liebknecht feared they would not get to prison alive.
On the evening of the following day an informant notified the authorities of their location. Freikorps troops quickly surrounded the apartment and took them into custody. Freikorps headquarters had been set up in the Eden Hotel next to the Berlin Zoo. Liebknecht and Luxemburg were placed in separate rooms for ‘interrogation’. The beatings were severe. Of note, Wilhelm Pieck was kept in a hallway escaping harsh treatment. Colleagues later came to the conclusion that he was the informant who had given them up. The following day they were placed in separate cars for transport to Moabit Prison.
The first car carrying Liebknecht detoured to the Tiergarten and stopped in one of the dark by-ways. Stunned and bleeding, he was pushed from the auto and shot multiple times. It was later reported that he was shot while trying to escape. As for Rosa Luxemburg, she was riding in the back seat of the second car and was told she was being transported to prison to await prosecution. Instead, she was forced to bend over in the seat and was shot in the back of the head. Her body was dumped in the Landwehr Canal.
With their leaders murdered, the communists lost virtually all of the momentum they had seized in their attempt to gain control of the new Republic.
One week after the murders, 30 million Germans went to the polls. Political violence had become all too common and the voters welcomed the opportunity to confirm the democratic process. For millions of Germans, this squalid chapter of their history was being closed. Friedrich Ebert and the Social Democrats were given a solid majority. The man who had been the de facto president was now Germany’s duly elected Chief of State. With little formal training he faced the monumental task of trying to save this sinking ‘Ship of State.’ His country had no guiding paradigm. His mandate was to draft a constitution and establish a legitimate parliamentary government. A constitutional assembly would be held, but Berlin was still unsafe. Ebert decided to hold the assembly in Weimer, some 200 kilometers southwest of the capitol. The assembly convened in the National Theater where Franz Liszt had once conducted Wagner’s Lohengrin.
Ebert was overwhelmingly elected the first president of the new Republic, a formality of the assembly. Then the delegates began the task of considering the new constitution. A rough draft had been completed by Hugo Press, a liberal professor of law at the University of Berlin. It contained features borrowed from the American, British, and French constitutions. Specifically, the president would have broad powers and be elected by popular vote. Proportional representation would protect minority interests, and the provincial state governments would have a great deal of autonomy.
The delegates spent weeks debating every detail, from protection of local interests to a new design for the flag. The final draft was met with approval. But the document was flawed and would prove to be greatly beneficial to the Nazi cabal to come. The provincial autonomy would allow Hitler and his group to flourish in their early days in Bavaria. Article 48 specifically gave the German president the power to rule by decree. It was this provision that paved the road that Hitler would travel to become Chancellor in 1933. The genesis of the Nazi Third Reich was, to a great extent, made possible by a document which had been very carefully crafted by men who did not see how it could be used to take over their country.
The development of the Nazi oligarchy was almost exclusively a reflection of the decadent mind and machinations of Adolph Hitler. Cunning and deception served as a shield, masterfully covering his personal hatred and resentments which would, in time, codify into national policy. In Vienna, he had been influenced by the Mayor, Karl Lueger. His desire was to maintain a Catholic-German dominated monarchy. Anti- Semitism was central to this goal and Hitler was particularly intrigued by this strategy.
After the signing of the Armistice, Hitler began to analyze Germany’s defeat, and in his malevolent thought process, began to connect the defeat with covert plotting of Jewry. Well on his way to developing a hatred for Marxism as well, he then associated communists with Jews, something he called ‘the Jewish Doctrine of Marxism’. Much of the development of his rabid anti-Semitism was kept to himself. He became obsessed with the idea of an eternal struggle between two hostile forces. The ‘Aryan’ represented a wandering creative angelic force; ‘the Jew,’ a counter force he viewed as Satanic. The survival of the planet was hanging in the balance. In his paranoia he saw the Jews as being engaged in a conspiracy to achieve global domination. Reflecting on his earlier time in Vienna, he later would write:
“Vienna appeared to me in different light than before. Wherever I went, I began to see Jews, and the more I saw, the more sharply they became distinguished in my eyes from the rest of humanity. In a short time I was made more thoughtful than ever by my slowly rising insight into the type of activity carried on by the Jews in certain fields. Was there any form of filth or profligacy, particularly in cultural life, without at least one Jew involved in it? If you cut even cautiously into such an abscess, you found, like a maggot in a rotting body, often dazzled by the sudden light – a little Jew.”
Post war Munich was fertile soil for the nourishment of such perfidious ideas. An army political indoctrination course was a platform to develop his oratorical skills. Bavarian political life needed scrutiny and this became his first salaried job outside the military. He was attracted to one of the groups he was to monitor, and in September, 1919, he joined the German Worker’s Party (Deutsche Arbeiterpartic – DAP). By 1921, he had developed a significant influence with the membership. He was soon able to persuade the majority to abandon the committee-style leadership in favor of himself as ‘chairman.’ The DAP was also given a new name: The National Socialist German Worker’s Party (Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei – NSDAP). The final party name was an acronym for National and Sozialis
t – NAZI.
Hitler’s view of recent events was aggressively stressed at party meetings, namely that Germany’s defeat and economic problems were the result of international Jewry and Marxists. Most Germans were bitter about the Treaty of Versailles and angry with the resulting economic downturn. How quickly they had forgotten that they had supported the policies that had plunged their nation into a war of aggression. Now, just as quickly, they were buying into the deception about Jews and Marxists.
The new Nazi party quickly acquired a newspaper, then formed its own strong arm squad, the Storm Detachments or SA. By December 1923, the membership had grown to 55,000.
At year’s end, Hitler decided on a bold move and led an attempted coup in Munich. It failed and he and others were arrested and put on trial for treason. The trial and Hitler both drew national attention. He was convicted and given a five-year sentence of which he served only ten months. While in prison, he wrote most of Mein Kampf (my struggle), a narrative of his political awakening. The seeds of political hatred had been sown. Cultivation of those seeds would result in a cataclysm not experienced in the history of the world.
Chapter 6
Surgical Training
Anna was in a deep sleep when the phone call came. It rang six times before she could rouse herself enough to answer it.
“Dr. Eichenwald, you are needed in the VIP suite immediately,” said the operator uncharacteristically abrupt.
Anna glanced at her watch. It was 4:30 a.m. She still held a book in her hand, having fallen asleep after reading for half an hour. Momentarily disoriented, she opened her eyes, blinked several times to shake the sleep, then realized something unusual was happening. She had never been to the VIP suite. Located on the top floor of the hospital, most staff members had no access to it. The suite was reserved only for the very wealthy or those of high political position.
Anna went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. She grabbed her coat and bounded up four flights of stairs. There, on the seventh floor, was the VIP suite securely tucked behind two massive oak doors. She paused a moment wondering if she should knock, then entered trying to imagine why a first year surgical resident would be requested here. She immediately recognized Dr. Karl Scheidemann, president of the University of Berlin, and Dr. Hierholzer, chairman of the Department of Surgery, both standing at the end of the hall. She slowed her pace and searched for more familiar faces. She saw Gregor Schracht, chief surgical resident and met his eyes. He began walking in her direction.
“Hello, Anna,” he said. His face was stern. “President Ebert has been admitted to the hospital, and he’s dying.”
* * *
Charles Dawes was an American banker who frequently traveled to Germany. He was involved in an effort to rescue the German economy, having realized the potential for enormous investment profit if the inflation could be controlled. He had attended a reception for Professor Einstein in America in 1921 and had met Hanz Eichenwald. It was at that time he began to see what Germany could become.
Dawes’ plan was straightforward. He suggested fixing a reparation payment schedule at 2.5 billion marks per year. In addition, he proposed that all allied troops be removed from the Ruhr area. His plan was implemented in 1924 - the Dawes Plan for Economic Recovery.
During his weeks in Germany Dawes had been invited to the home of Hanz and Marlene Eichenwald. The other guests that evening included Albert Einstein and Max Planck. After dinner, the men retired to the library for cigars and brandy. Hanz and Max watched in amusement as Einstein questioned Dawes about international economics and Dawes questioned Einstein about relativity. Later, they agreed to a draw. But in reality, Einstein understood far more about economics than Dawes knew about relativity. In future years, Dawes would admit being pleased with the plan he had ‘master-minded.’ But his conversations would always come back to the event of what seemed to him, a magical evening spent with the famous Nobel Prize Laureate.
Whatever upswing the economy took, it did not improve the political fortune of President Ebert. The economic turmoil had brought out hostility from both the left and right. Ebert was attacked in the press and publicly accused of everything from treason to bribery. Rather than ignore the falsehoods, he became obsessed with defending his honor. Knowing none of the charges could be proven, he filed lawsuits for slander and mounted a campaign in his defense.
Late one evening after one of many stressful days, Ebert began having abdominal pain. The following morning he was examined by his personal physician and given a diagnosis of acute appendicitis. But Ebert refused to go to the hospital. “My honor is at stake,” he told his physician. “I cannot possibly leave my office.” His condition worsened by the day. Finally, he had no choice but to enter the hospital. By that time he had developed massive peritonitis for which there was no effective treatment. In the VIP suite, he was given IV fluids and morphine. Anna was told that a team of first year surgical house-officers would attend to Ebert, each working eight-hour shifts. She would assume the first.
Anna entered his room and saw Mrs. Ebert sitting in the corner. She was pale and drawn. “Good morning, Mrs. Ebert,” said Anna. “I’m so sorry about what you and your husband are going through.”
Ebert was 54-years old. He was an honest man, one who had never sought political power. But as is historically the case with some leaders, they are forced to step into such positions.
Anna noted Ebert’s blood pressure. It was barely audible at 90, and he was not responsive. She felt he was in septic shock. He died before Anna even completed her first shift.
The State Funeral was extravagant. He had, in fact, been loved by his people. Bands played and politicians gave eulogies, each hoping to get into the spotlight. Workmen wearing black armbands marched in mourning. Bewildered Germans nationwide were suddenly confronted with the fact that once again they had no leader.
The German constitution had not provided for a successor, a significant oversight. So an election was held with seven candidates but it did not produce a clear winner. A second election was to be held with new nominations. This time retired Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg was persuaded to run. He was 77 years old. In a bizarre turn of events, the Nazis abandoned their candidate for Hindenburg. Moderates supported ex- Chancellor Wilhelm Marx, and the communists stood behind their leader, Ernst Thalmann. Hindenburg won a close race over Marx. Had the communists joined the other left-center parties for Marx, Hindenburg would have been denied the Presidency and the opportunity to appoint Adolph Hitler as Chancellor - which he did in 1933.
* * *
Excitement was building for Erin Nitschmann. She had completed her graduate studies in May of 1927. Her mother and father had been on a second tour with the Philharmonic, this time for six weeks. They traveled to London, Brussels, Paris, Athens, and Monti Carlo. The Nitschmanns were about to arrive home at Central Station. Erin could hardly wait, her excitement doubled by the fact that she had a scheduled audition in a few weeks with the Berlin Symphony. She was vying for one of two positions as apprentice violinist and her father had been appointed as one of three examiners. Some 60 musicians had sent application from throughout Europe.
Erin had matured. She now had two degrees, one in violin and the other in music theory. When she saw her parents step out of their train car, she abandoned all self- composure and began running down the platform. She threw her arms around her parents.
They had hardly finished the formalities of reunion when Erin grabbed her parent’s hands and blurted out the news.
“Dr. Stoller has been enormously helpful in my preparation for the audition,” she said excitedly. “He’s been pushing me harder than usual.”
Ernst Stoller had been Erin’s instructor in advanced violin performance for the past year. Her father was a longtime friend of Stoller and was pleased Erin was working with a man of his stature. “So, how is it going?” he asked his daughter. “Are
you making any progress?” A broad smile came across her face.
“You’ll see for yourself, pops.”
The three walked together arm in arm as if they were barely touching the ground. The audition was in Symphony Hall. Each candidate was required to play a series of musical scores by sight, and then a series of compositions played back after hearing them only once. The third segment included performing a brief composition written by the candidate. Finally, each would perform the first movement of Beethoven’s Concerto for Violin in D major, Op. 61.
Erin had been working on her performance for the entire year. Her father, due to his relationship to Erin, would not take part in judging the competition. Her mother had been too nervous to stay in the hall so she waited in the foyer with Erin’s brother, Peter.
During the first segment, Erin’s technical skills reflected her solid instruction and preparation. Her composition was a light work which lasted only three minutes. She performed it beautifully. If one could have seen the music, one would have looked upon a dancing butterfly on a spring day.
The concluding piece, considered one of Beethoven’s finest, had first been performed on December 23, 1806, by Franz Clement, principal violinist of the Theater and dier Wien. The work was dedicated by Beethoven to the friend of his youth, Stephen von Breuning. The concerto had grown in popularity and was regarded as the touchstone of the violinist’s art.
Erin’s performance was a virtuoso. She played with an unusual degree of lyric expansion. In pure sound terms, this performance was unprecedented for an apprentice. A generating force was maintained throughout the movement, ending with mystery and suspense. The three examiners looked at each other in amazement. From his chair in the back of the hall, Erin’s father sat stunned. He could not believe what he had heard. He thought back to her fifth birthday, the day she received her first violin. The time had passed so quickly. She had been a little girl in pigtails. Now she sat poised, passionate in her performance. How could such a level of talent have evolved leaving him unaware, as though he had missed it?