The communists made an obvious mistake in their tactics. They had scattered small groups throughout the hall, but clumped most of the rest in the right rear of the hall. I recognized immediately that there was the center of unrest, and if anything was to be done, we first had to deal ruthlessly with it. Whenever the chair tried to open the meeting, a dark chap stood up on a stool and shouted “Point of Order!” Hundreds of others yelled the same after him.
If one takes from the mass their leader, or also their seducer, they are leaderless and easily controlled. Our tactic therefore was to silence this cowardly troublemaker at any cost. He felt secure back there, surrounded by his comrades. We tried to do this peacefully a few times. The chair shouted over the uproar: “There will be discussion afterward! But we determine the rules of order!”
That was an ineffective attempt at an unsuitable object. The screamer wanted to throw the meeting into confusion by his endless shouts and bring things to the boiling point. Then a general melee would result.
As our efforts to bring the meeting to order peacefully proved unsuccessful, I took the head of the defensive forces to the side, and immediately after groups of his men slipped through the thundering communist masses. Before the astonished and surprised Red Front troops realized what was happening, our comrades had hauled the troublemaker down from his stool and brought him through the raging crowd to the podium. That was unexpected, but what followed was no surprise. A beer glass flew through the air and crashed to the floor. That was the signal for the first major meeting hall battle. Chairs were broken and legs ripped from tables. Glasses and bottles suddenly appeared and all hell broke loose. The battle raged for ten minutes. Glasses, bottles, table and chair legs flew randomly through the air. A deafening roar rose; the red beast was set free and wanted its victims.
At first it looked as if we were lost. The communist attack was sudden and explosive, completely unexpected. But soon the S.A. and S.S. men distributed throughout the hall and in front of the platform recovered from their surprise and counterattacked with bold courage. It quickly became clear that although the Communist Party had masses behind it, these masses became cowards when faced with a firmly disciplined and determined opponent. They ran. In short order the red mob that had come to break up our meeting had been driven from the hall. The order that could not be secured by good will was gained by brute force.
Usually one is not aware of the stages of a meeting hall battle. Only later does one recall them. I still remember a scene that I will never forget; on the podium stood a young S.A. man whom I did not know. He was hurling his missiles into the on-coming red mob. Suddenly a beer glass thrown from the distance hit him on the head. A wide stream of blood ran down his face. He sank with a cry. After a few seconds he stood up again, grabbed water bottle from the table and threw it into the hall, where it clattered against the head of an opponent.
The face of this young man is engraved in my memory. This lightning-fast moment is unforgettable. This gravely-wounded S.A. man would soon, and indeed for all times, become my most reliable and loyal comrade.
Only after the red mob had been driven howling, growling and cursing from the field could one tell how serious and costly the battle had been. Ten lay in their blood on the platform, most with head injuries, two with severe concussions. The table and stairs to the platform were covered in blood. The whole hall resembled a field of ruins.
In the midst of this bloody and ruined wasteland, our tree-high S.A. leader resumed his place and declared with iron calm: “The meeting will continue. The speaker has the floor.”
Never before or since have I spoken under such dramatic conditions. Behind me, groaning in pain and bleeding, were seriously injured S.A. comrades. Around me were broken chair legs, shattered beer glasses and blood. The whole meeting was icily silent.
We lacked then a medical corps. Since we were in a proletarian district, we had to have our seriously wounded carried out by so-called worker volunteers. There were scenes outdoors of unimaginable inhumanity. The bestial people who were supposedly fighting for universal brotherhood insulted our poor and defenseless injured with phases like: “Isn’t that pig dead yet?”
Under such conditions it was impossible to give a coherent speech. Scarcely had I begun to speak when another group of volunteers entered the hall to carry off a seriously wounded S.A. man on a stretcher. One of them, encountering the brutal apostles of humanity outside the door and their unflattering and crude language, shouted for me in desperation. His voice could be heard loudly and unmistakably on the platform I interrupted my speech and went through the hall, where there were still scattered communist commando groups. Still surprised by what had happened, they stood quietly and shyly to the side. I bade farewell to the seriously wounded S.A. comrades.
At the end of my speech, I spoke for the first time of the unknown S.A. man.
An amusing and satisfying episode of this bloody battle should also be mentioned. When the discussion period was announced, a pathetic chap who claimed to be a member of the Young German Order stood up. He gave an emotional appeal for brotherhood and peace between the classes, and complained passionately about the useless immorality of all this bloodshed, and announced that only in unity was there strength. As he then bowed to the meeting and prepared to launch into a patriotic poem to conclude his noble nonsense, the crowd laughed loudly when an honest S.A. man made the appropriate interruption: “Shut up, you little birthday orator!”
*
That amusing intermezzo brought the battle of the Pharus Hall to an end. The police had cleared the street outside. The S.A. and S.S. left without any difficulty. A decisive day in the history of the National Socialist movement in Berlin was behind us.
Mimicry
Lead article from Das Reich magazine, July 20, 1941.
The Jews are masters at fitting in to their surroundings, without in any way changing their nature. They are mimics. They have a natural instinct that senses danger, and their drive for self-preservation usually gives them the proper ways and means to escape danger at no risk to their lives or any need for courage. It is difficult to detect their sly and slippery ways. One has to be an experienced student of the Jews to recognize what is happening. Their response when they have been uncovered is simple and primitive. It displays a perfidious shamelessness that is successful because one usually does not think it possible to be so shameless. Schopenauer once said that the Jew is the master of the lie. He is such an expert on twisting the truth that he can tell his innocent opponent the exact opposite of the truth even on the plainest matter in the world. He does this with such astonishing impudence that the listener becomes uncertain, at which point the Jew has usually won.
The Jews call this chutzpah. Chutzpah is a typically Jewish expression that really cannot be translated into any other language, since chutzpah is a concept found only among the Jews. Other languages have not needed to invent such a word, since they do not know the phenomenon. Basically, it means unlimited, impertinent, and unbelievable impudence and shamelessness.
As long as we had the doubtful pleasure of having to put up with Jews, we had more than enough examples of the typical Jewish characteristic they call chutzpah. Cowards became heroes and decent, industrious, and brave men became contemptible idiots or fools. Fat and sweaty stockbrokers presented themselves as communists saving the world, and decent soldiers were characterized as beasts. Normal families were mocked as breeding pens, while group marriages were praised as the highest form of human development. The most disgusting junk the human mind could create was presented as great art while real art was ridiculed as Kitsch. The murderer was not guilty, but rather his victim.
It was a system of public deception that, when applied long enough, lames a people both culturally and spiritually and over time strangles any kind of defense. Before National Socialism, Germany was in the midst of such deadly danger. Had our people not come to its senses at the last possible moment, our country would have been ripe for Bolshevism, t
he most devilish infection the Jews can bring upon a people.
Bolshevism, too, is an expression of Jewish chutzpah. Turbulent Jewish party leaders and clever Jewish capitalists managed the most shameless coup one can imagine. They mobilized the so-called proletariat to class struggle by ruthlessly exploiting real or imagined problems. Their goal was total Jewish domination. The crassest plutocracy used socialism to establish the crassest financial dictatorship. A world revolution was to expand this experiment from the Soviet Union to the rest of the world. The result would have been Jewish world domination.
The National Socialist revolution was a death blow to this attempt. Once international Jewry realized that agitation was no longer sufficient to take over the various European nations, they decided to wait for a war. They wanted it to last as long as possible, so that at its end they could institute Bolshevist terror and force on a weakened, drained and impotent Europe. This had been the goal of Moscow’s Bolshevists from the beginning of the war. They wanted to join in only when easy and safe victory was assured, meanwhile holding down sufficient German forces to keep Germany from a decisive victory in the West. One can imagine the howls of rage in the Kremlin as they realized one Sunday morning that the Führer’s sword had cut through their web of lies and intrigues.
Until then, the Jewish Bolshevist leaders had cleverly kept in the background, probably in the mistaken belief they could fool us. Litvinov [14] and Kaganovich [15] were hardly seen in public. Behind the scenes, however, they were about their dastardly work. They tried to persuade us that the Jewish Bolshevists in Moscow and the Jewish plutocrats in London and Washington were enemies. Secretly, however, they were planning to strangle us. That is proven by the fact that they made up with each other the moment their devilish game was revealed. The ignorant peoples on both sides who surely were astonished at such a sight were calmed down by tactful measures.
In Moscow, for example, the Jews abolished the Atheist Federation, even though it had been a matter of honor only a few days earlier for leading Soviet bigwigs to belong to it. Religious freedom was now guaranteed in the entire Soviet Union. Lying news items were spread in the world press announcing that praying was once more allowed in the churches, among other swindles. The English could not quite bring themselves to play the Internationale on the radio every night, since in Mr. Eden’s interesting distinction the Bolshevists were not allies, only fellow combatants. The Internationale would have been a bit too strong for the British people at the moment, but they are hard at work presenting Stalin as a great statesman and wonderful social reformer who can be compared only to Churchill. They are doing their best to find other similarities as well between the glorious democracies in Moscow and London.
Remarkably, they are not all that far from the truth in this regard. They look different only to those who do not know much. To experts, they are as alike as two peas in a pod. The same Jews are at work, whether on stage or behind the scenes. When they pray in Moscow and sing the Internationale in Moscow, they are doing what Jews have always done. They are practicing mimicry. They adjust to the conditions around them, slowly, step by step, so as not to unsettle or awaken others. They are angry at us for uncovering them. They know we recognize them for what they are. The Jew is secure only when he can remain hidden. He loses his balance when he senses that someone sees through him. The experienced Jewish expert immediately sees in the insults and complaints the familiar Old Testament outbursts of hate. They have come our way so often that they have lost every element of originality. They are only of psychological interest to us. We wait calmly until Jewish rage has reached its epitome. Then they start falling apart. They spout nonsense, and suddenly betray themselves
The material on Radio Moscow or Radio London and the articles that appear in the Bolshevist and plutocratic organs are simply indescribable. London always gives priority to Moscow, which allows it to preserve good manners and blend into the landscape. Moscow’s Jews invent lies and atrocities, the London Jews cite them and blend them into stories suitable for the innocent bourgeois. They do it only from professional obligation, naturally. The dreadful crimes in Lemberg[16] that horrified the entire world were, of course, not committed by the Bolshevists, but rather were an invention of the Propaganda Ministry.
It is quite irrelevant that German newsreels made the proof available to the entire world. Obviously we suppress the arts and sciences, whereas Bolshevism is a true center of culture, civilization and humanity. We personally were pleased at a recent statement by Radio Moscow. It was so absurd and despicable that it was almost flattering. We assume the Jewish speaker recalls the good old days in Berlin. Unless they have a very short memory, they must recall that all their insults will only lead to a thrashing at the end. Every evening they announce that they want punch our nose, us and all the other Nazi pigs. Sure, you want to, but doing it is something rather different, gentlemen! The whole affair has a certain tragicomic tone. The Jews talk as if they were really strong, but soon they have to move their tents and run like rabbits from the approaching German soldiers. Qui mange du juif, en meurt![17]
One could almost say that anyone with the Jews on his side has already lost. They are the best pillar of the coming defeat. They carry the seed of destruction. They hoped this war would bring the last desperate blow against National Socialist Germany and an awakening Europe. They will collapse. Already today we begin to hear the cries of the desperate and seduced peoples throughout the world:
“The Jews are guilty! The Jews are guilty!”
The court that will pronounce judgment on them will be fearful. We do not need to do anything ourselves. It will come because it must come.
Just as the fist of an awakened Germany has struck this racial filth, the fist of an awakened Europe will surely follow. Mimicry will not help the Jews then. They will have to face their accusers. The court of the nations will judge their oppressor.
Without pity or forgiveness, the blow will strike. The world enemy will fall, and Europe will have peace.
The Führer as a Speaker
Extract from Adolf Hitler. Bilder aus dem Leben des Führers (1936).
There are two fundamentally different kinds of speakers: those who use reasoning, and those who speak from the heart. They reach two different sorts of people, those who understand through reason, and those who understand through the heart. Speakers who aim for the reason are generally found in parliaments, those who speak from the heart speak to the people.
The speaker who uses reason, if he is to be effective, must command a wide range of statistical and factual material. He must be a master of dialectic as the pianist is master of the keyboard. With ice cold logic, he develops his line of thinking and draws irrefutable conclusions. He is most effective with people who work primarily or exclusively with reason. Big and compelling successes are denied him. He does not understand how to fire up the masses for a great cause. He is limited to educational discourse. Since he is cold, he leaves his listeners cold. At best he persuades people, but never mobilizes them and sets them marching regardless of their own ideas or the element of personal risk involved.
The speaker from the heart is different. He may have the skills of the master of reasoning. They are, however, only tools he uses as a true rhetorical virtuoso. He has abilities not found in the reasoning speaker. He combines clear diction with simple argumentation, and instinct tells him what to say and how to say it. Language is united with ideas. He knows the secret corners and aspects of the mass soul and knows how to reach and touch them. His speeches are masterpieces of declamation. He outlines people and conditions; he inscribes his theses on the tablet of the age; with deep and noble passion he explains the pillars of his world view. His voice reaches out from the depths of his blood into the depths of the souls of his listeners. He brings to expression the secrets of the human soul. He rouses the tired and lazy, fires up the indifferent and the doubting, turns cowards into men and weaklings into heroes.
These rhetorical geniuses are t
he drummers of fate. They begin their work alone in dark and dismal historical epochs and suddenly and unexpectedly find themselves in the spotlight of new developments. They are the speakers that make history.
As any great man, a gifted speaker has his individual style. He can only speak as he is. His words are written into his body. He speaks his own language, whether in posters or letters, essays, addresses or speeches.
There are many examples in history that prove that great speakers resemble each other only in their effects. The nature of their appeals to people, their appeals to the heart, vary with the time, the nation, and the character of the epoch. Caesar spoke differently to his legions than Frederick the Great did to his army, Napoleon differently to his guard than Bismarck did to the members of the Prussian Parliament. Each used language that his hearers understood and used words and thoughts that reached their emotions and found an echo in their hearts.The daemon of their era gave each the ability to speak in a way that raised them above his century as one of the eternal proclaimers of great ideas, one of those who makes history and transforms nations.
The various races seem to have differing abilities in this realm. Some seem too reserved to practice the art, others seem practically predestined to it. One speaks of Latin eloquence, for example. The wealth of average and important speakers in the Roman peoples is also some proof of this. It also seems true that rhetorical ability in these nations finds a public that understands it and gives it the widest possibility of success.
In the past, our German nation was not particularly gifted in this regard. We had more than enough statesmen and soldiers, philosophers and scientists, musicians and poets, builders and engineers, geniuses of planning and organization. But we always lacked those with rhetorical gifts. No one after Fichte’s classic speeches to the German people was able to reach the people’s hearts, until Bismarck. When Bismarck departed, no one followed until the collapse after the World War brought forth a new preacher. In between we had at best serviceable speakers, suitable for everyday or parliamentary use or service on boards of directors, but who encountered only icy reserve when they spoke to the people.
Europe in the Year 2000:: And Other Essays, including “The Art of Propaganda” Page 4