The Plots Against Hitler

by Danny Orbach

  One of the visitors was Stauffenberg’s uncle Count Nikolaus von Üxküll, known in family circles simply as Uncle Nux. A German aristocrat from the older generation, Nux was leading a battalion of Azeri volunteers in Russia. At the time, Stauffenberg didn’t know that his uncle was a member of the anti-Nazi conspiracy, or that his involvement went back to 1938. Üxküll, like many others, had supported Hitler in 1933, but his eyes had since been opened by military crimes and military folly. To save Germany’s good name in the world, he believed, Hitler must be removed. And that was the real reason for his visit to the hospital. He came to see Claus not only as his uncle but also to represent the conspirators.

  Like his coconspirators, Üxküll was deeply anxious. After Oster’s demise, the resistance cell in the Abwehr had been broken. But because it was organized in a structure of connected cliques (see chapter 11), the network had not been fully destroyed. Tresckow’s group in the east, for example, was still functioning, but the temporary arrests of Kaiser and Schulenburg indicated that one small mistake could lead to Oster’s fate being shared by Tresckow and everyone else. The structure of connected cliques was especially vulnerable: one lethal strike on the brokers, Kaiser and Schlabrendorff, and the whole network could collapse.

  The biggest immediate concern, though, was the center. Beck was old, tired, and unhealthy. He could lead discussions, advise, and help, but could not serve as a military planner and connector between the center and the periphery. A younger officer with greater energy was required for that. Indeed, once Oster could no longer fulfill that role, Tresckow came to Berlin to take charge. But his presence at the center was likely to be only temporary, as he could be recalled to the front at any moment. Thus, a hole opened at the center of the network.55 Üxküll tried to convince his fellow conspirators that his nephew Stauffenberg was the right man to fill it. This plan verged on the foolhardy and was probably accepted only because the group had no other good options.

  Stauffenberg listened attentively to Uncle Nux. At first, he refused to commit himself and told his uncle he needed more time to think about it. But by Üxküll’s second visit, a few days later, his mind was made up. “If the generals have not achieved anything,” he told his uncle, “it is time for the colonels to get involved.” Nina was also notified. “It is time for me to save the German Reich,” he said to her, adding that, as an officer of the General Staff, he had to take responsibility.56 He understood that radical measures must be taken. “The struggle against National Socialism, with its fanatical goals and theories,” he told his confidant Joachim Kuhn, “could be done only one way: by eliminating Hitler and the men around him.”57

  First, though, Stauffenberg had to recover. He spent a few quiet months convalescing with his family in Bamberg, during which time he learned to dress using his remaining hand and teeth and practiced writing with his left hand every day. He could not take up his most cherished hobby again: the cello was beyond him. Uncle Nux took upon himself a new duty. From now on, he would take care of Stauffenberg: “Any chance, be it the slightest, that our conspiracy still has, opened only with Claus’s arrival. He is our life and soul. He gave form to our efforts all throughout these years. Now he is the finger on the trigger. I am an old man, and see my main duty in taking care of Claus . . . I believe I can do something useful by taking care of his physical needs, helping him, for example, in the bathroom, or to get dressed. It is unbelievable that one person can carry such a heavy weight.”58

  And indeed, “finger on the trigger” and “one person” are the key phrases here. As the new leader, the compelling Stauffenberg changed the resistance beyond recognition. The time had come for the last major shift in the conspiracy: the charismatic turn.

  16

  Thou Shalt Kill:

  The Problem of Tyrannicide

  It must be by his death, and, for my part,

  I know no personal cause to spurn at him . . .

  And therefore think him as a serpent’s egg

  Which hatch’d would as his kind grow mischievous,

  And kill him in the shell.

  —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Julius Caesar, Act 2, Scene 1

  WHEN STAUFFENBERG TOOK charge of the German resistance, in late 1943, it had become clear to most members of the inner circle that Hitler must die. Yet the decision to assassinate him—the sovereign leader to whom an oath had been sworn—was difficult for most, tortuous for some, and almost impossible for others.1 This decision, as we shall see, was not only a consequence of inner developments of this or that conspirator but also a group decision and, as such, was subject to the influence of network dynamics and structural constraints.

  Even in 1943, consensus had not yet been reached on the assassination attempt. Dr. Carl Goerdeler; Count Helmuth James von Moltke; many members of the Kreisau Circle; and even Lt. Werner von Haeften, Stauffenberg’s right-hand man in the July 20 assassination plot, all strongly opposed assassination on moral or practical grounds, or both. Goerdeler’s position, as the civilian leader of the movement and prospective chancellor, was especially influential. He rejected assassination mainly on moral grounds, and proposed instead the so-called western solution: a joint action of the Wehrmacht leaders in the west against Hitler, leading prospectively to his arrest and trial.2

  Even as late as 1942, Ulrich von Hassell continued to prefer Goerdeler’s western solution over assassination.3 Beck presumably held the same view for a relatively long time, as he did not want to make Hitler a martyr, but he changed his mind around January 1942. His reasons were practical: as long as Hitler was alive, all commanders would be bound by his charisma. Nicholas Reynolds has also suggested that the war crimes of the regime were one of Beck’s motives. His observation is supported by a document written in 1944, coauthored by Beck, stating that the “crimes taking place behind the army’s back” constituted the “most important” motive for the coup, and presumably also for the assassination.4

  In January 1942, though, Beck’s endorsement of the assassination was still equivocal. Instead, he chose a typical solution of compromise. The plan, he told the members of the inner circle, was still to arrest Hitler, as before, but “in case of failure” the Führer would “fall victim to a terrorist act.” This decision was originally a part of an unrealistic plot employing a retired “panzer general,” most probably Hoepner, to storm Hitler’s headquarters with tanks.5 Beck’s basic decision, though, was much more important than the abortive plan to which it was related. By deciding to kill Hitler “if all else fails,” Beck was trying to have it both ways: supporting the killing of Hitler, on the one hand, and giving due respect to the opposing voices, on the other. As it was all but impossible to arrest Hitler in early 1942, the logical implications of the plan were clear to everyone. Col. Hans Crome testified about the meeting to his Soviet interrogators. At the end of January 1942, he said, there was a conspiratorial meeting in Dr. Jessen’s abode. Oster was appointed by Beck to plot the assassination, because his position in the Abwehr gave him access to explosives and knowledge of Hitler’s security arrangements.6

  According to Beck’s biographers Klaus-Jürgen Müller and Nicholas Reynolds, a year later, in February 1943, the leader of the resistance was already past any moral or ethical qualms about assassination.7 Kaiser’s diary also indicates that Beck fully supported Tresckow’s attempt to kill Hitler.8

  It was even clearer to the younger officers of the resistance that Hitler must die. As has been mentioned, Stauffenberg had expressed his wish that someone would “shoot the dirty fink” in late 1942. Tresckow and Gersdorff likened it to an act of self-defense—a slaying of a mad dog. “Hitler is the source of all misery,” Tresckow told Kaiser, according to the latter’s diary.9 Therefore, he had to be removed. It is notable that these three young officers—Tresckow, Gersdorff, and Stauffenberg—advocated assassination with the simultaneous resolution to participate in a coup d’état. For them, killing Hitler was an integral, self-evident part of the revolt. The assassination plan, accepted by o
nly a small minority in 1938 and pushed, by Beck, through the back door in January 1942, had become the appropriate course of action in the view of most leaders by winter 1943.

  This sea change was related not only to the inner convictions of the conspirators but also to their dynamics as a group and to the shifting structure of their networks. In 1938, only a few conspirators had endorsed assassination. The reason was clear: at that time, they still had a chance to win over Halder, and maybe even Brauchitsch. The possibility, however theoretical, of having the entire armed forces at their disposal was favorably received by the majority of the resistance members. Why not arrest Hitler and try him before a German court? At that time, only a few had seen assassination as necessary.

  Once the war had begun, however, the chance to win over Halder and Brauchitsch to the conspiracy became ever smaller. Thus, around 1942, the basic strategy had undergone a dramatic shift: now it was to confront the senior generals with an assassination planned and carried out independently, without the assistance of high-ranking officers. That decision was part of the strategy underlying the “connected cliques” of Tresckow, Kaiser, Oster, and Schlabrendorff.

  The fact that young officers such as Tresckow, Gersdorff, and Stauffenberg, who had begun to resist Hitler around 1942, became enthusiastic supporters of assassination makes sense when perceived within the context of the networks in which they worked. To arrest Hitler, one needed ample power right at the center: members of the high command with constant access to Hitler and enough troops to arrest him. The conspirators had no such men, and, as Tresckow observed, under the frantic conditions of the war, the chances to arrest Hitler and hold him captive were nearly nonexistent.10 However, the connected cliques had the ability to plan assassinations. They had access to bombs through contacts in the Abwehr, willing assassins at the eastern front, and, once in a while, access to the Führer during his visits to the front line. The 1938 Berlin clique, concentrated near Hitler at the center, theoretically could either arrest the dictator (through Halder) or assassinate him (using Heinz’s shock troops). The scattered cliques of 1942, however, could not arrest Hitler—only kill him. Given that fact, opting for assassination made sense. Ringleaders who continued to oppose the assassination were veterans of the resistance—people stuck in the bygone world of 1938; the possibility of getting rid of Hitler bloodlessly, through a “legal revolution,” lingered in their minds.

  Still, the changing external conditions affected even the staunchest opponents of assassination; one by one, they were carried with the stream of dominant opinion. Take, for example, Dr. Carl Goerdeler. This highly moralistic man, who could never separate ethics from realpolitik, formally remained opposed to assassination up to the attempted coup of July 20, 1944. A coup destined to bring about a moral regeneration of Germany should not begin with the violation of the divine commandment “Thou shalt not kill.”11 The alternative espoused by Goerdeler was usually the western solution, and he kept on proposing it until almost 1944, well after it became clear that it was a pipe dream. This “solution,” no doubt, was nothing more than an anachronistic attempt to enliven the plan of September 1938, which Goerdeler still remembered. And yet, Goerdeler’s position was much more ambiguous than is usually recognized, as the National Socialist People’s Court later observed: “Goerdeler countered time and again with the argument that one had to give him the opportunity to challenge Hitler openly on the radio, instead of treading the path of murder. Even if it was so, he could not distance himself from the murderous conspiracy . . . The political fruit of murder—power—he still wanted to pick and enjoy.”12

  The People’s Court was right on the mark. Kaiser wrote of Goerdeler in his diary on January 18, 1943, that he “does not want to wait any longer. Not to lose even one day. But to move as soon as possible. We cannot expect the field marshals to take the initiative. They are waiting for orders.”13 The former lord mayor of Leipzig might have opposed the assassination, but when his arguments were rejected, he kept on working with the conspirators and even urged them to move faster, knowing full well the direction the movement had taken. His opposition to the assassination was therefore more formal than real, an attempt to keep the moral high ground while allowing reality to take its course. Goerdeler’s position could be likened to that of a legislator who votes against an unpopular but necessary plan, knowing that his or her vote will not change the outcome. In Goerdeler’s role as a civilian leader, his opposition to the assassination was meaningless unless he left the conspiracy altogether. Lt. Werner von Haeften, no less opposed to assassination than Goerdeler, had to abandon his qualms and actively support it, because his position in the network (as Stauffenberg’s adjutant) did not allow him to do otherwise.

  The shift from unrelenting, conscious rejection of murder to tacit support also occurred in the Kreisau Circle. Some of the members, such as Leber and Schulenburg, were consistent supporters of the assassination from the outset. Others, such as Yorck, began to support it at around the same time as Beck. Some never gave their support.14 More interesting, and more ambiguous, was the position of the circle’s founder, Count Helmuth James von Moltke. He initially opposed not only the assassination but also the coup d’état. “You do not have anyone who could do it right,” he wrote, “and it won’t help anyway. Everything’s too far gone, and so horrendous. You can’t change anything. We have to leave it to the Allies, whether you want to or not.”15 The only solution, according to Moltke’s view, was to help the persecuted and the Allies (“We are ready to help you to win both the war and the peace,” he wrote to one of his British friends) and, most importantly, to carefully plan the future of post-Nazi Germany, as the Kreisau Circle had done. Stauffenberg, practical to the core, became furious with this high-handed approach. “I can’t stand that fellow Helmuth Moltke,” he snapped after an especially irritating meeting with the leader of the Kreisau Circle.16

  Still, just like Goerdeler, Moltke kept on working with the conspirators, though he despised the practical political work of the conspiracy—“Goerdeler’s trash,” as he disdainfully called it. Deeply involved in practice, and not only in drafting plans for postwar Germany, Moltke was very active in the negotiations between the conspirators and the British. His letters indicate that he also became involved in the preparations for the coup, a course of action that distressed him greatly. Moltke abhorred violence, even conspiratorial political violence, throughout his life. In the last days before his arrest, in late 1943, he felt that he was being dragged forward reluctantly. In a way, his arrest “saved” him. “I was and am still uninvolved in violence of any sort,” he wrote to his wife; but that was not a disavowal of the coup, as it is usually interpreted, only an expression of personal relief that he had been saved from involvement.17 The stories of both Moltke and Goerdeler show that when the circumstances and the structure of networks dictate a strategy of assassination, those who oppose it may continue to do so as long as their network position allows them not to become involved. As circumstances change, they find themselves dragged in sooner or later.

  Although people are greatly influenced by external circumstances, constraints, and group dynamics, personal views still determine, to some extent, whether somebody wavers in supporting the group decision or commits to it entirely. The strong religious faith of many conspirators pushed them into endless struggles with ethical and religious dilemmas involved in the attempted assassination of Hitler. In this regard, the dialogue between Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran pastor and spiritual authority in the resistance circles, and Stauffenberg’s adjutant Lt. Werner von Haeften is particularly enlightening. Bonhoeffer, who wrote extensively, using veiled language, on the question of violent opposition in his book Ethics, believed that political assassination counted as murder. Thus, the assassins had to accept the guilt for taking the tyrant’s life. But in situations such as in Nazi Germany, when Hitler’s government not only killed millions but also threatened the survival of the nation and the core of its Christian values, the co
nspirators might have to take guilt upon themselves for the sake of others. By responsibly taking guilt upon himself, Bonhoeffer argues, the Christian does not betray Christ but emulates him. Christ, after all, was sinless yet nevertheless consented to take all the guilt of humanity upon himself.18

  This is indeed a paradox, as Bonhoeffer himself was the first to recognize. In the complexities of reality, we do not have an objective, universally accepted set of rules. Assassins have to make their own choice, and all options are problematic. “Responsible action,” wrote Bonhoeffer, “takes place in the sphere of relativity, completely shrouded in the twilight that the historical situation casts upon good and evil. It takes place in the midst of the countless perspectives from which every phenomenon is seen. Responsible action must decide not simply between right and wrong, good and evil, but between right and right, wrong and wrong.”19

  Around November 1942, Lt. Werner von Haeften visited Bonhoeffer at his home to ask about the legitimacy of tyrannicide. Bonhoeffer gave him a very unusual answer, which may have left the young lieutenant more confused than before. A friend of his later recounted the scene:

  “The shooting itself would have no significance,” said Bonhoeffer, “unless it brings about a change in the circumstances. The elimination of Hitler alone will not suffice—things can turn out to be much worse. The role of the resistance fighter is so difficult because he must meticulously prepare for the aftermath. After the assassination there must be a group ready to take power immediately.” Haeften was not satisfied yet. For him [the discussion] was too theoretical . . . “Should I? May I?” he asked. Bonhoeffer explained that he could not decide for him. While it is true that he would have to bear the guilt for not using the opportunity, he may also be guilty in acting recklessly. No one can escape such a situation without guilt. But, and this was Bonhoeffer’s comfort, guilt is always the guilt born by Christ.20