Fear of Mirrors

by Tariq Ali

  Felix, too, knows that his father was killed by ‘our own people’ – that’s how you referred to them in Moscow, Freddy. Felix asks difficult questions and he wants answers. Yesterday he asked me casually: ‘Mutti, where did Stalin spring from then? Wasn’t he a close follower of Lenin?’

  I think Ludwik’s son will never become a professional revolutionary. He is filled with hatred for the people who killed his father.

  I wish you were here, Freddy. You and all the others. I need you. I miss you. I’m frightened for you. No one who ever worked with Ludwik is safe. Run, Freddy, run. Save yourself while you can.

  Lisa

  So, my son, you have lost one grandfather and gained another. I think Winter must be my father. Only that can explain how my name was not on the Stasi files. He must have made sure. If I had known that, I might not have told Helge and she would still be here and I would not feel so fragile or emotionally destabilized. I was stupid and cowardly, but not a criminal like your grandparents. As at other times, but in a more obsessive fashion, a blind force now drove me to meet up with Winter.

  Twenty-eight

  JULY 1945. Berlin was drenched in sunshine. Everywhere the wreckage of war. Hordes of women were clearing the rubble. Underneath it lay thousands of dead bodies. It had rained for the last two days and the appearance of the sun had brought with it the stench of decaying flesh.

  A group of newly arrived American officers was walking down the Ku-Damm, when one of them heard his name called.

  ‘Felix! Felix!’ The voice was loud and spoke Russian. ‘Can it be? Is it you?’

  The young American officer stared at the figure in a bedraggled Red Army uniform who was shouting his name from an open jeep. Felix had been told on arrival that a Red Army officer was searching for him, but he had pretended not to hear. He hated everything Soviet.

  Felix could not see him properly, but as the jeep drew closer, recognition dawned. It was Uncle Freddy’s son, Adam, his old school friend from Moscow days. Adam, a major in the Red Army, jumped out of his jeep. The two men embraced.

  Felix introduced him to his fellow officers, who were very impressed at their shy young colleague’s range of contacts. He arranged to meet them later, and was pushed into the jeep by Adam, who instructed the driver to take them back to his billet near the temporary barracks.

  They did not say much to each other in the jeep. The driver was instructed to go and find some food and drink and bring it back within an hour. Adam and Felix found a makeshift bench in the clearing outside the barracks.

  ‘Uncle Freddy?’

  ‘Dead.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Once they had killed your father, it was only a matter of time. We got your mother’s letter. Freddy wept like a child. He told my mother that he would never be taken alive. When they came to arrest him he jumped out of the window of his room. You know he worked on the top floor of the Fourth Department.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Survived. Fortunately for her, she had been separated from Freddy for many years. They questioned her about Freddy and Ludwik. She told them all she knew, which wasn’t much.’

  ‘You feel no bitterness, Adam?’

  ‘Bitterness?’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘I used to feel a burning hatred. When I first joined the Red Army I used to dream of killing Stalin. Really.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘The war changed everything. You know some of what we’ve been through. In my unit there were men whose entire families had died during the collectivization campaigns. There were officers, including a general, who were released from the camps because their skills were needed. They loathe Stalin and everything he represents. Like me. But we hated the Nazis even more. Freddy’s entire family, all my aunts and uncles and grandparents, were wiped out in the Babi Yar massacre: several hundred women, men and children of Jewish origin taken to the woods, forced to dig their own mass grave and shot dead. The Germans saw it as target practice. This wasn’t just the SS, but ordinary soldiers. Dehumanized monsters. It wasn’t just the Jews. The Germans treated all our people worse than animals.’

  ‘Is that why you let them rape and loot Berlin?’

  ‘Let them? Orders came from the very top. Stalin instructed the high command to encourage the men who had fought a hard war to “have a bit of fun”. His words. When the high command ordered a halt to the rapes they stopped. Our army is very disciplined. The logic was simple: they treated us like animals and in Berlin we showed them we were animals. The day we entered, there were households who flew the red flag. Women rushed out with their old Communist Party cards which they had hidden during the Nazi years. They showed them to us with tears in their eyes as they welcomed our units. Imagine the horror when Red Army soldiers raped them.’

  For some moments neither of them spoke. They had both heard their fathers talk of how the cataclysms of war might change everything. Existing mountains would be flattened and little hillocks rise to new heights. They had thought that this war would transform the world for the better just like its predecessor.

  As their faces began to grow familiar to each other once again, and disused memories stirred, they started to talk. Felix told Adam of how they had arrived in the United States with the help of friends in Paris, where they had stayed for several months after Ludwik’s assassination. Lisa had met Shmelka again, and later Trotsky’s son, Sedov, who had so much wanted to meet Ludwik. She had also met the writer Victor Serge. Each of them had helped the move to the United States.

  He described how in New York, Lisa had been interviewed by the intelligence services about Ludwik. She had told them that she knew nothing of his operational secrets, least of all where and how he had infiltrated Western agencies. They appeared to be satisfied. Felix himself had gone to school and graduated just in time to be conscripted.

  ‘When I told them that I spoke Russian, German, French and Polish, they assigned me to their Special Services unit, which is like the Fourth Department used to be. We provide military and political intelligence to the top brass.’

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘She’s on her way back to France. We have decided to live in Paris after I’m demobilized. I studied mathematics and want to return to it after this is all over. You?’

  ‘I was studying physics when the war started. I will return to Moscow University after all this is over and start again. Will you ever come to Moscow again, Felix?’

  ‘No. For me Moscow means murder, human beings swept away as if they were autumn leaves. No, I won’t return to Moscow.’

  ‘I understand. In this war we sacrificed many lives foolishly. Most of our generals have no respect for human life. Zhukov used soldiers as mine detectors! But I live in Moscow, too, Felix. And there are many others like me. We have no other country. Will you never come back? Not even for a short visit?’

  Felix shrugged his shoulders. ‘Ludwik always used to say there is no such thing as never because, like the world we live in, we too, are constantly in flux.’

  Lunch had now arrived. They feasted on stale black bread, tinned herrings and a bottle of vodka – nothing else. Better than what Adam had eaten last night: croquettes made of turnip greens, which tasted as if they had been stuffed with horse manure.

  It was the black bread that reminded Felix of his last visit to Moscow. Lisa and he had gone as a diversion, to make them think that Ludwik was as loyal as ever. He held back the tears. Seeing Adam had brought back painful memories. He remembered conversations between his parents and their friends. Talk would often turn to the Tsar and Stalin. They would compare notes on repression. Under the Tsar, it was generally agreed, they had been driven close together, there had developed a sense of solidarity and community. They had made sure that families of the prisoners sent to Siberia did not starve. In Siberia itself they had helped each other. But Stalinist terror had destroyed the basic bonds of human solidarity. People had become scared of their own shadows. They had grown accustomed to living in a void.
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br />   ‘Did Freddy tell you who betrayed Ludwik?’ Felix asked his friend.

  Adam nodded.

  ‘She’s here in Berlin. I found out through our network. I have her address here in my pocket. I walked outside her apartment block several times yesterday, but –’

  ‘What?’ roared Adam jumping up in a rage. ‘What are we waiting for?’ He began to drag Felix towards where the jeep was parked.

  ‘Stop, you madman,’ Felix protested. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To execute her,’ replied Adam. ‘To avenge our fathers. As a Soviet officer I have the authority to –’

  ‘She’s a pathetic woman, a tiny cog in the giant murder machine. She has a boy. But come with me. I have some questions to ask her and I need a witness.’

  In normal times, Adam would have requested permission from a superior, but he had fought hard to reach Berlin, and faith in authority was at its lowest ebb since Stalin’s accession to power. Senior Soviet officers were only too well aware of this phenomenon and rarely interfered.

  Felix guided his friend to the block. They found her alone. When Gertrude saw Felix, she became very agitated, turning her face away, trying to sink back into the corner of the room. Her hands began to tremble. She seemed to be having a fit. Felix looked at her and images of Ludwik flashed through his head. He gasped for air for a few seconds, as though he were suffocating. He felt as though he had plunged off a precipice. His jaws alone moved; his lips seemed still and white. His head was split by an anguished scream. He was benumbed. The blood drained away from his face. Adam saw the transformation in his friend and grabbed him by the arm.

  ‘Felix. What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill? Get him some water.’

  Felix regained his composure and saw the fear on her face.

  ‘I have a young son,’ she whimpered.

  ‘And we both had healthy fathers,’ replied Adam.

  ‘What are you going to do? Are you going to kill me?’ she pleaded with Felix.

  ‘I just want to ask you a few questions. I want the truth, Frau Meyer.’

  ‘If you lie,’ Adam interrupted, ‘I might just decide to –’

  Felix stopped him with a gesture.

  ‘Frau Meyer, you know who I am? Good. Why did you betray Ludwik to the killers?’

  Gertrude began to weep.

  ‘They threatened me. That didn’t work. Then they promised they would get my parents and Heiny, my little brother, out of Ravensbruck. I believed them. I never believed any of the rubbish they told me about Ludwik being a Gestapo agent, but I did believe they could save my parents. Spiegelglass said my parents and brother would be exchanged for some Germans Hitler really wanted.’

  ‘Were they?’ asked Felix.

  ‘No,’ replied Gertrude. ‘It was a trick.’

  Felix looked into her eyes, but Gertrude turned away. ‘I have a little boy, Felix. If it weren’t for him I’d kill myself and spare you the trouble. I would have done after Ludwik’s death, but I was pregnant…’

  ‘Enough,’ said Felix. ‘Tell me Frau Meyer, was it easy to kill him? Did he say anything to you? Your hairs were found in his hand.’

  She began to weep again.

  ‘Talk, you bitch,’ said Adam reaching for his revolver. He felt nothing for this woman, and would have shot her without a second thought. Gertrude understood that Felix was her protection. She fell on her knees before him.

  ‘I will never forget Ludwik’s face that evening as long as I live. He was angry with himself for having trusted me. I thought he was dead and bent down to kiss him when he grabbed me by the head and shouted “Traitor!” To the others he shouted “Long Live the World Revolution!” They pumped all their bullets into him after that, and at that stage I lost consciousness.’

  They left her apartment without looking at her again. As they were about to enter the jeep, they saw young Vlady with two Germans in Russian uniform being taken back to his mother. Both the men stood to attention and saluted Felix and Adam, who nodded curtly and started the engine.

  That night Felix started writing a long letter to Lisa in which he recounted the events of that day.

  … She stood in the doorway and watched us walk to the lift. Do you know, the lift was actually working in the block she’s living in. I saw her son – I’m sure it was him – as Adam and I were leaving. She is a pathetic creature, and I wasn’t tempted by the poison of revenge, not even for a second. It was horrible seeing her again, but it had to be done. Who knows what her real reasons were for betraying Papa. What she said didn’t completely ring true …

  But our day was not yet over. As we arrived back at Adam’s quarters and parked the jeep, a column of German prisoners, guarded by Red Army soldiers, was being returned to a temporary prison camp behind the barracks. They had spent a long, hard day clearing the rubble from the side streets. The sun was still out and the prisoners asked for and were given permission to sit on the grass for a few minutes. They looked gratefully at their captors. One of the guards threw them a packet of cigarettes, which were immediately shared out.

  We observed the scene in silence. They were walking past the prisoners when one of them stood up and looked at us in amazement.

  ‘Felix! Adam! Don’t you recognize me?’

  We stopped and looked at the man who had shouted our names. Who was this wretched-looking bearded figure in the torn uniform of a Luftwaffe pilot?

  ‘It’s me, Hans. Remember? We played chess a few years ago in Moscow.’

  Adam and I looked at each other. I rushed to Hans first and embraced him warmly. Adam followed suit. The guards had saluted Adam. He ordered them to release the prisoner into his custody. He hurriedly scribbled a receipt for Hans and the three of us walked away together.

  It was an odd sight. Three men, clearly friends, but wearing three different uniforms, one of them German.

  Adam insisted we return to his room. There we drank more vodka. I insisted that Hans shave off his stupid beard, and Adam provided the implements. After he had finished shaving I held the mirror up to his face. Hans began to weep. Adam hugged him.

  ‘We’re all the same now. It will be fine.’

  After Hans had calmed down he told us his story: ‘After the Hitler-Stalin pact, dozens of German Communists in Moscow were handed back to the Nazis. My mother was sent immediately to Ravensbruck. She was murdered by a Nazi doctor, purely for his amusement. I was sent to an orphanage where you automatically became a member of the Hitler Youth. They selected me for the Luftwaffe. I was a good pilot, so they sent me on bombing missions over Moscow and Leningrad, after which I would always dump the bombs over vacant fields before returning to base. I never identified Moscow with Stalin. If I had, it would have been easy to drop the bombs. For me Moscow was all of us and others like us. I often thought about you and my other friends. What happened to you, Felix? Why are you in American uniform?’

  Adam and I told him our stories. Each of us had lost a parent thanks to Stalin and Hitler. We looked at each other in silence, thinking of old times. Then Adam took Hans back to the prison camp. Both of us were determined to obtain his freedom.

  ‘If you can’t get him out, Adam,’ I told him, ‘I’ll have a try from my side.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Adam. ‘My general was in the Polish Party with Freddy and Ludwik. He’ll understand why Hans cannot remain a prisoner of war. But Hans, tell me something. Where will you live in a divided Germany?’

  Hans thought for a moment. ‘Germany is like a shell-shocked prostitute, not knowing who will take her next or how. She has been plundered, betrayed and sold out, first by Hitler and the fascists and now by the Allies. I wanted them to win, but I have no desire to live in any occupied country. I suppose I could go back to Dresden, where my father’s family used to live, but I don’t want to live under Stalin. On the other hand, I don’t think I could bear living in Munich.’

  ‘In that case you mustn’t,’ I said. ‘Come and live with us in Paris. I mean it – and my mother would b
e very pleased to see you.’

  Hans smiled. ‘Don’t forget I am a German. We bear the mark of the beast. It will take a long time for passions to cool.’

  I hope you agree with me, Mother. I know you will. Seeing Adam and Hans reminded me once again of all those we’ve lost forever. Ludwik, Freddy, Misha, Uncle Shmelka, killed in his New York hotel after his flight from Paris. The five young boys who had grown up together in the tiny Galician town of Pidvocholesk, all poisoned by water from the same well.

  Ever since Father’s death, I’ve been grieving and angry. Adam made me realize that I was not unique. But it was Hans who renewed my faith in humanity. Hans, whose father had been killed by Hitler and whose mother had been handed by Stalin to Hitler to perish in Ravensbruck. This same Hans had refused to bomb Soviet cities. If discovered he would have been executed without ceremony.

  Hans demonstrated that the good in us can never die. He proved that even when they put the gun in your hands and give you a good excuse to pull the trigger, you can still say no. Remember that poem Ludwik used to like: ‘They that have the power to hurt and will do none…’? I feel that Adam and I got through that test today.

  Twenty-nine

  A GREY APRIL DAY. The rain is coming down. It is nine o’clock on a Sunday morning. Berlin is half asleep. Vlady, still drowsy from a late night, staggers to the window and draws the curtains. It is definitely not a spring shower. The clouds are thick. It could be autumn. The relentless rain spreads gloom and melancholy.

  ‘I am not fit for anything any more,’ muttered Vlady to himself.

  After he had shaved he examined himself carefully and persuaded himself that he looked no older than he had ten years ago.

  Ever since he had read the file marked ‘Gertrude Meyer’, Vlady had felt himself sinking. After Winter’s revelations, he had thought nothing he learnt about his mother could surprise him, but the fact that she had actively participated in the killing of Ludwik had shaken him deeply. Depressed and despondent, Vlady felt his sorrows had multiplied. He was possessed by a feeling of alienation from everything. Sometimes he was overcome by savage desires; he wanted to disrupt his own life by an act of violence. He became morose and taciturn, someone his friends began to avoid.