My Battle Against Hitler Read online

  In January, three related articles of mine appeared that in a fundamental way rebutted the Nazi ideology.1 They formed a kind of triptych. The first article addressed the way Nazi ideology inverts the hierarchy of being by exalting the biological over the spiritual. I no longer recall the second article. The third, entitled “The Slave Revolt Against the Spirit,” was the most important, and it was here that I also criticized racism. Soon thereafter another essay of mine appeared called “Ceterum censeo Carthaginem,”2 in which I fought against all attempts to indulge in illusions about Nazism, and against all the wishful thinking that comes to expression in phrases such as “all revolutions initially undergo growing pains.”

  Klaus Dohrn had formed a very important and fruitful relationship with Morreale,*1 the Italian press secretary in Vienna. Despite being a Fascist and a special confidant of Mussolini, this man was a resolute and unambiguous opponent of Nazism. For this reason, he showed great interest in our journal. As the confidant of Mussolini, he was politically more important than the ambassador, who had a more social role. Morreale was a very intelligent and likeable person.

  I initially had my qualms and reservations about him, since I saw my battle against Nazism as encompassing the battle against all forms of collectivism. Thus I also wanted our journal to criticize fascist tendencies of any sort. But Klaus exercised much better judgment here. His great political talent preserved him from being too doctrinaire. He recognized that Morreale was a man worth talking to and an important ally in our battle against Nazism.

  I think it was also this month that Senator Pant,*2 the leader of the Germans in Polish Upper Silesia, came to visit me with Maier-Hultschin,*3 the editor of his journal. Pant was a defender of the cultural rights of the German minority in Upper Silesia; at the same time he was a loyal citizen of the new Poland. Above all, however, he was an ardent opponent of the Nazi regime and a pious Catholic. Of course, he could not be arrested in Poland and thrown into a concentration camp, but the Nazi regime, using money and covert activities, tried to mobilize the Polish Germans against Pant. We understood each other superbly, and he invited me to Katowice in April to give lectures, and I happily accepted. Pant’s roots were in the “old Austria.”

  Years earlier, Pant had very much liked Hitler’s sister,*4 who was then living with Hitler. I mean he had courted her, though I no longer know how serious he was and whether he really wanted to marry her. In any case, he knew her very well and was therefore very knowledgeable about Hitler’s youth and family. For this reason alone it was very interesting to speak with him, since I learned things that were not generally known. We also spoke about the very sinister incident of Hitler and his niece.*5 The niece was the daughter of Hitler’s sister, Pant’s former girlfriend. I had probably been vaguely aware that Hitler had had an affair with this niece and that she had suddenly taken her own life. Pant doubted that she had really committed suicide, suspecting that Hitler had killed her or had her killed.

  Pant was often in Vienna during the years I lived there. Once, not long after I had met him—perhaps half a year or even a year—Pant saw Hitler’s sister in Vienna, or somewhere in Austria anyway. He learned a great deal about the death of the niece on that occasion. Pant accompanied Hitler’s sister to the cemetery where her daughter’s grave was located. As they approached the grave, she was filled with deep emotion. Pant said to her, “How terribly sad that this girl, who was so young, would take her life. It’s incomprehensible.” Through her tears, Hitler’s sister answered, “But it isn’t even true. She didn’t take her own life. She was murdered.…” She was cut short by her sobbing. Yet from what she had stammered through her tears, Pant came away with the definite impression that Hitler had arranged to have his niece killed, or even done so himself.

  Following the death of the niece (which must have been prior to 1930), there was a murder charge lodged against Hitler with the Bavarian Ministry of Justice—though I no longer recall whether Pant told me this at the time. This charge was then dismissed by then-Bavarian Justice Minister Gürtner.*6 For this Gürtner was rewarded after Hitler’s seizure of power by being appointed Justice Minister in Hitler’s cabinet—meaning he became Justice Minister of the Reich.

  Senator Pant occupied a most unusual position insofar as he was a champion of German culture in Upper Silesia, while at the same time being one of the most resolute, uncompromising, and courageous opponents of National Socialism. This was of course an inherently very logical and consistent stance, for National Socialism was the greatest antithesis to all that was truly great in German culture. Yet for a person who had led an intense struggle against the Polish nationalists in Katowice, it was particularly commendable that he was able to see through National Socialism, which presented itself as the defender of the German national interest, and to reject it at its very foundations.

  For it is all too easy for people focused on a danger in one direction, and who are fighting against this danger, to become blind to greater dangers in the other direction. This was the tragedy of the initial stance of England and France toward Hitler—especially England before Hitler came to power. This tragic blindness was even more prevalent among many Hungarian nationalists, particularly in the case of figures like Monsignor Tiso.*7 Yet this is precisely why Pant’s stance was so welcome and so commendable. He was simply a very pious Catholic and a very intelligent and courageous man. Pant introduced us to the leaders of the German minorities in Latvia and Livonia who were in Vienna at that time. Both had fled after Soviet Russia had occupied the entire Baltic region, and both were resolute opponents of National Socialism.

  In mid-February, fighting broke out in Linz between members of the Heimwehr, the militia associated with the Christian Social Party, which by then had been merged into Chancellor Dollfuss’ Patriotic Front, and members of the banned Republican Protection League, the militia of the Social Democratic Party. Dollfuss’ government had received information that the Protection League had a large cache of weapons in Linz. The police sent to search the premises were fired upon and counterattacked.

  The conflict quickly spread across Austria, with the worst fighting taking place in Vienna. Dollfuss eventually called upon the army, which suppressed the revolt in four days. The fighting was especially bitter, the culmination of years of hostility between different factions in Austrian society. By 1934, tensions were at a peak. The Austrian civil war left 196 dead among the Social Democrats, and 118 on the side of the government.

  How is it that people who were opponents of National Socialism could allow themselves to play into Hitler’s hands through such an uprising? In the face of such a dreadful and threatening enemy like Hitler, why could they not set aside all internal opposition to Dollfuss? How could they not understand that unity at this moment was indispensable for successfully resisting Nazi Germany? For all these reasons, it was unforgivably shortsighted and politically obstinate of the Socialists not to stand with the government of Dollfuss in fending off a very great and imminent danger.

  But to engage in an armed revolt was far worse. It was a crime. What more could Hitler have wished for than a revolution in Austria which would give him the excuse to march across the border on the grounds that he could not tolerate a revolution so close to Germany? Apparently the Austrian government had learned of Hitler’s intent and so was prepared. The claim also spread at the time that in Linz the Heimwehr (which was very embittered toward the Social Democrats, and vice versa) had provoked the Social Democrats. It can hardly be denied that the Heimwehr, especially Major Fey*8 approached political questions in a fairly confrontational manner. The Heimwehr was also irresponsible.

  But none of this can excuse the revolt by the Social Democrats. For no amount of internal tension, no degree of partisan antipathy, could justify radically jeopardizing the freedom and independence of Austria, which was also self-destructive for the Social Democratic Party.

  Thank God the army remained dependable, which was to the credit of Vaugoin,*9 who had served as Minist
er of the Army under Seipel. Previously, Social Democrats had filled the army with party members, yet Vaugoin had seen to its complete depoliticization. This was the great service of Vaugoin, whom Austrians called “our good, beloved Vaugerl.” An array of various volunteer fighter groups also emerged from among the university students: monarchists, followers of Dollfuss, the Sturmscharen of Schuschnigg, and the members of the Heimwehr. Of course, these young people were more like auxiliaries to preserve order in the city and they were not involved in the real battles.

  I did not doubt for a moment that the government would succeed in suppressing the uprising. Yet I deeply regretted the disastrous fighting between Austrians at a moment when everyone needed to unite against the great enemy, Hitler. What a blow to the prestige of the Dollfuss government around the world that it became necessary to fire on the workers. There was great commotion on all sides.

  Simon came to me the morning the uprising had erupted. He was quite agitated and asked me if I wanted to remain in Vienna under these circumstances. He considered the situation very serious and wanted to travel to Bratislava that afternoon. I told him the danger did not strike me as too great and that I wanted to stay. He did in fact end up leaving that afternoon.

  There was no fighting within the Inner City of Vienna. But one could continually hear the shooting and in this way I experienced the situation fully. That evening, Franzi told me about patrolling with the volunteers groups, which he had joined. The Social Democrats had shot at them from the windows of nearby houses. A friend of his had been seriously injured in the groin. It was still dangerous, even in districts that did not witness the major fighting between the army and the militia of the workers, because Social Democrat workers were everywhere hidden in private homes and would suddenly shoot from the windows at anyone visibly affiliated with the government.

  Repeatedly, Dollfuss and Prince Schönburg*10 turned to the militant workers, begging them to lay down their weapons; if they did so immediately, they would not be prosecuted in court. There was such nobility in their exhortations; nothing of hatred or demagoguery, only sorrow over the unnecessary and unfortunate fighting. I think the fighting lasted three days.

  Klaus naturally came to see me frequently. Not only did we discuss the situation, we also had to plan the next issue of the journal with care. In this agitated and crucial moment, it was of great importance to find the right words: on the one hand, to condemn unambiguously the revolt of the Social Democrats, on the other hand, to remind everyone that the primary enemy of the government and of Austria were not the Social Democrats but Nazi Germany. For members of the Christian Social Party, and above all for the Heimwehr, the real danger was that hatred for the Social Democrats, their traditional enemy within Austria, would completely consume them and so divert their gaze from the incomparably more dangerous, powerful, and radical enemy, National Socialism.

  All of this made it very important to strike the right tone in the upcoming issue. Unfortunately, we received a completely unusable article from Schaukal,*11 whom we had met through Hegner,*12 which was filled with a deadly spirit of hatred for the Social Democrats and which succumbed to the most awful fantasizing about punishments for the Social Democrats. Naturally, we could not publish the article, yet the question remained how we could avoid irritating this incredibly conceited man and so turning him into a mortal enemy. I no longer remember exactly how we did it.

  The uprising collapsed after the third day and the fighting came to an end. Those who had fought were granted amnesty, but the leaders among the Social Democrats who were responsible (and who had not fled) were punished. The Nazis exploited the revolt to present Dollfuss as murderer of the workers, as the man who shot at the Austrian working class to preserve his dictatorship. This abject defamation made an impression on many people, even outside of Germany.

  Regrettably, it is so easy to influence even many well-meaning people with slogans, such as “enemy of the workers,” “brutal dictator,” etc. Even Jacques Maritain was swept into collecting signatures in Paris for a petition against Dollfuss who had ordered the army to shoot at the poor workers. This was the same Maritain who, as recently as our time together in Paris before Christmas, had wanted to send his books to Dollfuss as a token of esteem. Thank God, Gabriel Marcel refused to lend his name since he did not want to act on the basis of mere slogans without having precise facts.

  There were many changes after the revolt. Richard Schmitz*13 became the mayor of Vienna, replacing the Social Democrat, Karl Seitz,*14 while also the deputy mayors were all replaced with new people.

  In May, the Dollfuss government promulgated the constitution for a new Austrian state based on the principles of corporatism—the so-called Ständestaat. Inspired by Catholic social teaching—particularly Pope Pius XI’s 1931 encyclical, Quadragesimo anno—Dollfuss sought an alternative to both laissez-faire capitalism and Marxist Socialism. His corporative model created professional groupings—the “corporations,” such as manufacturing and financial services—that would bring together business owners and workers around shared interests. Dollfuss thought the Ständestaat, with its strong Catholic and Austrian identity, could also serve as a bulwark against aspirations by Nazi Germany to annex Austria.

  The new Austrian state was authoritarian in the sense that the seat of legislative authority moved from the parliament to the chancellor. Dollfuss was criticized for adopting these measures, while he and his supporters maintained they were necessary, at least temporarily, to stabilize the country. Direct election to parliament was replaced by four councils whose members were appointed rather than elected. These councils in turn selected a federal diet, which had limited legislative power in the form of a “for” or “against” vote on laws proposed by the chancellor.

  The primary theme for the government now lay in drafting the new constitution, which would replace parliamentary democracy with the corporative state—a corporative state, moreover, created entirely in light of the encyclical Quadragesimo anno. Alongside this were plans to work out a concordat with the Holy See through which Austria would gain the definitive character of a Catholic state.

  The task of developing the new constitution had been conferred on Dr. Ender,*15 the previous chancellor. Harkening from Vorarlberg, Ender was a man of highest integrity and respected by everyone. There was in him no trace, not even the slightest hint, of corruption or abuse of his position for personal gain, unlike so many other leading Christian Social politicians (notably Commerce Minister Stockinger). But Ender was himself a principled democrat, and so it was no easy task for him to draw up a constitution which was not entirely in accord with his convictions. But in his great loyalty to Austria, he undertook this task in a spirit of full commitment.

  I visited Ender once during this period and asked him to write an article for our journal. It was an interesting and rewarding visit, for Ender was not only a very intelligent but also a very attractive personality. He treated me very warmly and also promised to contribute an article for the Ständestaat. Ender was one of those people in whose presence one has the feeling of breathing a pure air—of something completely unsullied and entirely righteous. As a real Vorarlberger, he had something more Swiss than specifically Austrian about him, or perhaps I should say that he embodied both elements, though, in comparison with someone like Seipel, who was authentically Viennese, Ender was Swiss.

  I forgot to describe an important encounter that took place early in December or just after Christmas. This was my audience with the Austrian President, Miklas.*16 He greeted me very warmly and began to speak at length. He was a rather short and stocky man who came across less as a president and more like a high school principal—which had been his previous occupation, I think. But there was also something very attractive about him. He seemed to be a man of immense moral seriousness and piety, yet also of great simplicity and unpretentiousness.

  He was quite distressed by breaking with the parliamentary constitution; everything that was not quite correct went
against his grain. Presumably he saw the necessity of the step taken by Dollfuss, for whom he had great esteem, yet he was unhappy that it had unavoidably become necessary to sacrifice democratic legitimacy. But Dollfuss, too, was a democrat by conviction. When Domanig told him he would have to close parliament, Dollfuss said, “What? Should I, who believe in democracy, play the dictator?”

  But now Dollfuss was totally taken up with his great task of saving Austria from National Socialism. He wanted to prepare the ground for a democracy on a corporatist basis, as envisioned in Quadragesimo anno. And when I say “democracy,” I mean an anti-totalitarian vision of individual freedom and the organic participation of all in public life. Miklas was a man of the old tradition of parliamentarian government, while Dollfuss was a man of the future. Miklas was in fact a monarchist, though he had voted for the Republic at a moment when many monarchists thought it prudent to do so for political reasons.

  In the years between 1919 and 1921, many well-intentioned people thought it was impossible to overthrow the autocratic rule of the Socialists and form a Christian Social government while simultaneously supporting the monarchy. They considered the alternative between a Socialist regime and a Christian Social government on friendly terms with the Church to be of greater importance than the choice between a republic and a monarchy. They were objectively quite right to privilege the former alternative. Seipel thought and acted in exactly this way.

  My time with Miklas was extraordinarily interesting. We had a discussion of real substance, free of all conventionalism. I primarily listened to Miklas who spoke without any diplomatic reserve but with great openness and in a human way. Bidding me farewell after about an hour, he said, “So, now go and tell the world what an Austrian president thinks.” Of course I had briefly described my own point of view, in particular my view of National Socialism, which was already familiar to him through our journal. I had the heartening feeling that we were in complete accord. Establishing this contact with the President was obviously of great value for me. True, he had no direct political influence, but he did have certain important constitutional functions, such as appointing key members of the government.