My Battle Against Hitler Read online

  Thank God, this attempt by Hitler was frustrated by Starhemberg.*30 Upon hearing this, my perception of Starhemberg changed, for until then I had seen him as a loyal Heimwehr member, a follower of Mussolini, and as someone whose outlook was quite muddleheaded. But now I saw a refreshing simplicity: the clear-cut categories of the soldier and that loyalty which is inimical to all considerations of diplomacy—a great gift at that moment.

  Starhemberg’s loyalty and honest dependability were probably the reason Dollfuss favored him over Major Fey, who was capable yet incredibly ambitious and enigmatic, and appointed Starhemberg to the Vice-Chancellorship. Fey and Starhemberg were old rivals in the Heimwehr. The relationship between Dollfuss and Fey became increasingly tense and by July Dollfuss had firmly resolved to dismiss Fey, who until then still held an important post in the government, I believe as Minister of Security.

  Another unfortunate incident was tied to the introduction of the death penalty. As such I was quite happy that the death penalty was reintroduced, for the assassinations and other political crimes committed by the Nazi underground urgently called for the death penalty. Yet I was very unhappy when Weber said to me, “Hopefully the first criminal to receive the death penalty will be a Communist and not a Nazi. Otherwise it will be politically unbearable, given the effect on Nazi Germany.” This did not please me at all. Why should the effect on Nazi Germany even be a consideration? After all, the Nazis would interpret any actions by the Dollfuss government in the most dishonest and defamatory manner.

  But looking back, perhaps my reaction was too black and white. The situation was so difficult, yet somehow one had to discern a way forward. The first person to receive the death sentence was neither a Communist nor a Nazi but an ordinary arsonist. This was deeply unfortunate because the sentence was totally disproportionate. In what—I believe—was an act of revenge, the arsonist had set fire to a barn, for which he would normally have received a ten-year sentence. There was now general relief that one had found a first victim who was not a Nazi. The verdict was too harsh, and Dollfuss was terribly distressed that this draconian sentence should be carried out for political reasons.

  He went into his room and prayed an Our Father for the poor arsonist as the sentence was being carried out. He believed that he had to make this concession, that it was his duty, even though it was very difficult for him personally. Yet I think that it was a great mistake on his part.

  I recall that Gretchen and I along with the Matajas were invited to dinner that evening by Captain Bam and his wife. Mataja was beside himself over the sentence, and he was right. His indignation was genuine and a sign of his deep sense of justice. He rightly felt that an unjust sentence—let alone a death sentence, the sacrifice of a human life—was not a legitimate concession to the national interest. I will never forget this evening. We were all deeply downcast. Mataja’s indignation over this terrible situation was fully shared by Captain Bam.

  Dollfuss was on good terms with Mussolini. Now, to be sure Dollfuss was a principled opponent of Fascism, which is why he said to me, “Mussolini wants to build on pagan Rome, I by contrast want only to build on the Christian Middle Ages.” But Mussolini had taken a decisive stance for the independence of Austria and was the primary bulwark for Austria against Nazi Germany.

  Beyond this, Mussolini also had tremendous respect for Dollfuss, whom he liked a great deal. So it was that a real, personal relationship had formed between the two men. Mussolini invited Dollfuss and his family for a vacation on the Adriatic and listened with interest to what Dollfuss had to say about his basic outlook and convictions. In fact, he respected Dollfuss’ faith and almost envied him for it. I think Dollfuss knew how to appeal to what was noblest in Mussolini, for despite all his flaws, Mussolini also had potential for good. Klaus also learned a great deal about this from a most reliable source, namely Morreale, with whom he had become quite friendly.

  Despite their collaboration on foreign policy and despite the warmth of their personal relationship, as a true statesman Dollfuss remained ever attuned to political possibilities of any sort, preserving his complete independence from Mussolini even in areas where they worked together, like foreign policy.

  Around that time, Mussolini met Hitler for the first time in Stra.*31 Although, as I later found out, this meeting made a very negative impression on Mussolini, still it was a brilliant “chess move” by Dollfuss to meet the French foreign minister and Prime Minister, Barthou,*32 at the train station in Vienna. Barthou was returning from Bucharest to Paris, and they were able to have a lengthy discussion about foreign policy. This was immediately following Mussolini and Hitler’s meeting in Stra.

  I was very pleased by this swift countermove, since relations between Mussolini and France at the time were rather tense. As I later found out, when Mussolini saw Hitler for the first time ever in Stra, he said to his adjutant, “Questa faccia é un ontà per l’umanità” (“this face is a disgrace to humanity”), a very striking remark which proves that Mussolini did have a sense for quality and that he saw through Hitler’s pathetic and tawdry appearance.

  I think I paid my second visit to President Miklas at the beginning of June. Once again, it was a substantive discussion, throughout which I was impressed by the moral earnestness, the great conscientiousness, and the modesty of the man. I think we also discussed the execution of the arsonist, which Miklas was very unhappy about. Beyond this, I do not recall many particulars, but I mention the visit because I had already formed a certain relationship to him by the time I visited him for the third time at the end of July in a highly dramatic moment. But I will only describe this later.

  During this spring Klemperer came to see me, or perhaps he telephoned. He had moved from Florence to Vienna and lived at Schönbrunn Palace in one of the most beautiful apartments I have ever seen—the most magnificent parquet floors imaginable, enchanting baroque furniture, wonderful ornamented blankets, and above all a view into the little garden filled with roses. It was an absolute Figaro-world: a highpoint of culture and beauty. The Emperor Charles had previously lived here. The Klemperers invited us on many occasions. I got to know his wife and his daughter, Lotte, who was still very young at the time, perhaps ten or twelve. His wife was originally from the Rhineland. She was quite likeable and made a very sound impression.

  I can hardly find the words to express how beautiful it was to be invited there for dinner. I remember one occasion especially. It was still bright, because the sun in June sets quite late. We ate outside in the garden in front of the house, and it was the most blissful experience to be surrounded by this unique world—the world of Austria, of the Rococo, the world of Figaro. Schönbrunn as a whole is uniquely beautiful, but this section with the little rose garden in the golden light of the summer evening was particularly wonderful.

  To experience such a distinctive and refined world, filled with the special air of Mozart, and embodied in such a concrete and individual manner, is something very rare. How unusual it is to find the beauty and nobility of this world realized in such perfection, concreteness, and fullness. And what a great and unusual gift it is to find oneself unexpectedly in this world, not for the sake of enjoyment but transported there by life circumstances, not as a spectator but as someone inhabiting it in an entirely natural way.

  At the Klemperers I saw Paul von Klenau,*33 the Danish musician, whom I had not seen in many years. He was married to a Jewish woman, whose maiden name was Simon, which was probably the reason he had left Germany. He spoke as if he were an opponent of National Socialism, but soon after he returned to Germany without his wife. In fact, he divorced her and chose to conform himself to Nazism. I had never had an especially positive impression of his character.

  Through Klemperer, I also came to know Klenau’s Jewish son-in-law, Soma Morgenstern, a talented writer to whom I owe my knowledge of many wonderful Jewish anecdotes. Being with the Klemperers was always very stimulating, for he was intelligent, cultivated, and a strong personality. From time t
o time he would conduct and give us tickets to his concerts.

  In the meantime, my relationship with Oesterreicher had greatly developed. I saw him often, and once he invited me for a long walk in the Vienna woods, a walk which took up nearly the entire day. He invited me to become the godfather of Georg Wassermann, the son of Jakob Wassermann,*34 who had recently converted under his direction. I accepted with great joy, and Georg Wassermann, then about twenty-two years old, was baptized in the church of Notre Dame de Sion.

  Of great importance were my visits to Bishop Gföllner*35 of Linz. Early on, I stopped off for two hours to be received by him while on a trip to Salzburg. Among the Austrian bishops there was no more resolute opponent of the Nazis than Bishop Gföllner. From the very beginning, he had ordered the churches in his diocese to offer the prayers against evil doers (contra malum agentes), with special application to the Nazis. I was delighted by the way he had stepped forward to attack the Nazis forcefully in various ways.

  This is why I felt a strong need to see him. He received me in the most gracious way and we understood each other extremely well. He was very enthusiastic about our journal, which he received and read. A very authoritarian bishop, Gföllner had something of a cramped personality. He was also a strict Thomist. Yet none of this then struck me as decisive.

  The discernment of spirits, which alone mattered in that moment, simply required one to ask whether a person clearly grasped the nature of National Socialism and whether they rejected it completely on the basis of the right philosophical and moral reasons. Where this was the case, differences of opinion could be postponed for a later time. This was why Bishop Gföllner was my favorite among the Austrian bishops. During my Vienna years, I went variously to see him in Linz on my way to Salzburg. I also befriended his secretary, Prelate Ohnmacht,*36 who often visited me in Vienna and whose political orientation was excellent.

  A closer look at Bishop Gföllner reveals the complexity of the situation in which von Hildebrand had to navigate. Even courageous Catholics who condemned Nazism were not immune to a form of religious anti-Semitism that viewed Judaism and Jews as morally and culturally “harmful.”

  Von Hildebrand must have known that on January 23, 1933—a week before Hitler was named chancellor of Germany—Gföllner had issued a pastoral letter denouncing Nazism. While Gföllner condemns hatred of the Jews, he writes at length of the harm secularized Jews allegedly have on Christian culture. His letter provoked widespread criticism and moved the entire Austrian episcopacy to respond. In December 1933, the Austrian bishops issued a collective pastoral in which they more clearly condemned anti-Semitism.

  One evening Klaus brought me to a small restaurant called the Griechenbeisl to meet former German Chancellor Joseph Wirth, who always went there when he came to Vienna. Klaus had already become acquainted with him before, while I had already heard so much about him in my life. He struck me more as a sergeant than a statesman.

  He was of large stature, with an enormous blond moustache. His face was rather flushed, and he had a jovial, light-hearted, and friendly expression. He spoke in a very pronounced Baden accent and with the gusto often found in people from Baden, and especially from Württemberg, who greatly enjoy speaking their dialect. This also occurs in people from Berlin and the Rhineland, while in Swabians and Allemanians there is an additional note of optimism and even a certain self-importance. Wirth also had this quality. He said to me, “Professor, you will find the very best beer in all of Vienna at the Griechenbeisl!” He avoided serious topics, including politics, told jokes, and praised the beer.

  My relationship to Domanig grew increasingly warm, and sometimes he would drop by unannounced. I think my introduction of Domanig to Prince Hans Schönburg already dates to this time. In any event, I was happy to bring together these two noble personalities who, as far as social position went, came from vastly different worlds. They got along very well.

  In those days, Domanig told me of a remark by Dollfuss which was incredibly characteristic of him. Dollfuss was speaking about his progressive hardness of hearing. He said, “I hope my hearing lasts another two years, since I want to retire as soon as we are able to secure an independent future for Austria—as soon as the threat of National Socialism is averted.” This statement was very typical of Dollfuss for it showed how free he was of any ambition. He remained Chancellor, not out of ambition, but because he considered it to be his God-given mission. This is a trait rarely found among talented statesmen.

  Domanig also told me about a time he and Dollfuss were riding on a train together. As they pulled into the station, they could see into the train parallel to theirs. A man sitting in the compartment of the other train looked at Dollfuss with an expression of such hatred that Dollfuss and Domanig were deeply shaken. How could one hate Dollfuss, who was so noble, so kind, so well-wishing toward everyone, who fought against the Antichrist of National Socialism! But Domanig told me that seeing the man’s expression was like looking into an inferno of hatred.

  I have not yet written anything about the two young men, Bosch*37 and Canaval,*38 who played a leading role in Schuschnigg’s Catholic Sturmscharen.*39 I met them through Klaus and Franzi. They were also publishers of a newspaper called The Storm Over Austria.*40 Both were deeply committed Austrian patriots and fellow soldiers in the great battle against National Socialism.

  On June 30, news began to reach us about unrest in Germany, and on July 1 the reports were already more detailed. With the first rumors on June 30, Klaus and I began to hope it might be internal unrest in Germany that could signal the beginning of the end. But already on July 1 we heard about the murder of Röhm*41 and it soon became clear that the unrest was in fact a gruesome “purge” by Hitler. I can still see Klaus as he came to me with the initial reports, saying with satisfaction, “It appears that there has been shooting in Germany and now great confusion, which makes me very hopeful.”

  That evening we went to the Griechenbeisl to see Chancellor Wirth and to find out more from him thanks to the good sources he had. We did find him there. He was very agitated and anxious to know in greater detail whether it was an uprising against the National Socialist regime, an internal power struggle, or even something else. I still see him putting down his beer every fifteen minutes to rush to the telephone to find out if further news had come in. But that evening it was impossible to confirm anything. But it was not long before we began to get increasing detail about the terrible murders that had been committed: Röhm and Gregor Strasser*42 from the National Socialists, Klausener*43 from the Catholics, and Schleicher*44—to mention only the best known—had been murdered.

  All together, more than a thousand were massacred on June 30 and the following night. Unfortunately it was not an uprising but a purge—the so-called “Night of the Long Knives”—in which Hitler had anyone murdered who made him the slightest bit uneasy, while also giving his followers carte blanche to exact revenge on their personal enemies and opponents.

  On July 2, Fr. Thomas Michels*45 came to visit me in a state of intense agitation. He told that Willi Schmidt*46 had also been taken from his home on June 30 and immediately beheaded. This was completely mysterious. Willi Schmidt was certainly a decisive opponent of National Socialism, yet he was not politically prominent in any way, nor did he have any personal enemies. Fr. Thomas was very close to him and his wife (a charming Jewish convert), and so he was completely beside himself over the murder. It soon turned out that the murder had happened “by mistake.” The people from the SS who had arrested him came to Mrs. Schmidt to apologize, saying that they had taken the wrong person. They had been searching for a completely different Wilhelm Schmidt. They were sorry and asked if they might be allowed to attend the burial. Mrs. Schmidt thanked them but asked them to stay away.

  I also soon found out that my friend, Fritz Beck, had been murdered on June 30. This shook me deeply. I thought of our farewell and how I tried at the time to convince him to leave Germany. He had said he could not, just as a captain could
not abandon his ship. I later heard the details from a reliable source.

  It was an act of revenge by a doctor who as a student had plotted against Beck and had hated him from that time. The doctor hired several people to kill Beck. They came to Beck’s home and declared they were to arrest him and bring him to Dachau. Beck believed it to be an official arrest and so went with them. On the way to Dachau, they shot him in the car, threw out his corpse, and drove away. A homeless man who lay hidden behind a bush heard the shot and saw that a dead body was being thrown out of the car. Thinking it was a robbery and a murder, he informed the nearest police. They found the corpse and identified Beck by his papers. His nephew Huber was notified and called to confirm the identity.

  It was particularly tragic that Beck had been home that day. Had he not been found by these people on the “Night of the Long Knives,” the next day no one would have bothered him anymore. After all, there was no serious, political basis for his arrest. Poor, noble Beck! Thus ended his life, in which he had done so much good for others, and in which in the most inspired way he had enriched the communal life of the university students. Here was a man deserving of every honor, yet he was thrust aside in this disgraceful way. He was not even brought before a court, but simply killed like a dog and thrown onto the street.

  And yet, Beck’s death was also emblematic. For even though his murder was a pure act of personal revenge, his entire life’s work was so antithetical to National Socialism that in the long run he could not have lived in its midst. Sooner or later, Beck had to become a victim of National Socialism.

  His death was a great loss for me personally. I had great respect for him and we were bound together in friendship. He had played a great role in my life in Munich between 1920 and 1933. Above all, his death was objectively a great loss, since Beck could still have done so much good after 1945 in the work of rebuilding after the end of the Third Reich.