A Man of Courage and Integrity

Ulrich Schlie: Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg. Biographie ISBN 978-3-451-03147-2 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Carl Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg’s world and mine are some 70 years apart, and this may explain my harsh judgment of his person and the motives that led him to lead the 1944 putsch against Adolf Hitler. I still don’t like Sophie von Bechtolsheim’s book that I reviewed in my previous post, but this biography gave me a much better and much-needed understanding on who Stauffenbergwas and what drove him to try to kill Hitler.

Stauffenberg was a patriot in a positive sense. As a member of the German nobility, he had very high ethic standards, some of which we have come to consider typically German: industriousness, personal honour, discipline and last but not least a deep emotional bond to Germany. As a student he initially wanted to become an architect and in a school essay he wrote that “every building should be considered a temple dedicated to the German people and fatherland.” Now you may smile just as I did, but I perfectly understand what the young man meant. A certain naive idealism is not uncommon at the age of 14, and his generation was convinced that Germany had a special destiny.

From his early youth on Stauffenberg had been influenced by the German poet Stefan George as Schlie points out. George was en vogue and emphasized the unity of life with one’s life’s purpose (Einheit von Leben und Werk). One of his poems “Clandestine Germany” (Geheimes Deutschland) announced a new kind of order, a state founded on the preeminence of spiritual elements. That “clandestine Germany” could be constructed as an alternative to the political system in Germany after World War I, the Weimar Republic, as an alternative also to its economic model of unrestricted capitalism, and as the chance for a spiritual rebirth after the disastrous defeat of 1918. Nothing in George’s ideas suggest a sympathy for the growing Nazi movement. George saw himself as a new source of German nationalism, but he abhorred the vulgarity and the violence the Nazis stood for.

George was a poet however and not a politician or a political scientist. He didn’t work out a blueprint for a new German state or for the revolution necessary to bring that new state about. It was less a plan than a dream. This may explain why Stauffenberg had a reasonably solid plan for the attack against Hitler and the following putsch, but little idea on what Germany would or should look like once the Nazis had been driven from power. Too many uncertainties remained during the planning phase in 1943/44.

How would the Allies react? A quick cease-fire would perhaps make the putsch acceptable to the majority of the Germans, but would the Allies play along? And if so, under which conditions? An unconditional surrender would have been unacceptable for Stauffenberg and his co-conspirators as this would mean repeating the mistakes of the Treaty of Versailles, one of the reasons why the Nazis found a receptive audience in the 1920s. The Allies however showed no interest whatsoever in the conspirators’ plans.

Stauffenberg decided early in his life to join the army and become an officer. He saw it the best way to fulfill his personal ideals: to serve the state and to be ready to sacrifice his life for Germany. Stauffenberg had found the purpose of his life. It was only later that he realized that this state and with it Germany as a whole had been hijacked and perverted by the Nazis. His wish to overthrow the Nazis can be understood as a continuation of his actual mission. He and his co-conspirators would turn back the wheel of history and return to those German values Stauffenberg had taken up from Stefan George.

As important as George’s influence was for Stauffenberg as an intellectual stimulation, his political consciousness however was shaped just as much by current political affairs: the failure of the parliamentarian democracy of Weimar to provide for a secure, politically and economically stable environment in which Germany could prosper. Much has been said about why the Weimar Republic failed, suffice to say that the reasons were numerous and the political-philosophical mindset of most Germans was only one reason. To Stauffenberg and many others the armed forces appeared as the only anchor of stability. It emphasized courage, self-sacrifice, honour and discipline, four virtues mostly absent from the debates in the Reichstag. It it is these two elements that makes a military dictatorship attractive to many even today.

The Nazis needed the support of the armed forces to come to power. They promised to return the military to its former strength and thus gained the loyalty of thousands of officers, whose mindset was mostly national-conservative. Nothing indicates that Stauffenberg ever was a convinced Nazi, says Schlie. In 1930 the young man had been promoted lieutenant, and when Hitler grabbed power in 1933 he certainly did not oppose him. He believed Hitler as millions of Germans did. That year he wrote to George: “Anyone who builds a stable foundation for his power, must be applauded.”

Stability was the issue of the day and that was what Hitler had promised. As for the means to achieve this stability, it would take a few years and the first military setbacks during the invasion of the Soviet Union before Stauffenberg would deem the price too high. By then he had also understood that Hitler’s totalitarian regime was totally opposed to his own political concepts and that being at war on three fronts would lead to disaster. In 1939, on the eve of the German invasion of Poland, Stauffenberg called Hitler a fool. And with the Soviet victory in Stalingrad in 1942 he became convinced that Hitler must be stopped, if necessary by force.

Ulrich Schlie’s book allowed me to reassess Stauffenberg’s life and his motivation. That’s why I read it, that’s why I had hoped for. The superficial information I had researched on the internet in connection with that other review had left me dissatisfied. This was the book I needed to understand the man. His origin explains his political conservatism, his experiences with the Weimar Republic explain his distrust of the parliamentary democracy. But he had precise moral compass and a tremendous amount of personal integrity and courage. A true leader, quite unlike the Führer.

Stauffenberg grew up with the poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, one of my favourite writers, and I remember I post on my other blog about a Rilke poem dealing with the question whether one has achieved one’s life’s goal or not. Stauffenberg did achieve his goal. He died because he had risen up to fight evil. That poem of Rilke has some very special magic, just like the piano piece I associated with it. Franz Schubert wrote it.

A Pilgrimage from Youth to Old Age

Getting to Know Stauffenberg? Not Really.

stauffenberg

Sophie von Bechtolsheim: Mein Großvater war kein Attentäter ⭐️⭐️ ISBN 978-3-451-07217-8 Killing a tyrant is a complicated issue. Not from a practical point of view. It can be done. It has been done actually. Cesar, Louis XVI, Tsar Alexander II, Nicolae Ceausescu… But is it legitimate? And if so, under which circumstances? What if the killer has no noble motive, but just happens to be psychopath? What if he acts for personal gain? What if he wants to become a tyrant himself?

I came to reconsider this question when I started to read this book about Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, one of the men and women that plotted (and failed) to kill Adolf Hitler in July 1944. Hitler was evil, of course, but killing a man is an immoral thing, isn’t it? The last time I had thought about it was in 1989, when I took an undergraduate course in political theory and tried to deal with the ancient Greek philosophers’ ideas on the subject. The Greeks came to the conclusions that killing a tyrant is a complicated thing.

Had Stauffenberg’s plot succeeded, World War II might have ended earlier than it did. But would it have been right for Stauffenberg to blow up the Führer with a bomb when Stauffenberg mostly wanted to save Germany from a humiliating military defeat, that would strip it of its earlier military gains? His motive wasn’t to propagate a liberal democracy in Germany, far from it. Democracy was totally unpopular in Germany after the failure of the Weimar Republic and would have been unfeasible in 1944 after an eventual cease-fire. The Allied powers had to force it upon the Germans after the total defeat in 1945.

The plotters around Stauffenberg were concerned about the suffering of Germans, dying at the Eastern front or at home in the bombed cities. Those very Germans who had elected the Nazis in 1933 with a substantial majority. The plotters wanted a powerful, autocratic Germany minus Hitler and his Nazi clique. They were aware of the horrible crimes committed against the Jews and civilians in the occupied territories, but to stop this wasn’t their primary or even secondary motive. They acted out of a feeling to save Germany’s honour, the honour of some other Germany, not perverted by Hitler’s fantasies.

Sophie von Bechtolsheim is a German historian born in 1968. She is also the grand-daughter of Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, the subject of her book. Stauffenberg was a plotter, but he was much more than that as the title suggests. He was a husband, a father, a German national-conservative, a soldier, a faithful Catholic. Von Bechtolsheim’s intend was to sketch a personal portrait of the man. I had high expectations that unfortunately have not been fulfilled by the book. Von Bechtolsheim gives us some background about the Stauffenberg family, and that’s it.

Stauffenberg was executed by the Nazis a day after the failed attack on Hitler and, as a careful conspirator, he had left no written traces about his plans, his motives, his reflections, his political ideas. He knew right from the beginning that he was playing with fire. For that reason von Bechtolsheim draws from the memories of relatives, mainly Stauffenberg’s wife, of friends and surviving co-conspirators. It adds a little to the picture of Stauffenberg, but not much. To historians the book is utterly irrelevant and certainly no alternative to a well-researched biography. To political scientists her comparison of modern-day terrorism and the bomb attack of 1944 is at least bizarre.

Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg was a gifted and enthusiastic cello player. I valued this piece of information in von Bechtoldsheim’s book more than anything else she wrote. Given his education, he certainly was familiar with the Romanticists’ beautiful chamber music. So here we go with the appropriated music, Franz Schubert’s String Quartet No. 13 in A Minor:

Beautiful World, Where Are You?

The Dirty Secrets of Barcelona’s Upperclass

Rosa Ribas, Sabine Hofmann: Das Flüstern der Stadt (Spanish title: Don de lenguas) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ ISBN 978-3-463-40354-0 Two female writers, a female journalist as the main character in a crime story with Franco’s Falangist Spain as the backdrop – the result is a fantastic novel, a masterful plot narrated in a wonderfully nuanced language. Too bad I never learnt Spanish, I had to contend with the German version of this Spanish-German coproduction. I bet, in the Spanish version I would have been even more fascinated by the refined use of language. Such a well-written book!

Ana Maria Noguer is a young journalist working for a newspaper that each day performs a careful balancing act between not offending the Franco regime and its journalistic mission to report the truth. Ana Maria usually does not come into touch with political reporting, she covers the glamour life of Barcelona’s upperclass society, attending cocktail parties and opera performances. One day however she is tasked to report about the brutal murder of Mariona Sobrerroca, a lady beloging to the said upperclass. She was the widow of a well-known physician. The police is under political pressure to come up with a quick result and the investigation is handed over to Inspector Isidro Castro.

Castro and Noguer meet as they have to cooperate. The police needs a little PR and Ana Maria needs Castro to learn the details about the case. An initially uneasy cooperation evolves into a somewhat trusted partnership. At first they follow a lead saying that Mariona Sobrerroca became the victim of an armed robbery. But Ana Maria has recruited the help of Beatriz, a linguist, to analyze love letters among the victim’s possessions. They conclude that the lady had rather fallen into the trap of a conman, contacting lonely wives to get their money. It all seems to fit together, the police is happy, Ana Maria’s editor-in-chief is happy. Ana Maria herself and Beatriz however have a doubt. It all looks to good to be true.

She and Beatriz continue the investigation that officially is closed, despite Inspector Castro’s explicit injunction to stay out of the way. Gradually they uncover a conspiracy meant to bury disturbing, compromising facts about Barcelona’s upperclass society. A dangerous undertaking as they find out.  Mariona Sobrerroca’s deceased husbands knew a lot of important families and many of Barcelona’s distinguished ladies. He also knew quite a few of their dirty secrets. The murderer of Mariona Sobrerroca knew that too. And so a cat-and-mouse game develops that takes us deep into the Spanish society under the rule of Franco, where the past catches up with the present and puts political careers at risk.

If the cunning plot of this novel is an argument good enough to buy it immediately, I would like to point out another lovely characteristic: The story has a lot to do with books, with writing, with literary style. Recruiting a linguist to uncover a hidden truth – even Inspector Castro has to admit at some point that literary sciences can be of direct practical use to society. Even if he doesn’t like the final result of Ana Maria’s and Beatriz’ conclusions.

I read a the last chapters of this novel while being sick, and besides Ana Maria and Beatriz, I had Mozart helping me through the day with his Piano Trio in D Major:

A Mozart Piano Trio to Recover from a Flu

A Magic Book about Love and Death

Cornelia Funke: Tintenblut (English title: Ink Blood) ISBN 978-3791504674 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Volume 2 of the “Tintenherz”-trilogy proved to be no less captivating than the first volume which I have presented in an earlier post. Again, the focus lies on the power of books and of reading. Books are dangerous, let it be known. They can suck in the readers and spew out the personae dramatis, leading to all kind of troubles in two parallel worlds, the real one and the imagined one.

The main characters – Meggie, her father Mo and “Dust Finger” have been introduced already in that earlier post about the first volume, but several new and interesting figures play a pivotal role in the second book. There is the “Black Prince”, the leader of a band of artists that occasionally turn into robbers, furthermore a dark ruler of the name of “Asp Head” and finally several lovely and courageous and some not so lovely and not so courageous ladies who in the end decide the fate of Maggie, her father and young Farid.

“Ink Blood” goes beyond a mere sequel of a fantasy novel. Meggie’s psyche is explored in greater detail, a fact that brings additional tension to the plot. There’s a lot of love at play, old love, young love, impossible love. The corollary is death, and yes, there are many occasions to die in this volume as Meggie and her friends have set out to fight and overcome evil. Mo’s character becomes more interesting too: Under the right circumstances, a bookbinder can turn into a fearless warrior. Who would have suspected that?

Another element makes this volume even more thrilling to read: As Meggie enters the fictive world of a book (THE book actually!), she is caught in a trap. The fantasy world is wild and dangerous and luring, so luring that it becomes difficult for her to imagine leaving it. But however fascinating a book is, you cannot stay in a fantasy world forever. Or can you? Would you? Should you? As I said, books are dangerous.

I really, really do not want to spoil your reading pleasure, so I will say no more about the plot itself. I liked the second volume of Funke’s trilogy so much that I read it over a weekend. 700 pages, 48 hours – that’s very close to beating my own record. And it speaks for itself: The book is a delight, a pleasure, a real thrill. Now for the music, this one is easy. Love and death are the main themes of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”, and around 1870 Pyotr Tchaikovsky composed a wonderful overture about the same subject:

Passionate Love vs. Implacable Hate

About Being Led to the Nazi Slaughterhouse

hilberg shoah

Raul Hilberg: Die Vernichtung der europäischen Juden (Translation by Christian Seeger, Harry Maor, Walle Bengs, Wilfried Szepan; English title: The Destruction of the European Jews) ISBN 978-3-596-24417-1 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Raul Hilberg’s scientific study of the Holocaust, first published in 1961, ranks among the best works about this difficult subject of all times. It is easy to see why: The author consulted tens of thousands of source documents, from original Wehrmacht and SS paperwork to the records of the Nuremberg War Criminal Tribunals. The level of detail of this study makes it a valuable tool for historians and political scientists. The level of detail makes it also a challenging, at times exhausting read.

If you decide to read this book, be warned: Hilberg describes the three distinct phases of the destruction of the European Jews – expropriation, concentration and finally the killing – without resorting to any emotional language. There is no dramatic element that softens the impact that the account of how a well-organized bureaucracy meant to systematically kill millions of people may have on the reader’s mind. The neutral description of the planning and execution of the confiscation of stocks, gold, jewels, houses, furniture and personal belongings, of the deportation from all territories under Nazi control, of the ever-growing apparatus of the SS and finally of the running of concentration, labour and death camps – all this makes Hilberg’s study a brutal book.

The German edition counts some 1000+ pages, and it would be a futile effort to try to summarize the content of the three volumes. I will instead focus on an aspect that was new to me. Something that became a hard-to-chew-on food for thought. According to Hilberg, there was hardly any Jewish resistance. The Jews, whatever their origin, did not put up a fight before being led to the slaughterhouse. Actually, if you permit the allegory, they readily lined up in a disciplined queue, encouraged by the elders of their respective council.

Hilberg has a psychological explanation that I wouldn’t have though of: 2000 years of European anti-Semitism had taught the Jews to assimilate, to accommodate, to submit to the stronger. They had survived prosecutions, expropriations, discriminations and expulsions before. Under the Nazis, it wouldn’t be different, many experienced leaders thought. Give in a little, buy the Nazis off, suffer silently, be patient and forthcoming, and after some hassle they will leave us alone.

What the Jewish communities initially did not realize, was the fact that the Nazis actually wanted to go the anti-Semitic way down until its very end: the physical destruction of all European Jews. They couldn’t imagine that the Nazis would build an administrative system able to kill all Europeans Jews and would be quite willing to use it. When the first news of horrible crimes being committed in a little Polish town called Auschwitz filtered back to the ghettos or to countries occupied by German forces, people found it hard to believe. And the well-planned Nazi deception campaign was successful in entertaining the myth that the Jews would be resettled or sent to labour camps, where they would be fed and clothed.

Centuries of submission had taught European Jews not to resist, to obey and to believe in their survival however discriminating the Nazi measures would turn out to be. The lambs ultimately trusted the wolves and their sweet talking. Herein lies the tragedy of Europe’s Jews, and perhaps it may explain why some of Israel’s politicians today have this “We can trust nobody except ourselves” reflex. Israel, the old and new home of Judaism, is seen as the only place where Jews could feel safe. The unwillingness to compromise, the “all-or-nothing” intransigence may have their roots in the Holocaust. Perfect safety in Israel is an illusion of course, because the creation of Israel untied a bundle of other security problems. But this idea may have its origins in the shattered Jewish illusions about mankind after the Holocaust. Many have questioned the possibility of God after Auschwitz, even more have question the idea of trusting non-Jews.

When I was done reading the three volumes of the German edition, I realized that if the Nazis share the main responsibility of the destruction of the European Jews, the widespread and at times virulent anti-Semitism in the past centuries played a crucial factor to model the mindset of both the perpetrators and their victims. An aggravating factor is the fact that the Allied powers fighting Hitler did nothing to stop the Holocaust. The rescue of the Europeans Jews was no strategic priority. For this reason I believe that the Holocaust’s last chapter has not been written yet if it ever will be written. Future generations will judge us on how well we Europeans learned the lessons of an act of unparalleled cruelty, of a crime whose dimensions even Hilberg’s 1000+ pages of scientific analysis can only sketch. They will assess how well we fought anti-Semitism in Europe after Word War II. And how well we fought any other form of discrimination.

Is it appropriate to speak about music in the context of the Holocaust? I should think so. Some thought that after Auschwitz neither poetry nor music would be possible. But such an attitude would hand over victory to the Nazis posthumously. In 1967 Dmitry Shostakovich has written a violin concerto in C-sharp minor that might stimulate your mind to reflect the value of a human life: yours and your neighbour’s:

Paranoid Feelings as the Sun Sets on the Countryside