The leadership would continue to fret about Strasser—obsessively, it often seemed—but the threat he posed was more phantom than fact. Strasser did meet with Schleicher and with Hindenburg in January, but he was, to the surprise of all, sincere in his determination to leave the squalid world of late Weimar politics and was not angling for a position in the Schleicher government. As he later explained to a friend, he made his decision to leave the party only after much deliberation and after “my view that we had to participate in the running of the state and appeal to the people with deeds rather than words had been utterly rejected.” His goal was “the coming together of all constructive-minded people, no matter where they come from, on the basis of new ideas in government, the economy and the cultural sphere.” He had no desire to split the NSDAP or make a permanent break with Hitler, but he was “convinced that the time of agitation and of parties is fast disappearing and that the immediate future calls for men who are prepared to come into government with courage and a sense of responsibility” and “who . . . attempt finally to draw conclusions from an understanding of the present time, and achieve results.” It was obvious why Schleicher found Strasser such an appealing possibility.
Had Strasser stayed on and fought for his views, he might well have carried many followers with him, dealing Hitler a serious blow and perhaps leading a truncated NSDAP in a different, less radical direction. But for all his energy and organizational talent, Strasser, in the final analysis, lacked the political toughness and the ruthless will to power for a fight with Hitler. He would continue to haunt the party—there was always a phantom Strasser lurking in the wings—but by mid-January he had exited the stage, bringing his role as the organizational mastermind of the NSDAP to a close.
While the Nazis were focused on the electoral contest in Lippe, Papen was working assiduously behind the scenes to undermine Schleicher. As a first step, he hoped to convince Hugenberg to bring his Conservatives into a Papen-Hitler government. Hugenberg loathed Schleicher and was willing to listen, but he was more than a little skeptical about Hitler—he had painful memories of his previous attempts to collaborate with the Nazi leader. Hitler, he felt, was utterly unscrupulous, a view he expressed to both Papen and Hindenburg. Still, in any new government, preferably one headed by Papen, his price for support was the Ministry of Economics and Agriculture in both Prussia and the Reich. Nothing was settled. Hugenberg continued to have reservations, but he was, Papen felt, definitely in play.
Hitler also tried his hand with Hugenberg at a meeting on January 17. The conservative leader voiced reservations about a Hitler chancellorship, though he stopped short of outright opposition. He did, however, express strong objections to a National Socialist being put in charge of the Prussian Ministry of the Interior, a move that would place the fifty-thousand-strong Prussian police force under direct Nazi control. He also strongly disapproved of Hitler’s demand for new Reichstag elections—elections in which the Conservatives could hardly expect to improve their position. For Hitler, new Reichstag elections were essential. He was confident that new elections, conducted while a Hitler-Papen government held the instruments of power—and coercion—would deliver the necessary majority to pass an enabling law. Such a law would allow him to govern without the Reichstag and also without presidential decrees. It would, in other words, free him from any institutional restraints on his exercise of power. Hugenberg, however, would not be moved, and Hitler left the meeting frustrated.
Still scrambling for traction, Hitler arranged for another secret meeting with Papen. On January 18, accompanied by Himmler and Röhm, he met with Papen at the villa of Joachim von Ribbentrop in Dahlem, a fashionable section of Berlin. Ribbentrop, a wealthy Nazi Reichstag deputy who fancied himself possessed of considerable diplomatic skills (he would later rise to be foreign minister in the Third Reich), had served with Papen in Turkey during the World War, and he was eager to act as intermediary between Hitler and the former chancellor. When the two had met earlier in the month in Cologne, Hitler seemed prepared to drop his demand for the chancellorship and the minister presidency of Prussia and to accept a more modest National Socialist role in a Papen cabinet—maybe the ministries of the Interior and Defense. But over lunch on the 18th, buoyed by the party’s showing in Lippe, Hitler renewed his demands for the chancellorship and the minister presidency of Prussia. Papen replied that he did not believe he had enough influence to overcome Hindenburg’s resistance to a Hitler cabinet, and the meeting ended inconclusively.
On the following day another meeting was arranged for the 22nd. Arriving at the Ribbentrop estate at ten in the evening, Hitler, Wilhelm Frick, Hitler’s advisor in legal matters, and later Göring found Papen, Oskar von Hindenburg, and Otto Meissner, the influential state secretary to the Reich President, waiting for them. Hitler was still adamant about the chancellorship but expressed his willingness to have only two other National Socialists in the cabinet. Frick was to be minister of the interior and something should be found for Göring, but the other positions in the cabinet, Hitler magnanimously offered, could be filled by conservatives acceptable to the Reich President. Papen, who would serve as vice chancellor, found these terms more reasonable than Hitler had previously put forward and felt that Hindenburg might finally agree to a Hitler government. The question of Prussia was left open. Oskar von Hindenburg left the meeting still harboring deep reservations about Hitler, but Meissner was surprised by Hitler’s apparent willingness to make concessions and felt that the terms discussed might be acceptable to the Reich President. Papen agreed. Armed with these terms, he felt that he could now approach the Reich President with a reasonable chance of success.
The meetings at the Ribbentrop villa were intended to be secret, but the press quickly uncovered both, and the Berlin papers reveled in speculation. Rumors swarmed through the government quarter like bats from a cave. Hitler and Papen, of course, denied that anything was afoot, and, of course, no one believed them. Schleicher, who was at last beginning to appreciate the danger he was in, appealed to Hindenburg to grant him permission to dissolve the Reichstag before it reconvened on January 31. Without a presidential order to dissolve, Schleicher faced a certain vote of no confidence. If, on the other hand, the Reichstag could be dissolved by presidential order, he could remain in office and buy time. The effects of his reforms might be felt in the near future. The economy, analysts were now saying, had bottomed out in late summer of 1932, and although improvements in unemployment could not yet be felt on the street, expectations were that there would be a significant uptick in the economy by summer.
On January 23 Schleicher pressed Hindenburg not only for the dissolution order but also a promise to delay new elections indefinitely, a move that was a direct violation of the constitution. With no pressure from the Reichstag and governing by emergency decree, Schleicher could put Germany’s political house in order and await improvement in the economic situation. The Nazis might choose to support the government or, if not, simply wither on the vine of fruitless opposition. Anyway, Schleicher was convinced that Hitler was “on the verge of desperation.” Speaking off the record at a dinner for journalists, he was confident that now Hitler realized “that his party is falling apart under him without his ever seeing it attain a position of power.” With a patronizing smile, he waved away the threat of the Nazis. “I’ll take care of them,” he said confidently. “They’ll soon be eating out of my hand.”
Hindenburg was not so confident. Hadn’t he heard all this before? Wasn’t Schleicher’s plan exactly the same course of action Papen had advocated in December and that Schleicher had so effectively demolished that it led to Papen’s fall? Such a blatantly unconstitutional action, Schleicher had argued then, would provoke an uprising of both the radical left and right that would lead to civil war. In such a situation, the army could not gurantee its ability to prevail. Hindenburg was no keener on the plan now than when Papen had proposed it and needed time to consider his options.
With Hitler’s talks
with Hugenberg and Papen stalled, a new outbreak of trouble with the SA threatened to plunge the NSDAP once again into crisis. Again it was Stegmann. Back in Franconia after his meeting with Hitler, the SA leader showed no sign of having learned his lesson. He openly renewed his feud with Streicher, leaving a frustrated and angry Hitler no alternative but to expel him from the party. Far from being intimidated, Stegmann responded by founding his own “Free Corps Franconia,” taking some three thousand followers—roughly half the Franconian SA—with him. The new paramilitary organization lashed out at Hitler’s policy of legality and at the party bosses in Munich. At an SA rally in Nuremberg on the 24th, Stegmann declared that the party “had missed its historic opportunity of coming to power through legal means”; now it was time for a “more brutal and revolutionary fight.” Stegmann’s call for rebellion struck a chord among disgruntled SA men around the country. Dissident Storm Troopers formed their own breakaway Free Corps groups in the Ruhr, the Upper Rhine, and Hessen. More mutinies were cropping up elsewhere. There appeared a very real possibility that Stegmann’s revolt might sweep the entire country, rending the NSDAP asunder at a critical juncture.
Adding to Nazi anxiety was the party’s continuing financial desperation. Early in the month Goebbels complained about the “bad financial situation of the organization,” noting that the party would have to find ways to economize. Creditors were demanding payment for loans extended over the past year, and membership dues continued to shrink dramatically as did revenues from poorly attended party events. Hitler’s meeting with Schröder was not about money but about politics, and there is little evidence to suggest a sudden influx of funding from business sources. The party’s financial situation was further strained by the all-out campaign in Lippe. With the sources of domestic financing drying up and the party in desperate need of cash, Göring took the extraordinary step of inquiring of an American diplomat about the possibility of securing a loan for the party in the United States.
* * *
With the NSDAP’s fortunes sinking fast, Papen threw Hitler a lifeline. On the morning of the 23rd he met with the Reich President, Meissner, and Oskar von Hindenburg and laid out the case for a Hitler chancellorship. To a reluctant Hindenburg, Meissner argued that Papen’s proposal offered the best way to break the political gridlock. Hitler would at last be saddled with governmental responsibility and would be safely held in check by Papen and the conservative members of the cabinet. Hindenburg listened but remained unconvinced, a skepticism shared by his son. Both still believed if the Schleicher government were to fall, as now seemed inevitable, Papen would be the best alternative.
As late as January 27 Hindenburg was still reassuring associates that he had no intention of naming Hitler chancellor. Many feared—and with good reason—that the Old One would return the dangerously divisive Papen to the Chancellery, a step that virtually everyone from right to left, but especially the anxious army leadership, felt certain would trigger a bloody civil war. So unpopular was the former chancellor that although many in positions of power had deep reservations about the Nazis, a Hitler cabinet actually seemed less dangerous than a second Papen government. The moderate center and right were also dead set against a reprise of the Papen cabinet but took comfort in the belief that Hindenburg would never appoint the “little Bohemian corporal” to head a government. But with Schleicher’s ouster imminent and opposition to Papen (even Papen had come to understand this), Hindenburg discovered that he had little room for maneuver. Perhaps, after all, with the proper precautions and restraints, the time for Hitler had arrived.
Meanwhile, Hitler was in a gloomy frame of mind. Exasperated by his failure to make headway in his various negotiations, he was ready to quit the city and leave for Munich. This sudden change in attitude caught his close confederates by surprise. Those who met him in those tense January days, even those who distrusted or detested him, were often struck by his sense of unwavering confidence, his unshakable conviction that his was the only path to power. Throughout the frenetic campaigning and daily intrigues, Hitler retained an almost preternatural calm. Despite the mounting political pressures, he even insisted on maintaining something of his bohemian style of life. He still rose late, usually around eleven, chatted through the hours, lingered over afternoon tea and cakes at the Kaiserhof café, went to the cinema, and attended the opera.
Through all the ups and downs of the previous years, it had always been Hitler’s unshakable confidence that had boosted the spirits of his lieutenants. Now it was their turn to pick him up. On the 27th Hitler huddled with Göring and Ribbentrop and expressed his soaring frustration with the situation. He was fed up, ready to leave Berlin altogether and return to Munich. Göring insisted that “the situation is far from hopeless” and counseled another meeting with Hindenburg; Ribbentrop offered to arrange another session with Papen. Hitler rejected both out of hand. He had already said “all there is to say to the Field Marshal,” and did “not know what to add.” Only with considerable difficulty were Göring and Ribbentrop able to calm him and prevail upon him to stay in Berlin a bit longer. Finally, and with great reluctance, he agreed to meet that afternoon with Hugenberg. But the interview did not go well. The querulous Conservative leader again raised objections to Hitler’s plans and stated numerous conditions for his support, displaying, in Hitler’s view, “a greed for portfolios out of all proportion to the strength of his party.” The meeting ended with such rancor that “Hitler, very indignant,” announced his intention “to leave for Munich immediately.” Ribbentrop had never seen him in such a state.
That night Ribbentrop met alone with Papen and restated the Nazi position that the only solution that made any political sense was a Hitler chancellorship backed by a strong national front. Hugenberg would be a problem, but perhaps he could be brought around. To his surprise, Papen readily agreed. Papen was “now absolutely in favor of Hitler becoming Chancellor.” This represented, according to Ribbentrop, “the decisive change in Papen’s attitude.” It was, he believed, “the turning point.” Papen was to meet with Hindenburg at ten in the morning. Ribbentrop promised to produce Hitler at eleven.
Papen’s scheme had now reached a crucial stage, and events began to move quickly. On the 28th Hindenburg informed Schleicher that he would not authorize the dissolution of the Reichstag. Knowing that he faced a vote of no confidence when that body reconvened on the 31st, Schleicher submitted his resignation. He had misplayed his hand, assuming until too late that he had Hindenburg’s support, and he had grossly underestimated his erstwhile protégé. It was not until word of the meetings at Ribbentrop’s estate reached him that he fully realized that Papen had hatched a conspiracy to bring him down. By the evening of the 28th, he had tendered his resignation and vacated his office in the Chancellery.
The next morning Papen met with Hindenburg. The Old One at last seemed reconciled to the prospect of a Hitler government, with Papen as vice chancellor and supported by the Conservatives, the Stahlhelm, and other right-of-center groups. Papen then hurried to his appointment with Hitler. But when, just after eleven, he opened his door, he found only Ribbentrop. “Where is Hitler?” he demanded. Ribbentrop feared that Hitler had already departed for Munich. Papen said that he had to be brought back without delay; a breakthrough with Hindenburg had occurred, and a Hitler chancellorship was now definitely possible. Ribbentrop left immediately and discovered from Göring that Hitler had not yet left the Kaiserhof. A quick telephone call, and a meeting with Papen was arranged for the following morning.
At that meeting on January 29, Hitler’s mood improved dramatically when Papen confirmed that he was solidly committed to a Hitler chancellorship and that Hindenburg now seemed prepared to accept a Hitler-Papen government. The two men were able to reach agreement on the composition of the cabinet—all posts but two, the chancellorship and Ministry of the Interior, would be filled by conservatives. Hitler agreed that the Foreign Office, Finance Ministry, and Defense were to be headed by Hindenburg favorites. The
important Ministry of Justice would for the time being be left vacant. Hitler also grudgingly dropped his demand for the minister presidency of Prussia, conceding that position to Papen. As compensation, he suggested that Göring be appointed as Papen’s minister of the interior in Prussia.
Later in the day Papen held talks with Hugenberg, who still vigorously objected to Nazi demands for new elections. But when Papen offered him the Ministry of Economics, a position he had long coveted, he tentatively agreed to participate in a Hitler-Papen government. When one conservative whom Papen hoped to entice into the cabinet voiced his concerns about a Hitler government, Papen sought to allay his fears: “What do you want? I have the confidence of Hindenburg. In two months we’ll have pushed Hitler so far into a corner that he’ll squeal.” To another prospective cabinet minister who voiced reservations, worrying that Hitler was untrustworthy and would cause a world of trouble, Papen responded, “You’re wrong. We’ve hired him.”
Hoping to create a firm right-wing base of support for the new government, Papen was convinced he needed the backing of the powerful right-wing veterans organization the Stahlhelm. He invited the two Stahlhelm leaders, Theodor Duesterberg and Franz Seldte, to join him and Hugenberg at Papen’s apartment. There Papen offered Seldte the Labor Ministry, but Duesterberg, who still smarted from vicious Nazi attacks on him during the presidential elections, wanted no part of a Hitler government. Appointing someone as ruthless and dishonest as Hitler was a recipe for disaster, he argued. Hugenberg intervened in an attempt to reassure him, pointing out that Hindenburg would still be in command of the army, that Papen would be vice chancellor, that he would be in charge of the entire economic sphere, and that conservatives would dominate the new cabinet. “We’re boxing Hitler in,” he boasted. Duesterberg was unmoved. “One night,” he warned, “you will find yourself running through the ministerial garden in your underpants to avoid arrest.”
The Third Reich Page 28
