The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  Adolf let the noise die down again, his face thoughtful now. “When our party consisted of only seven members—” He stopped and fished for a moment in the pocket of his suitcoat. Then he held up a tattered card and waved it at them. “Here it is. German Workers’ Party membership card number seven.” He looked at it curiously. “And it is issued to one Adolf Hitler, resident of Munich, Germany.”

  People smiled and laughed at that. It was a clever move, which Hans and Adolf had not talked about. Adolf put the card back in his pocket. His voice was strong again now and filled with passion. “But even with only seven members, our party had two principles that we vowed we would never abandon. First, it would be a party with a true ideology, an ideology based on core values and principles that must not change. And second, we vowed that eventually, our party would be uncompromisingly committed to the German Volk first, last, and always.”

  More shouts and applause. Volk was an interesting word. Other languages typically translated it as “the people” or “the nation,” but its meaning was broader and deeper than that. It connoted the uniqueness of the German people, almost as if they were a tribal community, held together by blood and soil. The concept stirred deep passion in the hearts of most Germans.

  “And,” Adolf roared, emphasizing each word by punching his fist into the air, “that our commitment to the Volk would continue until our party became the one and only political power in Germany.”

  That shocked the crowd a little, but only for a moment. Several leaped to their feet and began stomping and clapping. Adolf didn’t wait for the noise to die out. He leaned forward and shouted into the microphone. “Does that sound naive? Even mad, perhaps? Seven men saying they would become the one and only political power in a large and complex nation? Of course it does. But what drove that dream, that vision, if you will, was one simple concept. And it was found in our name. The German Workers’ Party. Later we expanded that name into the National Socialist German Workers’ Party. Please note that the word that we did not change was Workers. And who are the people?” He leaned forward and shouted it at them. “YOU, my friends! You are the people. You are the ones that we serve. You who are the working classes, you are the ones who toil in the fields and farms of the Fatherland, you are the ones who keep the railroads running and the power plants generating, you mine the coal that heats our homes and fuels our factories.” He tipped his head back and bellowed it out. “YOU ARE THE VOLK, MY FRIENDS. YOU ARE THE ONES THAT WE SERVE!”

  Everyone shot to his or her feet now. They shouted and screamed and yelled. They pounded their hands together and stomped their feet so furiously that the whole building seemed to shudder with excitement.

  Hans pulled his eyes away from the crowd and looked to the table where his family was sitting. He was pleased to see that they were all on their feet too. Even Emilee and Paula were clapping wildly, their eyes shining with excitement. Landra was shoulder to shoulder with Ernst, her head tipped back and shouting with him. Wolfie and Ernst were stomping up and down in rhythm with the clapping of their hands.

  Adolf stepped back from the podium. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his forehead and then dabbed it around the corners of his mouth. He turned and looked back at Rudolf and Hans and flashed them a wide grin. Then the grin vanished again as he turned back to the crowd and waited for them to quiet and return to their seats.

  “Do you know what they called us back in those early days?” he asked, his voice conversational now. “They said we were fanatics. That we were crazy, out of touch with reality. And do you know what our answer to that was? Of course we are fanatics, because Volk are fanatics. They are fanatic about their families. They are fanatic about the Fatherland. They are fanatic about justice and equality and freedom.”

  The crowd was reacting again but remained seated for now. Adolf’s voice dropped once more. “You see, from the very beginning, we knew that if we were to get the loyalty and confidence and dedication of this nation, we first had to go where those virtues are to be found in the greatest abundance, and that is among the people themselves. Therefore, on this day of what some are calling our resurrection, let us join together as one voice and shout out again our old battle cry.” He stiffened to attention and thrust out his arm in the Nazi salute. “Hail to victory for our National Socialist Party! Sieg Heil!”

  Adolf motioned with both hands for the people to stand again. As they did so, he stiffened to attention and again raised his arm in the Nazi salute. “Hail to victory for the Fatherland.”

  The whole audience came to attention too, everyone following his example. Standing stiff as ramrods, each with an arm up at a forty-­five degree angle, fingers pointed straight out, they roared back, “Sieg Heil!”

  “Hail to victory over the cowards and sycophants who say you must be content with your lot in life.”

  “Sieg Heil!”

  “Hail to victory!” Adolf screamed, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth.

  The hands were up everywhere. “Sieg Heil!” They shouted it full throat, causing the very rafters to tremble. “Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!”

  February 27, 1925, 8:55 p.m.—Bürgerbräukeller, Munich

  Hitler wiped the perspiration from his forehead again and poured himself a glass of water from a decanter on the podium. The people had returned to their seats, subdued now, almost as if they were exhausted from the intensity of the previous moments. When he finished drinking, he set the glass aside and then, to Hans’s dismay, pushed his notes to one side, too. They had talked about this. Hans was as diplomatic as possible, but he had pushed Adolf pretty hard about sticking to the things they had discussed. But Adolf’s mind was like a game of billiards, bouncing back and forth and knocking balls every which way.

  “You can put money on the likelihood that the government will have someone here to listen to you, Adolf,” Hans had warned yesterday. And Rudolf had backed him up on this.

  “If they think you’re talking revolution again,” Hess had said, “they’ll shut us down faster than a rabbit going down its hole.” Adolf had grumped some but finally agreed.

  Hans shot Rudolf a look now. He nodded, looking worried too.

  “My friends,” Adolf began, “I mentioned our commitment to the ideology held by our party. I should like to expand on just what that ideology entails for those of you who may not be familiar with it.”

  Hans relaxed a little. This was according to script, and he understood why Adolf had put his notes aside. This material was so second nature to him that he had only written down a few lines of one or two words each. He didn’t really need anything more than that. This was the core of his passion, and he had spoken on it many times.

  “Actually,” Adolf was saying, “I have written this all up in my life story, which I dictated while I was in prison. I have called it Mein Kampf, for it chronicles the struggles that began early in my life and led to where I am now. Unfortunately, though, it is at the press at present and will not be released until later this year. It should be in bookstores everywhere by early fall,” he added. “It is about four hundred pages long and will sell for only twelve marks. I think you will find it quite stimulating.”

  Hans winced. That was a pretty brazen pitch for one’s own product. Why not just come right out and say, “Please buy my book”?

  “But,” Adolf went on, “I shall summarize quickly the gist of what I say there. Our whole ideology revolves around three interconnecting, interdependent concepts: Land. Blood. Power.

  “Let me begin with land. Currently we live in a defeated and chaotic Germany. Many say that is because of the war. I say they are fools. War does not weaken a people; it strengthens them. Part of the reason for our current state is that we are no longer a nation that includes all of the Germanic peoples. Centuries ago our Teutonic ancestors created one vast Germanic nation-state. And it was glorious and powerful, the First Reich, if you will. Tha
t was back in the days of King Charlemagne.

  “Now look at us,” Adolf said in disgust. “Millions upon millions of Germans live in lands we no longer control. We have large Germanic populations in Poland, in Czechoslovakia, in Hungary, in the Sudetenland, in the Baltic States, and even in parts of Russia. The Allies have recently pushed us out of the Rhineland, saying they need it as a buffer to prevent us from further invading France. France and Belgium now control the Ruhr Valley. Austria is clearly a Germanic nation, and yet they are not united with us. And you wonder why we are weak? One of the goals of the National Socialist Party is to eliminate the inequality between the number of our people and the amount of living space we have.”

  That created a buzz of conversation across the audience, but it was mostly subdued.

  “The second reason that we now live in a weak and pitied nation is because the bloodlines of the German race have been polluted and diluted over the centuries. This is especially true in the last century due to the formation of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The royal families of the Austrian Habsburg united with the Hungarian monarchy in a degenerate quest for wealth and political power. In doing so, Austria introduced the blood of two inferior races into the pure blood pool of Teutonic Germany. Those races are the Slavic peoples of Eastern Europe and the Jews, who are now everywhere among us in Europe. This pollution of the blood pool has come from war, rape, intermarriage, prostitution, and sexual promiscuity.

  “From the beginning of creation, there have been the weak and the strong races. And history abundantly testifies that when the two mingle their bloodlines, the weak nations do not become stronger. Just the opposite is true. The stronger nations are weakened. Scientific evidence now clearly shows that of all of God’s creations, nature’s favorite child, as it were, is none other than the Aryan race. It is on the Aryans that Providence conferred the right of being masters of all other peoples because of their clear and unquestionable superiority of blood and breeding. All of human culture, all advancements in the arts, sciences, philosophy, and technology are almost exclusively the creative product of Aryan peoples. Aryans are the Prometheus who stole fire from the gods and gave it to mankind.”

  Hitler stopped and took another sip from his glass of water. “But, you ask,” he continued, “how is it that the Aryan peoples have accomplished so much and become so supreme? The answer is inescapable. There are two reasons. First, they kept their bloodlines pure. Second, they made inferior races subservient to their own. If that is so, then you may be asking yourself, why do we, an Aryan nation, now find ourselves in such deplorable circumstances? The answer is undeniably clear. The Aryan men gave up the purity of their blood through intermarriage and by allowing their women to be impregnated by inferior peoples.”

  Adolf had the audience with him now. Hans could sense that. They were nodding and leaning forward in their seats, listening intently. This was something they believed in, and he was stating it so simply and with such clarity that it was really clicking with them. Don’t forget your best line, Adolf, Hans thought. Hans had suggested that he underline it, which Adolf had, but now he wasn’t looking at his notes.

  But once again, his friend was ahead of him. Adolf leaned forward, gripping the pulpit with both hands. “My friends, I say with all the power of my soul that the National Socialist Party adheres strongly to the concept that the Germanic peoples are currently the highest species of humanity on this earth. And we will maintain that position as long as we pay as much attention to our own bloodlines as we do to the bloodlines of our dogs, cats, and horses.”

  He said something else, but it was totally lost in the cacophony of sound that erupted all around them. Someone spontaneously snapped to attention, saluted in the direction of the podium, and shouted, “Sieg Heil!” Others close by instantly joined in, and it quickly spread through the hall. “Hail victory! Hail victory!” But this time, Hitler raised both hands and motioned for them to wait. It took a few seconds, but it quickly died out again. Not waiting for the crowd to totally quiet down, he went on.

  “I said earlier that I would talk with you about the third element of our ideology, namely, power. I know our time is rapidly passing, so let me say only this much. I shall quote two of our great Germanic philosophers to make my point. The first is Heinrich von Treitschke.” He consulted his notes. “He says this: ‘Martial glory is the basis for all political virtues. War is not only a practical necessity; it is also a political necessity. The concept of a State implies the concept of war, for the essence of the State is power. That war should ever be banished from the world is a hope not only absurd, but profoundly immoral. It would lead to the atrophy of many of the essential and sublime forces of the human soul.’”

  “Does that shock you?” Hitler asked, looking around at the faces surrounding him.

  It shocked Hans, because he saw that Adolf was no longer reading from his notes. But he also saw that Adolf’s words had shocked quite a few others. Hans swung around to look toward the table where Emilee and the others were sitting. He was not surprised to see that Emilee’s eyes were round with dismay. When their eyes met, she shot him a look that clearly asked, “Did you write that for him?” Hans looked away quickly, but not before he gave her a little shake of his head.

  Hitler went on. “If you are shocked by such blunt realities, then let me add to your consternation. Let me read you something from Friedrich Nietzsche, another one of the great thinkers of our time.”

  Hans groaned inwardly. There had been no Nietzsche quote discussed either. He looked away as a hush fell over the hall. Even the crowd seemed to sense that this was not planned.

  “Some would strenuously object to Treitschke’s portrayal of war,” he started. “They would say that war is grossly immoral. Listen to what Nietzsche says. This is not a direct quote but a summary of his concepts: A genius with a great mission in history is above the laws of normal morality. Why? Because he will, by virtue of his genius, bring to pass the greatest good for society. Therefore, one cannot ask these Great Masters of history to be bound by the petty morals of other men. These Masters must, in some ways, have the conscience of a beast of prey. They will not be overly troubled when war forces them to attack and wreak havoc on others. War brings with it a fearful succession of murder, arson, rape, and torture, but the Leader of Men cannot let these trivialities deflect him from doing what is best for the progress of mankind. He finds peace in his soul from the importance of what he does as he commands the destinies of men. Of what importance are treaties to him? Or the people’s idea of what is right or wrong? These will only hold him back from doing the greater good that is his destiny.”

  Hans was staring at his hands, which were folded in his lap. Rape, murder, and torture are trivialities? He can’t let them deflect him from his greater duty? No wonder Adolf hadn’t let him and Rudolf see this part.

  Hitler was still talking. “I shall give you an example, which proves my point. In 1918, the Second German Reich ended and we became a German Republic, a so-called democracy. And the men who stepped forward to lead it claimed to be moral men. They said they had the interest of the people at heart. They said they were only doing that which is for our good.” Again he slammed his fist down against the podium and the sharp crack made people jump in alarm. “Do you believe them?”

  “No!” several shouted out.

  “They have robbed us blind!” called another.

  “Do you believe them when they say they are for the people?”

  “No!”

  “Have they stopped squeezing you for every drop of your blood?”

  “NO!”

  “Are you better off than you were under the Second Reich?”

  “No! No! No!”

  “In reality, it is money that drives our rulers today.” Adolf shook his head, disgusted. “In reality, they serve the rich and the powerful who care not one whit for the plight of the people. They care only for what m
aintains them in their palaces and villas, where they eat off of golden plates and drink champagne from crystal goblets and eat caviar that costs more than a working man makes in a day. So I ask you again: who do you want to rule over you? The moralists, or the Masters?”

  “The Masters!”

  “Of course, the Masters,” Adolf roared back. “And that is what we in the National Socialist Party stand for. Our ideology gives us the vision, but only when we gain power as a political party sufficient to seize power from those who now grind our faces in the muck can we make that vision the new reality.”

  Again everyone shot to his or her feet. The noise was deafening. Hans had his head in his hands and he stared at the floor. He kept saying over and over to himself, like a litany, “Don’t say revolt. Don’t talk about overthrowing the government. Don’t even hint at another uprising.” But even as he said it, he knew that Adolf had already scattered their agreed-upon discussion points to the wind. And who was there to retrieve them now?

  “The government will not like this talk,” Adolf went on when the noise began to subside. “They have told us to be quiet. But can we do so in the face of so vast a list of injustices?”

  “No!”

  His right arm came up. His index finger was up and his thumb was cocked like the hammer on a pistol. “But I say to them, we will not capitulate! We will not abandon the principles that form the core of our very existence. Our government lines up those who dare to raise a dissenting voice against injustice and oppression and says to them, ‘Raise your right hand and pledge that you are believers in our cause, and you shall live.’ But the National Socialists will not say that we believe. Rather we will say, ‘We shall fight!’ We shall fight until we have pulled down every trace of corruption and greed and have raised the banner of the swastika over the entire land.”