by A G Mogan
“If that’s your condition for teaching me how to stare people down, then go for it,” I add, looking at my visibly relieved friend. “I guess there is no harm in that. What must I do?”
Hanussen asks for the date and time of my birth, and other similar questions. Then he retreats to his work desk, where for half an hour, he draws lines on a large sheet of paper, writes notes, and adds odd symbols. After completing this mysterious operation, he gazes at the scribbled paper for another quarter of an hour.
I am about to lose my patience when he approaches and asks me to take a seat at his table. Without words, he extends his arm as a demand to look at my palm, and then takes my left hand into his. He looks at it in silence.
This whole affair is starting to get on my nerves and I fidget in my chair.
“It shall be my profound pleasure to teach you some of my powers, Herr Hitler,” he says at last.
Thank goodness, as I was about to stand up and leave.
“That is quite a shift in your attitude. What made you so … willing?”
“Your birth chart. Your palm.”
“Is that so?” I can’t restrain my face from contorting in a smirk. “Could any human being learn this?”
“This?”
“Well, this … mesmerizing of the masses.”
“Every normal human being, whose eyes gaze brightly into the world, can attain the power of … mesmerizing, as you prefer putting it. Yet virtuosity in this area can be attained only by a handful. So, yes, anyone can learn this, but that is not the right question, Herr Hitler.”
“What is the right question then?”
“Should any man learn this? This one is the correct one.”
“And what would your answer to that question be, Herr Hanussen?”
“My answer would be negative.”
“Why is that?”
“Because, used in the wrong way, it can become a demonic tool.” This time his gaze flushes my body with goosebumps.
Being most curious as to what it was that he saw in my chart and palm, which made him regard me differently, I demand this knowledge of him.
“All right, then,” he agrees. “At the time of your birth, the sky looked remarkably favorable. This particular arrangement of the stars happens once every few hundred years.”
My eyes are glistening and I can barely hold back a smile. I urge him to explain further.
“You were born under two powerful stars, Rukbat and Denebola. Rukbat is the star that has been walking the path of the underworld and has now emerged to be visible in the world of humans. It will bear gifts to you from the land of your past, your family and your genetics. It is your gift, the jewel or the treasure, which your ancestors handed you at your birth. This star is a theme in your life and it helps you to build your philosophies, and can at times, take on a vocational pulse.”
What I hear is astounding. How in the world can a man, who met me but briefly, know that I have the duty to avenge my ancestors? How in the world is it possible that something can be written in the sky, when I have only learned it through hardship? Something I came to believe in only because of what my spirit dictated to me … and this man … this man knows it only by looking at my palm or at his scribbles on that damned paper?
Flabbergasted. This is the only word I can use to describe my current state. It is my turn to stare at Hanussen, and I do so with unflinching will.
“Shall I go on?” he asks, without averting his eyes from the paper.
“Please, do.”
“To have Denebola in such an important position on the day of your birth adds to your life the element of difference, seeing the world differently in some way. This may have very good results or lead to a great deal of success, but generally, this success will be on the edge of the establishment, out of step with the main point of view. Or it could have a negative impact, implying that you are not open to the views of the collective and tend toward dictatorial attitudes. Most of the time, this leads to revolution or even war, if the person born under this influence has a powerful position within the state. You will move, think and act in a different direction from that of the establishment.”
“You see, Hoffmann, see? Isn’t this incredible?”
“I must be honest,” Hoffmann says, “I never quite had it with this … so-called science … but even I must admit it sounds pretty astonishing … ”
“Go on, please!” I urge Hanussen.
“Arcturus is another star present at your birth. It embodies the symbolism of guarding, learning, teaching, and leading. Leading and protecting people, as they embrace a new life style. One who can lead the way, one who has the vision or the spirit to take the first step. Fortunate and successful events will occur when you stretch yourself and take a leadership role. This leadership can be in your thinking, your ideas, or your actions. And, by having the courage of your own convictions and taking a lead role, you will find success.
I stand up to pace the room, as enthusiasm invades me, rendering me restless. I listen while Hanussen continues.
“A Royal star, Fomalhaut, represents a trial or a temptation through which the individual must work, before true success can be achieved. It can be a rocky road, with many potential pitfalls or areas where the individual can fall from grace. Being one of the Royal stars, it contains charisma. With Fomalhaut rising alongside Mars, your actions and what motivates you is driven by ideals and dreams. These dreams can express in political fanaticism or in an artistic way. Always with this star, it will be success.”
“Write it down, Hoffmann, write it all down. I should like to read it again, later,” I demand and he complies. “I always believed in stars, Herr Hanussen, in stars and in goddesses.”
“Ah well, you and I, both.”
I begin to feel accustomed to this strange, otherworldly man. Even more so, I begin to like him.
“Vega, or the Orpheus’ Lyre, is rising alongside your Mercury. Your voice, interests and writing are all touched with a drop of magic, for Vega is a most beautiful and bright star, and through its connection to Orpheus and his lyre, is linked to magic and divine spells. It is full of charisma and speaks of one who has been touched by the other world. Thus, Vega gives you creative, mysterious skills that can be used for artistic, spiritual expression or in a negative way, as a tool of deception. This charismatic energy is focused into your interests, ideas and communication skills. To you, speech and the human voice, are instruments to be played well.”
“You see, Hoffmann, the stars knew even about my voice! My voice! How can you doubt this science, when it tells you what even an old gypsy witch would have failed to tell you?”
I continue to wring my hands in excitement, and then turn toward the astrologer.
“I must confess, Herr Hanussen, I am a very superstitious fellow. There are certain numbers or dates that I feel are lucky and others that are totally baleful. Even my speeches … I speak only at dusk. For some reason, only at that time do I feel I can draw on the power of my words, only at that time do I feel the Goddesses of History and Eternal Justice descending upon me. And Christmas … upon my soul … it is the worst, most wicked and utterly hostile period of the year. Surely, it is due to the connection it has with the Jews!” I say this with intensity and notice a strange, derisive look on Hanussen’s face.
“You and I, Herr Hitler, share the same blood,” he whispers, as if disclosing a great secret. I look at him quizzically, wondering what he means, but don’t get to ask for one, as he resumes his cold, hard face and continues to interpret my horoscope.
“With Menkar rising alongside your Mars, your actions and what motivates you are driven by the tides and rhythm of the collective. The lynch party, the reckless investment, the witch hunt, the popular political issues, all or any of these, could sweep you up in their tide and take you along for the ride. The positive side of this combination is, of course, the noble cause, the just cause. The difficulty for you is to learn to distinguish between that which is damaging an
d that which is good. Use your intuition wisely; and above all, question your political, social or personal motivations to ensure that others are not harmed by your actions.”
“The harm has already been done … by the others. It is only natural for karma to be allowed to work through me … the karma of the Aryans, which will engage in a race struggle to the death against the ape-men.”
A brief moment of silence swallows the room and we all look at each other, trying to grasp our thoughts. This meeting seems to float in a sea of mystery and spirituality. It feels strange, to say the least.
Hanussen breaks the silence first. “Facies is the reason why I decided to take you on as my student.”
“How do you mean?”
“Facies, or the Face of the Archer. I also have this star in my birth chart. It is the penetrating stare of a lethal weapon. It is one of the most difficult and possibly most violent bodies in the heavens. It gives a penetration of action that has no regard for others and can, therefore, make a great leader or a dictator. But, I must warn you. Facies can be cruel and ruthless, and its darkest shadow is the evil of war.”
“You mentioned war before,” I say, looking dreamingly through his window again.
“Yes. It seems to appear quite a lot in your chart. And it is not the only thing I must warn you about. Another star is particularly unfavorable here: Algol, or The Head of the Beast. The Arabs called this star The head of the Demon, and considered this a female demon, the wife of the Devil. The Chinese called the star Tseih She, which in translation means Piled-up Corpses. It is associated with war, slaughter and mass murder. It is also associated with the suppression of all male sexual pleasure and embodies everything that men fear in the feminine. This star represents a strong, consuming passion, which may devour you with anger and rage. Algol is rising alongside your Sun, which indicates that you are seen as a person who is passionate to the point of destruction. It indicates fanaticism. Your passion and your intensity will know no limits.”
“Germany is my great passion, Herr Hanussen, and I see no possible harm coming from looking after and protecting this object of my passion.”
“Fanaticism, on the other hand, breeds only disaster.”
With Hanussen’s last words, I plunge into silence. What does he know about fanaticism? As far as I am concerned, it brought me only advantages so far. I am where I am today only because of my firm belief in my destiny. How many men out there can raise themselves up so high, relying solely on their willpower and faith? How many have done so with only the help of their own intellect? There was that time when only Dame Poverty and Misfortune accompanied me daily. Who helped me then? Absolutely no one and nothing, except my sheer faith and fanatic passion. Fanaticism breeds only disaster. It will for the one who believes so.
“It was a most memorable meeting, Herr Hanussen,” I say, wiping my hands off. Lately, I am increasingly hypochondriacal, carrying as many as three handkerchiefs at a time. “When shall we start the lessons?”
“Whenever it suits you.”
We settle for two meetings a week, with me calling him a few hours ahead. He agrees reluctantly, probably not being accustomed to others dictating his agenda. But he must understand, I do not accept offers, I only make demands. This, too, has probably helped in shaping me as the man others revere.
I grab my friend and head for the door.
“Herr Hitler?” I hear Hanussen calling on my way out.
“Yes?”
“November. The uprising. It will fail.”
I ask Hoffmann to wait for me in the car. Looking at the floor, I breathe in and out repeatedly trying to control my temper, but to no avail. I turn about to face a calm-faced Hanussen and fly at his throat.
“What do you know about the putsch?” I roar, foaming at the mouth and clenching his neck.
He brushes my hand aside and smooths his collar. “Only what the stars have shown me.”
“Liar! You couldn’t have possibly seen this!”
“And why not? I’ve seen all the other things, haven’t I?”
“Only a handful of men know about this! And they are my most loyal! There is no way they would have betrayed me!”
“They haven’t.”
“Are you a spy? Are you a communist? What are you? Who are you?” I growl, darting at his throat again. He pulls back, sitting erect.
“Herr Hitler, if we are to work together, we must have complete trust in each other. Earlier, I took the liberty in analyzing the forecast for your immediate future and I saw in the month of November an extremely high predisposition for rebellion on your chart. I measured it and saw a disastrous outcome. I saw death. Not your own, but death nonetheless. It will fail.”
I say nothing more and dash to his work desk, grabbing the scribbled papers from it and tearing them to pieces.
“You must keep your mouth shut or my men will shut it for you, do you hear me?” I spit out before storming from the house and into the street.
My pending putsch will not fail! I scream inside my head. My willpower alone, my very fanaticism will ensure its success!
And yet here I am, thinking of Hanussen from behind bars.
It takes Hess an entire month to finally contact the astrologer by telephone. He expresses his disappointment at not being able to visit me in prison, as he is touring the country, holding his psychic shows in almost every big city.
However, in four short days, an envelope from him reaches the gates of Landsberg prison. With my hands trembling in anticipation, I rip open the envelope and pull out the letter. As I unfold it, my eyes widen and my heart begins to race. In his unmistakable manner, only one short sentence has been dashed off on the white paper.
The dawn of Christmas shall find you dining among friends.
Christmas? A favorable time for me? Could it be? The words shock me and I almost tear the paper to pieces.
But then, taking a deep, calming breath, I resolve never to question Hanussen’s words again. Only a few short months, I whisper. The Goddess of History shall acquit her darling once more.
Tears run unbridled down my cheeks. Christmas shall find me dining among friends.
And then, the hardest struggle of all will begin.
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