by Danny Orbach
Beck was deeply disappointed with his army comrades. “Brauchitsch [has] left me in the lurch,” he said in disgust. The Wehrmacht leaders were nothing but “mediocrities, fools and criminals,” and Hitler was no better. The Nazi regime, he confessed to Halder, could never reform itself. In another remark, he declared that he would never participate in “National Socialist adventurous wars.”13 The man who refused to rebel to protect his friend and superior during the Fritsch crisis had undergone a change when exposed to Hitler’s adventurism in the Sudetenland.
Lieutenant Colonel Oster realized that Beck was ready for a revolutionary mutation. Oster visited Beck again and again in Goethestrasse, wrote Nicholas Reynolds, “urging, pleading, persuading. If any one man can be said to have enlisted Beck in the resistance, it was Oster.”14
Now, relieved of his command, Beck was finally free to rethink his former life and principles. He devoted most of his time to military history, and gravitated more and more toward Oster, Gisevius, and Goerdeler. After a few months, in 1939, he admitted that there was no choice, and a coup d’état might be the only way. The word mutiny, it seems, had entered the lexicon of the German officer. Beck’s revolutionary mutation was complete.
It is uncertain whether Beck gave his consent to the coup plans, which were secretly drafted at the time. In the dark, General Halder held long talks with the leading conspirators and forged a secret agreement with Lieutenant Colonel Oster: the moment Hitler ordered the army to invade Czechoslovakia would be the moment to stage the coup d’état.15
5
The Bird and Its Cage:
First Attempt at Coup d’État, September 1938
SEPTEMBER 1938 was a stormy month in Europe. The Sudeten crisis reached its peak, and the tension between Germany, England, and France was growing by the day. The fear of war was spreading throughout the continent. The conspirators, however, were full of hope. On September 5, it seemed that their coup would soon be realized. Hopes were high mainly because of the appointment of Gen. Franz Halder—known for his anti-Nazi sentiments—as chief of the General Staff. Hans Oster, the main strategist and connector of the resistance clique, was certain that the new chief would be a better partner than his hesitant predecessor, General Beck. Halder, after all, seemed determined to prevent a continental war at whatever cost, as he was certain that such a war would bring about the end of Germany. Thus, Oster hoped that a move against the war could develop into a full-scale revolt against Hitler and the Nazi regime. Gisevius was not so certain:
When I rang the doorbell of Halder’s apartment, the master of the house himself opened the door. Even a chief of staff could not be sure of the reliability of his servants. He avoided the usual polite phrase and allusive circumlocutions and plunged directly in medias res. For several hours we talked with what was to me such singular frankness that I involuntarily thought: Isn’t this man the general? . . . My astonishment was boundless on meeting him, for before me sat a colorless, bespectacled schoolmaster, his hair combed back, with somewhat taut features in an inexpressive face . . . The whole impression he gave was that of the so called “little man.” “Hitler had picked out an obedient functionary,” I thought to myself, and I could not understand how others could consider him determined and eager to act.1
Gisevius was pleasantly surprised to find appearances deceiving. He listened to the general attack Hitler more radically than he himself ever had. When, for example, Gisevius raised the possibility that Hitler’s evil deeds were related less to his personality and more to the inevitable dynamics of revolution, Halder cut him short: “That madman, that criminal,” he said, “was consciously steering Germany into war, possibly because of his ‘sexually pathological constitution’ which created in him the desire to see blood flow.”2 Halder made it very clear that he was determined to prevent war by any means, and he even called the Führer a “blood sucker.” Still, he and Gisevius couldn’t agree about timing. Gisevius, probably representing Oster’s position, urged Halder to order a coup immediately. He promised Halder support from senior police and Wehrmacht commanders.
Halder remained unconvinced, and he took Gisevius’s promises and predictions with understandable skepticism. He reminded the younger man that the army itself was in a difficult position, and insisted (correctly) that most young soldiers and officers supported the Führer. No, a coup could not be declared here and now. It could be done only once the regime had been beaten or at least humiliated by an external power. As most officers believed that war would be disastrous, Halder saw the trigger as a Franco-British declaration of war. In such a case, the army could overthrow Hitler and be hailed by the public as the savior of the peace. Many Germans, after all, still remembered the horrors of the Great War, and only the fear of a renewed European conflict could free them from Hitler’s charms. Therefore, Halder concluded, he would delay the order for the coup until the last moment before the war. Gisevius returned to Oster somewhat disappointed, so he was surprised to hear that Halder had instructed the conspirators to plan the coup down to the last detail. When Hitler ordered the army to invade Czechoslovakia, Halder would issue the orders. Instead of Prague, the Wehrmacht would march to Berlin.3
Meanwhile, National Socialist foreign policy was working at full speed, and the invasion of Czechoslovakia was drawing nigh. On August 3, Foreign Minister Ribbentrop wrote with self-assurance to all Reich ambassadors in Europe that “no third side will be so reckless as to attack Germany.” That document indicates that Hitler and his closest associates were unafraid of interventions by Great Britain, France, or the Soviet Union. Czechoslovakia was isolated, they thought, and would be easy prey.4
Oster, Goerdeler, and Gisevius did not agree. They trusted England and France. According to their political reasoning, France could not abandon its Czechoslovakian ally, because that would severely harm its reputation in Europe. They were also certain that Britain, mindful of the balance of power, would not permit Hitler to dominate central Europe. Dr. Hjalmar Schacht, the head of the Reichsbank and a close collaborator of Oster and Gisevius, boasted about his expertise on British foreign policy. He promised his associates that Britain would never let Hitler occupy the Sudetenland unchecked.5 The conspirators knew that only a resolute British “no” to Hitler, backed by a force of arms, might motivate Halder to stage a coup. Oster, though, was not content to wait for British cooperation. He tried to ensure it by sending his own emissaries to London to inform Downing Street of the potential coup. He knew he was involved in treason and that each one of the emissaries would be subject to the death penalty. Still, they were ready to take the risk.6
The first volunteer was Dr. Carl Goerdeler. After his troubles with the Nazis at Leipzig, the authorities were suspicious of his intentions and initially refused to give him back his passport. Goerdeler overcame this difficulty with a ruse: he promised Göring that he would send him reports on the public mood in Britain and France. That covered up the true nature of his mission: to warn leading circles in Britain that Hitler was going to war and that any attempts to appease him would be fruitless.7
With financial help from rich friends and benefactors, Goerdeler could freely travel around Europe and beyond. In Britain, he had to reckon with a sophisticated National Socialist propaganda machine, spreading around the world a glittering vision of the new, peace-loving German nation. Goerdeler’s daughter, Marianne Meyer-Krahmer, recalled many years later,
The National Socialists were masters of propaganda. The “world youth” was invited to a gigantic “peace festival in Berlin” [the Berlin Olympic Games of 1936]. Hundreds of dignitaries came, and honored not only the sport, but also the Führer of the host country. One of the teams even greeted the leaders at the gallery with “Heil Hitler.” The party had staged the games aptly, and the event was really splendid, with sky-illuminating projectors and the first Olympic village built in Berlin, as a meeting place for athletes from all countries . . . The reactions were particularly positive. Upon returning to their countries, the ath
letes enthusiastically reported their impressions from “New Germany”—clean streets, settled social relations, happy people—that was the picture intended to be portrayed through them. The press, too, reported favorably . . . People did not want to understand or guess that behind the glittering image crime and barbarism lurk.8
Goerdeler, therefore, had to calculate his steps carefully. Still, he didn’t just warn his British counterparts of Hitler’s foreign policy, he also took pains to disclose the violence and terror of the regime inside German borders. By doing so, he hoped to convince his counterparts that Hitler was not a legitimate politician who could be parleyed with, but a dangerous adversary with whom no compromise was possible.
Goerdeler had visited Britain in June 1937 and had given a speech at the Liberal Club in London. His host, the industrialist Arthur Young, related later,
Goerdeler impressed us all with his forceful, humorous, and likeable personality; superb moral courage dominated the man. He left no doubts in our mind about the evil things that Hitler and his associates were doing and would continue to do with increasing speed if no checks were applied. He felt that Britain could exert such a check by being more forceful in her negotiations with Hitler and his associates. He pleaded most earnestly for a firm policy in dealing with Hitler as being the only one that Hitler would understand aright; and the only policy likely to retard his evil purposes. We must in all our doings be firm, and call “black black and white white,” as he put it. Any equivocation or appeasement would be interpreted as weakness; would inflame Hitler’s megalomaniac propensities; and would discourage the liberal forces inside Germany who had no illusions about the Hitler regime and who, as Goerdeler contended, were anxious to co-operate with us to find a solution to the Hitler problem.9
One of the dinner guests was a British politician who had arranged for Goerdeler a one-on-one meeting with Sir Robert Vansittart, undersecretary at the Foreign Office and one of the most formidable opponents of appeasement toward Germany. Vansittart agreed to accept a memorandum from Goerdeler and to pass it on to the cabinet, but there the matter rested. Foreign Minister Anthony Eden rejected the memorandum out of deep mistrust for the German conspirators. Like many other British statesmen, he was reluctant to cooperate with subversive politicians from other countries, whose motives and intentions were unclear to him. Consequently, His Majesty’s Cabinet never knew about Goerdeler’s visit.
In April 1938, when the Sudeten crisis was still in its initial stages, Oster was already beginning to envision with his confidants a coup d’état. Goerdeler was sent again to London to secure British guarantees for firmness against Hitler, this time traveling with his wife and daughter. He did not join them, though, on their excursions to Kew Gardens, the British Museum, and Buckingham Palace. Instead, he met again with British politicians, repeating his warnings about the Führer’s real intentions. Now, he also raised the issue of German Jews, whose horrific treatment he had witnessed himself as the lord mayor of Leipzig. The British, he argued, should boycott the Nazi leaders altogether until they reversed their anti-Jewish policy. As Young described, “X [Goerdeler] fears catastrophe. He is greatly perturbed that there is not yet in evidence any strong reaction throughout the democracies, in the press, the church, and in Parliament against the barbaric, sadistic and cruel persecution of 10,000 Polish Jews in Germany. These poor creatures are driven like wild animals, with machine guns behind them, over the Rhine into Switzerland and over the Polish frontier. Ten thousand of these people are in despair.”10
Desperate, Goerdeler even made contact with the Zionist leader Dr. Chaim Weizmann, the future first president of Israel, and submitted a strongly worded memorandum with a “detailed exposé of conditions in Germany.” Weizmann was shocked, and tried to share the document with Prime Minister Chamberlain:
I showed the document to a friend of mine in the cabinet, and asked him to get Mr. Chamberlain to read it. He failed. I then went to see Sir Warren Fisher, one of the heads of the Civil Service, a close friend of Mr. Chamberlain, with a room adjacent to his in Downing Street. I showed him the document, and explained that undoubtedly Herr Gördler [sic] had risked his life several times to accumulate the information it contained. Sir Warren Fisher opened his desk and showed me an exact copy of the document. “I’ve had this,” he said, “for the last ten days, and I’ve tried and tried again to get Mr. Chamberlain to look at it. It’s no use.”11
Goerdeler’s mission ended in failure. Acceptance of his demands would mean a complete volte-face in British appeasement policy, which was unthinkable from Chamberlain’s point of view.12 The prime minister wanted above all to avoid war, owing both to his moral abhorrence of bloodshed and to a more practical assessment of the inadequacy of British military power. He also relied on the professional opinion of the chiefs of staff, that Britain would probably lose if forced to confront Germany.13
Another problem was Goerdeler’s own nationalism. In his talks with Sir Robert Vansittart, for example, on the one hand, he insisted that the Sudetenland was a German territory that must be annexed to the Reich. On the other hand, he implored the British to be firm against Hitler’s attempts to annex it by force. That was unfathomable for the British. If the Sudetenland should be part of Germany, why not give it to Hitler? Why make such a dramatic change in policy, taking risks to support a group of conspirators whose effectiveness had not yet been validated, in order to face a new regime and encounter the very same demands? Alexander Cadogan, undersecretary in the Foreign Office, wrote in his diary that Goerdeler’s demands must be rejected, because they were too close to those of Mein Kampf.14 Goerdeler’s desperate argument that, for Hitler, the Sudetenland was only an excuse for further territorial expansion was also rejected. The belief that Hitler was a rational, though radical, politician with whom business could be done was, after all, the cornerstone of appeasement.
After Goerdeler’s failure, Oster and his colleagues sent many other emissaries, only to face the same replies. Ewald von Kleist-Schmenzin, who carried the most valuable information about the coup, left for London on August 18, when the conspirators were already planning the military operation. Contrary to Goerdeler, who had made more general statements, Kleist told the British explicitly that a military revolt was in the works and that he represented senior generals from the General Staff. Everything, he said, depended on His Majesty’s Government. If it would be firm, Hitler would fall.15 Kleist’s friend British journalist Ian Colvin arranged meetings for him with prominent opponents of appeasement, among them Vansittart and Churchill. But Vansittart was already a marginalized official with waning influence, and Churchill was as yet only a conservative backbencher. Prime Minister Chamberlain met Kleist as well, on August 19, but did not take him seriously. Apart from his considerations already noted, interference in the sovereign affairs of another country was out of the question for him: “I take it that von Kleist is violently anti-Hitler and is extremely anxious to stir up his friends in Germany to make an attempt at his overthrow . . . I think we must discount a good deal of what he says.”16
Meanwhile, Oster continued to apply pressure on Halder. On August 12 (or 26, according to Halder’s version), the conspirators met the chief of staff again. The resistance was represented by Gisevius and Schacht. This meeting, though, was far less pleasant than the first one, Gisevius recounted: “The interview was a stormy one. From the very beginning there was a certain mood of dishonesty. Schacht and I had the distinct feeling that Halder was not as brave as he had been a few weeks ago. For some reason he was looking for a line of retreat . . . It was clear that the chief of staff was trying to convince us that everything might turn out well after all, that the Western Powers might present Hitler with a free ticket to the east.”17
On August 12, the conspirators were exposed to the fundamental weakness of their network. In order to stage a coup, they had to obtain the approval of Halder, who was never really one of them. In order to gain his approval, substantial British cooperation was require
d. The conspirators, thus, were completely dependent on two major power factors outside their own control: they had to convince the British to fundamentally change their foreign policy, and they had to urge the hesitant Halder to act. The resistance network of 1938 was a small circle of friends, no more. This had many advantages, among them an atmosphere of trust, crucial in such undertakings, and relative security from Gestapo informers. The biggest disadvantage was that in order to succeed, the resistance clique had to hope that outsiders, both in Berlin and in London, would do exactly as they asked. And these outsiders, in both capitals, had much more pressing concerns than complying with the wishes of a small group of German conspirators.
A partial solution to this problem was for the conspirators to hedge their bets by expanding the circle of insiders. Particularly, Oster was interested in enlisting more cooperative generals: military leaders who would be not merely cautious partners, like Halder, but full-fledged members of the conspiracy. Such generals might have military forces under their own control, and, if close to Halder, they could apply even more pressure on the chief of staff. The problem of utter dependence on British foreign policy, however, stayed as it was, as it was hard to imagine a revolt without Halder, who was completely dependent on a firm British stand against Hitler. Hence, on the British question the conspirators had no choice but to hope for the best.
