GERMANY: Velvet Glove

(See front cover)

Down the Wilhelmstrasse, into the German Chancellery went bristle-lipped Adolf Hitler last week. He was led into the former office of the late great Bismarck. Seated at the Iron Chancellor’s old desk, his soft white hands folded before him, sat aged President Paul von Hindenburg. Near him stood smooth, grey Chancellor Franz von Papen and the State Secretary of the Reich, Dr. Otto Meissner.

“Herr Hitler,” said Old Paul gravely, “are you willing that you or some other qualified persons of the National Socialist movement should enter a government headed by the present Chancellor?”

“Excellent,” answered handsome Adolf, “I am not willing, nor are my associates. We wish on the contrary to request the President to entrust us with leadership of the government of the Reich and with the entire state apparatus in full measure.”

“And what power exactly do you imply in that request?”

“Precisely the same power that Mussolini exercised after the march on Rome!”

President von Hindenburg hoisted his old frame half out of his chair:

“Before my own conscience and in the light of my duty to the Fatherland I will not entrust such power to a party which intends to make use of it so one-sidedly ! . . . You are to be then in opposition! I trust you will oppose in a way that will be chivalrous, and I enjoin you in your future course to keep always in mind your duty to the Fatherland and your responsibility to the German people.” Adolf Hitler made no promise, clicked his heels, bowed, left the room. He rushed into conference with other Nazi leaders before returning to his headquarters at Munich. Chancellor von Papen dashed in another direction to a Cabinet meeting. Old Paul took his cane and walked slowly under the linden trees in the Chancellery garden. Thus ended a week of as tense plotting, bargaining and intrigue as Germany has seen since the War. Hauptmann von Schleicher. The most important man in Germany today, the man who foresaw this crisis, brought it on and was confidently prepared last week to deal with it, was not at the fateful interview. Generalleutnant Kurt von Schleicher, Minister of Defense, sat at his desk in the War Office fingering a paper in his desk drawer which he has had drawn up for days. If published, it will declare martial law throughout Germany, and the indefinite suspension of the Reichstag and parliamentary government. Pleasant, unassuming Kurt von Schleicher was born in Brandenburg, not far from Berlin, in 1882. In 1900 he entered the army at the age of 18. in the midst of the great final period of the German Empire. Because of the von in his name and his family connections he was able to get a commission in the Third Guard Regiment as a Leutnant. Thirteen years later diligent Leutnant von Schleicher won a place on the General Staff and a promotion as Hauptmann (Captain). At the outbreak of the War Hauptmann von Schleicherfound himself one of the office staff of brilliant, erratic General Ludendorff. Promotion came slowly. It was 1918 before Hauptmann von Schleicher won his majority. In the bloody days of 1919 German authorities suddenly discovered the usefulness of quiet, unassuming Major von Schleicher. When the remnants of the old army were being reorganized in accordance with the Treaty of Versailles he helped General Hans von Seeckt organize the Reichswehr and quietly took up a post in the Defense Ministry. In 1926 he became Oberst (Colonel), in 1929 Generalmajor, holding down a job that friends thought should satisfy him for the rest of his life—chief of the Ministry’s Organization Department. Apparently he was devoid of ambition, a confirmed bachelor with a ready smile and a fund of smoking car stories. He delighted in large pale cigars and French red wine. He went stag hunting every autumn and celebrated every kill with a carefully chosen dinner. Last year three things happened to change his entire life. To the amazement of social Berlin, confirmed Bachelor von Schleicher married his cousin, became a Generalleutnant, and developed political ambitions.

Paris. Twelve years of unrest, political squabbles, unemployment and riots had convinced him, a soldier since the age of puberty, that there could be neither peace nor security in Germany unless some way was found to re-establish the old German army and return to the form of government that Germans of his generation understand best: a monarchy. Smarter than most of the German military, he realized that neither of these things could come to pass unless France with her army of a half-million men was mollified. He assembled a little camarilla of army officers and aristocrats and last winter began making secret trips to Paris.

Sly von Schleicher knew that he could expect nothing from the French Rightists of the Poincaré-Tardieu-Laval group. He made his overtures to all the French opposition leaders, especially to Radical Edouard Herriot, Socialist Leon Blum. He offered them two definite concessions. If France did not openly oppose his plans he would smother the German propaganda campaign against Poland, France’s ally, and he would break Germany’s close business and financial arrangements with Russia. Also he would hold down Hitler. The rest is open news. Von Schleicher returned to Berlin, set his cabal against republican Chancellor Briining in motion, won over President von Hindenburg and set up his Junker “Cabinet of Monocles” under smartly groomed Lieut. Colonel Franz von Papen, his military subordinate.

Monocles? Junker Cabinet of Monocles is too apt a phrase to discard. The members all act like Junkers; they look as if they should wear monocles. Actually none of them do, and only one member is a true Junker in the narrowest sense: a Protestant landowner from East Prussia, Minister of the Interior Baron Wilhelm von Gayl.

Relations. Sly General von Schleicher had reasons for selecting Baron von Gayl and Lieut. Colonel von Papen. The smooth von Papen married the niece of a French Marquis. He speaks almost perfect French. He has many French friends and much money invested in French concerns. Baron von Gayl is descended from an Andreas Gail of Cologne, ennobled about 1390, one branch of whose descend ants went to France, while the others moved east to Prussia and the Polish border. The French branch of the family still exists; the French army contains a General Baron Jean de Gail who as a colonel served on the Interallied Rhineland Commission. The von Gayls and de Gails remain on the best of terms, a fact which saved the life of one of them during the War.* When the von Papen Cabinet seized control of Germany and effectively doubled the army by taking over the Prussian state police, no French newspaper could approve, but they did publish human interest stories explaining what beautiful French von Papen speaks, how much more Latin than Teuton he looks.

Weimar Obsequies. Last week Junker von Gayl officiated at the strangest birthday party the German Republic has had in its 13 hard-pressed years. As Minister of the Interior he was expected to make the leading address at the annual celebration of the adoption of the Weimar Constitution.It was his duty and he did it. In the Reichstag chamber a polite audience of diplomats, generals, bureaucrats and their wives gazed at a platform banked with mournful purple hydrangeas. Minister von Gayl never once mentioned the word “republic” and to the Weimar Constitution, object of the ceremony, he tossed the following lemon:

“This Weimar Constitution is the only house the German people have to live in and it has proved to be woefully inadequate. The Constitution needs revision.” He suggested four amendments: 1) Establishing an Upper House on the model of the U. S. Senate. 2) Raising the voting age. 3) Revising the proportional system to reduce the number of political parties. 4) Reforming the structure of the Reich to bring about complete harmony between the Reich and Prussian governments. Right Wing papers flatly headlined their stories: LAST CONSTITUTION DAY.

Velvet Glove, There are two ways to play the Dictator. One may adopt the thundering voice and the imperial scowl like Benito Mussolini and his unsuccessful imitator Adolf Hitler, or one may pull the wires of diplomacy with the velvet gloves of a Metternich or Machiavelli. Soft-spoken General von Schleicher prefers velvet gloves. He still smiles and tells jokes, likes to stand shyly in the back row in group photographs of the Cabinet. He dislikes announcements and interviews. Last week when cornered by the New York Times Correspondent Frederick T. Birchall he was careful to doff his uniform for a grey sack suit and a most pacific necktie. Mild as milk were his answers to Correspondent Birchall’s written questions:

“I object to the Reichswehr being thrown into the struggle of internal politics. That I reject any sort of political dictatorship I made clear in my recent radio talk. . . . Can the outside world expect the German people to be content with existing conditions? On the contrary there is reason for wondering that the German people bear their terrible distress so calmly and with such discipline. … A country treated for 13 years as a pariah by the outside world simply had to forfeit the respect of its own people.”

Handling Hitler. In von Schleicher’s devious plans for rebuilding a German army before attempting a monarchist coup, Adolf Hitler and his 400,000 drilled brownshirts loomed large. As General von Schleicher announced fortnight ago, “Such a movement must be made use of”

(TIME, Aug. 15). Winning Nazi support last year, he definitely promised them Cabinet posts should he and other militarists succeed in setting up a Government. What Adolf Hitler was slow in realizing was that von Schleicher never had the slightest intention of allowing Nazis to run the government no matter how many votes they rolled up in a Reichstagelection. Last week Hitler and von Schleicher went to the mat. Handsome Adolf, spurred on by his still more violent lieutenants, held out for complete control of the government. Sly von Schleicher offered him in turn first the Vice Chancellorship, an empty honor, with the Prussian Premiership thrown in; then the Ministry of the Interior and a series of minor posts. Finally possible was a compromise whereby Adolf Hitler might become Chancellor of Germany so long as Kurt von Schleicher remained Minister of Defense with the Nazi storm troops enlisted in the army as unarmed labor battalions. This might have saved everybody’s face but for President von Hindenburg. The old Field Marshal whose mind is a little slow at following the niceties of political intrigue put his rheumatic foot down at handing the Chancellorship to the man who had opposed him for the presidency, the man whom he secretly considers a ne’er-do-well opportunist.

Infelicitous

Formidable Frau Tony Sender, 43, Reichstag Deputy and member of the Social Democratic party, is one of the best known women politicians in Germany. Recently an opponent referred to her in debate as Die Sexappealische Fräulein. Sex-appeal is a fighting word to Spinster Sender. She immediately sued for slander. Last week three white-cravatted Berlin judges rendered their decision: It is no slander in the German Reich to accuse a lady of possessing sex appeal, “but the expression is infelicitous and not in very good taste.”

Frau Sender took the decision hard.

“This is a curse!” she shouted. “I am outraged!”

*In the early part of the War one Quartermaster Henriet of the French Luneville Dragoons led a cavalry patrol on reconnaissance in the Vosges Mountains. They suddenly found themselves miles behind the German lines completely cut off from their own troops. All but five were killed or captured. The five hid safely in the forests, and there for two and a half years they stayed. In time other French stragglers reached them until there were 15 men in the band. They waged a little war of their own, hiding by day, raiding German supply trains by night for food to keep from starving. One of their number finally betrayed them. The 15 guerillas were captured, court-martialed and sentenced to death, for not only had they killed a score of German soldiers but military authorities imposed the death penalty automatically on enemy soldiers who passed more than a fortnight behind the lines without surrendering. An orderly read out the names: “Henriet, Quartermaster of the Luneville Dragoons, son of M. Henriet & Mme nee de Gail.” A German officer sprang up to demand if Quartermaster Henriet was related to the von Gayls of East Prussia. He was. The whole case was reported to the Kaiser by the Grand Duchess of Baden, friend of the family, and the sentences of all 15 men were commuted to internment in a prison camp.