Hitler's Popularity - The Glue of the Nazi State

 Fascism exploits the popularity of a "leader" to establish its hold over a state. So far, all fascist leaders have been power-hungry, corrupt, hate-filled, racist and indifferent to human suffering. Intelligence is not a prerequisite for a fascist leader -- only the ability to appeal to and mobilize the human sewage that lurks in every society. Fascist leaders are the voice of the embittered and selfish, the hate-filled and social losers. Fascism gives them the opportunity to scream, shout, insult and oppress others. Racism is essential to fascism because it makes even the most pathetic failure "better" than someone else based not on any personal quality but on the basis of some collective identity. 

At the time Hitler was appointed chancellor in January 1933, the Nazi party had obtained just over 33% of the total vote in the most recent national election, that of November 1932.  This made it the largest party in the German Parliament with 196 of 584 seats—but not the majority party.  The next largest party, the Social Democrats, had 121 seats and the Communists 100 seats.  Together, the two leftist parties were more popular than the Nazis, while the splintered centrist parties together had 134 seats, or more than either of the two leftist parties separately, but less than the Nazis. The importance of these figures is to counter the widespread belief that Nazis won overwhelming victories in free elections.  This was not true as the above figures show.  Furthermore, the elections in November 1932 recorded a significant drop in Nazi support compared with the elections that had been held in July 1932. Yet despite having support only from a minority of the population Hitler still came to power.

After Hitler came to power, there were no further elections and therefore no reliable means for measuring his personal popularity with the populace.  Furthermore, from the summer of 1933 onwards, there was no free press, no opposition parties, and no independent trade unions.  In short, there was no public means of voicing dissent or discontent.

Nevertheless, there is a strong consensus among historians and eye-witnesses that Hitler's popularity soared in the early years of his regime as he delivered on his economic promises of eliminating unemployment, stabilizing the currency domestically while at the same time ripping up the humiliating and hated Versailles Treaty with impunity.  

Hitler's popularity then fell during the tensions leading up to the Sudeten Crisis, because the population feared war. When Hitler again got away with aggression without paying a price, his popularity reached new heights.  The same thing repeated itself a year later during the invasion of the remaining portions of Czechoslovakia.

In September 1939, however, the Germans were terrified that the Western Allies would fall on their Western frontier while the Wehrmacht was fighting in Poland, and Hitler’s support fell. When the West failed to respond militarily and Poland was defeated in just weeks with few casualties, Hitler's popularity bounced higher still.  

Nevertheless, the Germans feared war with France. Germany's defeat in WWI and the vindictive policies of France which followed had traumatized the Germans. They feared a repeat of the bloody stalemate that had characterized most of the First World War. After Germany's the stunning victory over France in the six weeks from May 10 to June 22, 1940,  however, Hitler seemed invincible and infallible. His popularity soared to new heights, and after this "miraculous victory" the vast majority of Germans appear to have trusted him no matter what he did.

It was not until the German Army became bogged down deep inside Russia, when casualties started to mount ,and the Allied Air Offensive started to bring the war home to Germany that the mood in the general population shifted.  Stalingrad was the most critical turning point, but it should not be forgotten that the Wehrmacht appeared to recover from Stalingrad and in the summer of 1943 new victories followed. Hitler's popularity was partially restored, although it never fully recovered from the defeat at Stalingrad. Meanwhile the Allied bomber offensive was ramped up, causing increasing casualties, destruction, and hardship.

Yet to this day it is a point of heated — often bitter — debate among historians just how much the mood had swung against the Nazis by July 1944.  There are those who argue that had the Coup been successful, the majority of the Germans would have been relieved.  Most historians disagree, however, and believe that Hitler still had the bulk of the German people behind him in July 1944.  

The point is moot.  Even if "a majority" were on the side of the Resistance in July 1944, there would have been a very substantial minority — tens of millions of people — who were fanatically loyal to Hitler even then. Furthermore, many of these millions were armed and organized in fanatical militias — namely the SA and SS, the later having been transformed into a full-blown military force.

The moral of the story is that the popularity of an unethical dictator doesn’t matter very much because a fanatical minority willing to use force will always be in a position to intimidate and terrorize the majority — unless military force is on the other side.

The German Resistance to Hitler was the subject of my PhD thesis. At the time I was the first Western academic granted access to some military archives and documents in what was then still "East Germany." In addition, I conducted interviews with over one hundred survivors of Nazi Germany, both supporters and opponents of the regime. The research culminated in a published dissertation and, later, an English-language biography of General Friederich Olbricht based on the dissertation. It also inspired me to write a novel about the German Resistance, which was recently re-released in ebook format under the title: "Traitors for the Sake of Humanity." Find out more and read reviews of "Traitors" at the publisher's website: Cross Seas Press.

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July 20, 1944 and the Conspiracy against Hitler

On the 68^th anniversary of the coup attempt by the German Resistance against the Nazi Regime, I’d like to share an excerpt from my novel Hitler’s Demons.

May 1944

Herr v. Rantzow opened the door himself, and Alexandra followed the sound of her mother’s sobbing. In the entryway an obviously distraught and helpless Herr v. Rantzow murmured to Philip, “She hasn’t stopped crying since the news came. Nothing I can say seems to comfort her at all. She’s making herself ill!” For the first time since they had met, Philip and his father-in-law understood one another completely.

Alexandra went down on the floor before her mother and laid her head in her mother’s lap. Her mother bent forward, wrapped her daughter in her arms and sobbed, “Oh, Alix, only you understand. I’ve lost your father all over again. But at least your father had time to marry and have children – they took all that away from Stefan. Stefan’s been killed before he had a chance to live!”

“That’s not true, Mutti,” Alexandra told her gently but firmly. Sitting up, she looked her mother in the eye. “I don’t know anyone who was more alive than Stefan, or who loved life more. That’s why it’s so hard to lose him. But you can’t really believe that so much life and energy and love are really gone? He’s here with us right now – and we’re probably making him feel terribly guilty for causing us so much grief.” Tears were streaming down her face as she spoke, but her voice was steady.

Frau v. Rantzow clutched her daughter’s hands in hers, her lips trembled, and her face glistened with tears as she asked, “Do you really think so?”

Alexandra nodded, “Yes.”

Shortly after dinner, Alexandra took her mother up to bed and stayed with her until she fell asleep. She returned downstairs and joined Philip and her stepfather in his study. They were drinking cognac, and Alexandra asked for sherry. Her stepfather poured, standing in his perfectly tailored suit, even now the elegant diplomat in a winged collar with graying sideburns. “I must thank you, Alexandra,” he admitted as he brought her the sherry. “You’ve been wonderful.”

Alexandra took the sherry in the cut crystal glass and smiled sadly up at her stepfather. “It isn’t me, really. I’m just a bit of Stefan still alive.”

“Nonsense,” her stepfather contradicted, “you’ve been a great help. It’s just all so pointless! This whole stupid war and all the senseless sacrifice!” Herr v. Rantzow’s nerves, kept in check by the need to support his wife, now cracked. His hands clenched around the heavy tumbler until his knuckles were white. “If only the Western Allies would land! Why are they taking so long? Don’t they realize that if they wait too long, the Eastern Front will collapse and the Russians will win the war without them? The sooner they land, the sooner the war will be over!” 

Without giving anyone a chance for comment, Rantzow continued in an angry voice, “You can be sure it’s the damned Americans who are hanging back. They’re so afraid of casualties! Afraid that public support for the war will crumble as soon as the bodies start coming home. You know they ship their dead soldiers home, don’t you?” Herr v. Rantzow asked Philip. Philip hadn’t known; he shook his head. “They’re that rich and that spoiled that they actually collect their dead and send them home all the way across the Atlantic at government expense! What a bizarre people – so spoiled and soft and naïve, and yet so dangerous. Once they land, the war won’t last more than a few weeks. They have more men, armor and ammunition than the Soviet Union, and because they cannot afford a long war, they will throw everything they have at us. I tell you, once the Americans land in France, the war will be over in weeks. If only they had landed months ago!” Herr v. Rantzow’s voice cracked, and it took Alexandra a second to realize he was crying.

She had never seen him cry before, and she hesitated. She cast Philip a helpless glance and then went over and gently laid her arm around her stepfather’s waist. He had dropped his face in his long, elegant hands with the signet ring and he left it there, accepting but not returning Alexandra’s gesture. Between clenched teeth he managed to say, “I’m so sorry, Alix. I’m so sorry Stefan will never know a better Germany than the one he died for.”

…

Alexandra asked Philip to go for a walk with her around Lake Grunewald in the fading light of the long summer day. They took the bewildered family dog with them. The sky was luminous and the stars were coming out; the forest was black. Alexandra could walk neither fast nor far in her condition, but she needed the fresh air. Soon they found a bench and sat down. Alexandra had her arm through Philip’s. “Philip, don’t be angry with me,” she started timidly, “but I’ve started to wonder if Graf Moltke isn’t right after all. I mean, what if we make our coup and then get blamed for losing the war? Won’t all the Nazis then be stronger than ever? Won’t they destroy whatever government we try to establish? I don’t even know what Moltke and his friends  have thought up, do you?”

“I’ve heard some things. There is no one plan, really – just a lot of ideas. That is, everyone agrees we have to have a government based on the Rule of Law – a constitution that guarantees basic human rights such as equality before the law and freedom of religion, association and movement. Almost everyone agrees that we have to have a state based on the fundamental principles of Christianity, such as respect for life and for our fellow man and responsibility toward the weak and poor. But, as you know, the devil is in the detail. There are some people who argue that we need to restore a monarchy, because Hitler’s success demonstrates that Germans need a ‘leader,’ and if they don’t have a hereditary one, they will follow every megalomaniac that comes along. Others want to see American style democracy, and others favor Socialism. Claus is throwing his weight in with the Socialists at the moment.”

Alexandra actually managed a smile, even if it was a sad, weary smile. “The Revolutionary Count – it suits him. Can’t you picture Claus with Robespierre?” Philip looked at her in astonishment, unable to follow her intuition when she gave it free rein like this. “And where does General Olbricht stand?” she asked.

“As so often, we have much the same opinion.”

“Which is?”

“Olbricht told Claus: first act, then we’ll see who’s left over.”

“But, Philip, if my stepfather’s right – if the war isn’t going to last more than a few weeks after the Americans land in France – then why not let them win the war? Why risk the lives of the very best men Germany has? Beck and Tresckow, Olbricht and Uncle Erich – and you? Why not let Hitler sign this merciless Unconditional Surrender an take the blame for the war he started and lost? Why should Beck or Olbricht – who were always against the aggression – be forced to swallow the bitter pill?”

Philip held her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. He understood her thinking. With Stefan already dead, her compulsion to shorten the war – even if only by a single day – had eased. Instead, she saw that he was in a relatively safe staff position and was at greater risk from a failed coup than a marginally prolonged war. Her logic was impeccable, as usual, but he shook his head nevertheless. “First of all, your stepfather underestimates us. The Americans may have endless material resources, but their troops and officers are inexperienced. I think we may be able to hold both fronts for as long as six to eight months after the Americans land – and they haven’t done that yet. So the war could go on another nine to ten months. In that time, we could have lost another half-million men on the front and maybe half that again to the air raids.” He dropped his voice, “And then there are the Concentration Camps and the Death Camps. We’re systematically slaughtering people, Alix – as if they were animals with an infectious disease….” His voice faded in the darkness.

“You mean the Einsatzkommandos?” Alexandra asked.

“No, I mean we’ve built special slaughterhouses for people. The SS is diverting rolling stock – which we desperately need to keep the Eastern and Italian fronts supplied with ammunition and other war supplies – to transport people to these camps. They transport people in freight cars and herd them into large chambers and gas them.”

Alexandra wanted to say: “That can’t be!” – but it was too horrible for Philip to have made it up. “How do you know?”

“Olbricht told me. I don’t know his source. It doesn’t matter. After what I saw the Einsatzkommandos do, it’s impossible to question this. And we have to stop it. Or at least try to stop it. Or maybe just demonstrate before God and the Allies and history that German officers opposed these measures. The coup isn’t just about stopping the war – at least that’s not what it’s about for Olbricht or Tresckow anymore. It’s about taking a moral stand against a regime that is morally depraved. It’s about – if you like – trying to save Sodom and Gomorrah by finding ten just men, who are willing to stand up and be counted – even if it costs them their lives.”

Alexandra gazed at her husband in frightened awe. It was almost completely dark, and his face was in shadow. She could make out the curve of his dark hairline against his high forehead, the glasses hiding his eyes, and the set of his lips. She was frightened and she shivered, but she could not protest. She had set him on this path. She had supported him at every step. What right did she have to lose heart now?

Philip took her hand and entwined his fingers in hers. “Now do you understand why I’ve been so selfish? So reluctant to let you take our child to safety in Altdorf?”

All her nightmares were true. After she left Berlin, she would never see him again. “When?”

“Just as soon as our current volunteer assassin gets access to Hitler.” 

A Suicide-Bomber Targeting Hitler: Axel Baron von dem Bussche

Last week I introduced Marion Countess Yorck. This week I'd like to introduce another survivor of the German Resistance, who had an even more profound impact on my novel An Obsolete Honor: A Story of the German Resistance to Hitler (soon to be released in Kindle format under the title "Hitler's Demons.") I came to know Axel very well, twice spending time as his house guest in Switzerland. He was a witty conversationalist, an insightful observer and commentator on contemporary events, and a haunted man. Few people who met him went away unimpressed.

“The survivors of a failed coup are never its heroes,” Axel Baron von dem Bussche told me the first time we met, but by most standards Bussche was a hero. At the age of 24, while a captain in the German Army, Bussche agreed to carry out a suicide-bombing against Adolf Hitler.

When he made this offer it was November 1943 and the conspiracy against Hitler, headed by former Chief of the German General Staff Ludwig Beck, had already made several unsuccessful attempts on Hitler’s life. Twice explosive devices had been activated in Hitler’s proximity, but in one case the bomb failed to detonate and in the other Hitler got out of range before the device could go off. Opportunities to get explosive devices near to the increasingly paranoid German dictator were few and far between, and the conspirators recognized that Hitler’s insistence on seeing the new officer’s uniform modeled for him personally was a rare and perfect opportunity for an assassination attempt. Under normal circumstances, anyone admitted to Hitler’s presence was first searched for arms, but a man modeling a uniform would have to be fully outfitted with side-arms - and grenades.

Axel Baron von dem Bussche was known to the conspirators as a “reliable” officer – i.e. a man who was a bitter opponent of Hitler. He was also tall, blond, blue-eyed, and good-looking. Furthermore, he was a veteran with multiple wound badges and he had been highly decorated. Bussche had the Iron Cross First and Second Class, and the German Cross in Gold at the time he was asked to serve as a model/assassin; he would later receive the Knight’s Cross. In short, he made an ideal “model.” Bussche was asked if he was willing to carry out an assassination attempt and agreed without hesitation.

Bussche traveled to Hitler’s HQ in East Prussia and prepared for the fateful meeting. The Conspiracy provided him with English plastic explosives and a fuse that could be set to various lengths, but Bussche preferred to use a German hand grenade instead. “I was a lot bigger and stronger than Hitler,” Axel told me bluntly, “and I figured I could hold on to him long enough for a three second fuse to go off. The plastic explosives were too unreliable.”

The date for modeling the uniform in front of Hitler was set: Nov. 23, 1943. Bussche waited impatiently, but the uniform failed to arrive. It had been destroyed in the previous night’s air-raid. Meanwhile, Bussche’s leave had run out. His division was involved in the heavy fighting on the Eastern Front, and as a company commander he was needed there urgently. He could not wait for another uniform to be sent. He returned to duty – and was shortly afterwards so severely wounded that his leg had to be amputated. He was in an SS hospital recovering from surgery – with the English plastic explosives he had not used in a suitcase under his bed - when Claus Count Stauffenberg made his assassination attempt on July 20, 1944.

On that same night, after hearing the news, Axel ate his address book page by page to prevent it falling into Gestapo hands. He also resolved to ask his first visitor to dispose of the incriminating explosives in the suitcase under his bed. Unfortunately, the first person who came to see him was “a young lady” and, as Axel put it, “unthinkable to impose on her.” So he had to wait for a second visitor, this time a fellow officer, who obligingly took the suitcase and threw it in a near-by lake – without asking any questions.

But in Berlin, more and more of Axel’s friends and comrades were being swept up in the Gestapo investigation of the July 20th Coup. Guilt by association was the rule, and over the remaining months of the war, men and women hanged for nothing more serious than giving a friend a place to stay the night, or expressing sympathy with the conspirators. As Axel made sure I knew, I had the opportunity to meet him only because friends and comrades did not betray his name - even under Gestapo torture.

So Axel survived the war, and I will never forget the first time Axel contacted me. I was working for a Washington area consulting firm when one day the phone rang. I answered unsuspecting with the company name and the standard question, “How can I help you?”

On the other end of the line a deep male voice barked: “Bussche. Ludwig Hammerstein says we should meet. I want you to come to dinner on Thursday.” The address and time followed. I really wasn’t given a choice – but I would have jumped at the opportunity any way. I knew who Axel Baron von dem Bussche was because by the time I got that call I had been researching the German Resistance for years; I knew Ludwig Baron von Hammerstein, the son of the Chief of Staff and C-in-C of the German Army in the 1930s, quite well.

That dinner in Georgetown was the start of a long friendship which included many conversations particularly during my visits to Axel’s baroque manor outside of Geneva, Switzerland. Axel had a way of telling stories that kept one breathless – but the laughter was never far behind. By the time I knew him, however,  he not only suffered from severe “phantom pains” in his missing leg, but from a guilt complex. He felt guilty for having failed to kill Hitler – although it was not his fault. And he felt guilty that so many of his friends had died in the war and in the aftermath of July 20th, but he was still alive. Last but not least, he felt guilty for not having done more to stop Hitler’s atrocities. This was largely because Axel was one of the few members of the German Resistance who had actually witnessed the atrocities.

It was the summer of 1942. Bussche, having finally recovered from a lung wound that had kept him in Germany “convalescing” in the position of Adjutant to his Regiment's Reserve/Training battalion in Potsdam, was back on the Eastern Front. He was an Infantry First Lieutenant. One quiet day, a sergeant, one of the company couriers, rode up on a motorcycle. “Herr Leutnant, you better come and see this for yourself,” was all the man said. It was an unusual request but something about the man’s demeanor made Bussche go along with the messenger without question.

When he told me the story, he turned on me at this point and, scowling fiercely, growled: “You grew up knowing about Auschwitz! You know that we murdered millions! But I grew up thinking we were a civilized people – the people of Goethe and Beethoven. I had to stare at what was happening for five minutes before my brain would accept what my eyes told me: civilians were being brought up by the truck-load. The SS made them strip off their clothes – men, women and children – and then climb into an open pit which was already filled with a layer of corpses – some of them still twitching. The SS ordered them to lie face down on the others and then the SS shot them in the back of the head.”

Axel was never the same after this experience, and more than 40 years later he told me that he had given much thought to what he should have done. At the time, he said, he had wanted to rush to his superiors and demand that the Army intervene to stop the SS. But he soon recognized that this was futile. The Army had no control over the SS. Only Hitler could stop the SS – and Hitler had given the orders. So Axel became an even more fanatical opponent of Hitler than he had been before. He was prepared to kill himself in order to kill Hitler. But he did not have an easy conscience. He told me that after much soul-searching he had finally realized that what he should have done was step up to the edge of the pit, remove his officer’s uniform with the many decorations for bravery and recording his wounds, and climb into the pit with the victims.

Axel Baron von dem Bussche was a hero by almost any definition of heroism – except his own.