‘How could this happen, Benno? How could Hindenburg go along with this violence? How could he congratulate that terrible man? If all those people were traitors, why weren’t they arrested and brought to trial, the way things are supposed to happen in Germany? And General von Blomberg falling in line like that? It’s unbelievable. It’s just unbelievable.’
‘What was it Hitler said, Gretl? Read it to me again.’
‘Let’s see, where …’ She scanned down the page. ‘Here it is. Speaking before the Reichstag, the chancellor said, “If anyone reproaches me and asks why I did not resort to the regular courts of justice, then all I can say is this: In this hour I was responsible for the fate of the German people, and therefore I became the supreme judge of the German people. Everyone must know for all future time that if he raises his hand against the German state, then his lot is certain death”.’
‘My God. Think of it, Gretl. He proclaims himself the law, and Hindenburg and the army get behind him. Who could ever have imagined they would sell their souls so cheaply? They obviously have their own political reasons. I understand that. But they’ve just signed a pact with the devil.’
‘But how could it happen?’ she said again. ‘Did we do this? Did we let this happen?’
‘I think we did,’ said Benno. ‘If we didn’t bring it about, at least we stood by and let it happen. We watched as lies took the place of truth. And we stood by and let power take the place of justice. We were content …’
‘No, Benno! No! We were never content!’ said Margarete. ‘I wasn’t content. I don’t accept that.’
‘But, Gretl, look here. As a people we let it come to this. We saw it coming, didn’t we? We talked about it. We’ve known for a long time who Hitler is. And if we didn’t know, we should have.’
‘But could we have stopped it? How could we have stopped it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Benno. ‘Maybe we couldn’t have. There’s something in people. A man like Hitler, he can find the vein of evil in people, and mine it. He follows his basest instincts, and when he does, we give ourselves permission to do the same. He tells us his malevolence is strength, and we believe him because it is convenient, and we follow his lead.’
‘Remember what Goethe said about the Germans?’ said Margarete.
Benno knew exactly the quote she meant. ‘I have often felt a bitter sadness when I think of the German people; we are so estimable as individuals and so dreadful in the collective. But, you know, Gretl, I don’t think it’s just us Germans. I think every people on earth gets their chance at collective evil. And history tells us very few can resist.’
And It Didn’t Stop There
Willi went for an early supper with Margarete and Benno Horvath. They met at a small Gasthaus some distance from their homes where they would be unknown. Benno was an old friend of Willi’s father. Before his retirement he had been a senior police official and had become young Willi’s mentor when Willi had decided to become a policeman.
Willi got to the Gasthaus early and leaned his bicycle against a small maple tree at the curb where he could see it. The edges of the tree’s leaves were showing the first fall colors. It was only five thirty and he was the only customer. He chose a corner table beside the door leading to the kitchen. ‘A beer, please,’ he said. The waitress brought it. She was young and pretty.
Willi stood as the Horvaths came in. It had been several months since he had last seen them, and they had both aged in that time. Benno seemed less steady on his feet, and Margarete was thinner. She had white, almost translucent skin, the lightest azure eyes, a cloud of silver hair, and the erect posture of a dancer. A pale blue vein ran across her temple. She had an ethereal, almost otherworldly quality, as though she already had one foot in the great beyond.
Summer was almost over, but the evening was warm. Margarete wore a light sweater and a scarf around her shoulders. She kissed Willi’s cheek. ‘Willi!’ she whispered, as though his name were a secret, which in fact it was. Benno kissed him too, then grasped his hand.
Benno held the chair for Margarete. You could see from his face how he adored her, and it seemed to Willi for an instant that he should warn Benno. Even showing love so openly seemed like a dangerous thing to do these days. Willi sat on the bench against the wall.
‘Lola says hello,’ said Willi.
‘She’s recovered?’ said Margarete.
‘She has mostly,’ said Willi. ‘She’s doing well.’
‘They haven’t caught the man?’ said Benno.
‘They haven’t really tried,’ said Willi.
‘Why not? Is it somehow political?’ Benno said.
‘Maybe,’ said Willi. ‘But, if it is, I haven’t figured out how. The cops on the case have good reputations. They’re supposedly conscientious and thorough investigators, so someone must have taken them off the case.’
‘Leave it alone, Willi,’ said Benno.
‘That’s what Lola says.’
‘I’m glad she’s recovered,’ said Margarete. ‘You both deserve to be happy.’
Willi was a little afraid to name his happiness, as if doing so might cause it to disappear.
They studied the menu, ordered their food, and then sat for a long time in silence.
‘What’s new?’ said Willi finally, an ordinary question in ordinary times, but not any more.
‘Nothing,’ said Benno, and then described all the ways that wasn’t true. Seven hundred Protestant pastors had just that week been arrested by the Gestapo for refusing to integrate their Confessional Church into the Nazified Evangelical church. Another Munich newspaper, the Courier, had been forced out of existence by the Propaganda Ministry. Otto Bierbaum, its publisher, was a Jew, and so had been forced to give up
