CHAPTER 6

POLITICS 1934

For all of my memory we Austrians have lived in a Social Democratic state. Papa was a keen supporter of this party, and from my earliest understanding of the rules that govern us, I have also believed in its idealistic premise. It has been a source of enormous national pride and a cause that I have fiercely supported and defended. I have found a rallying cry, stirring the spirit of hope for all. This is the doctrine of egalitarianism, one people, none elevated too high above the rest, none too lowly. Each is allowed to live in his own way and is given the respect of his fellow Austrians, who now number seven and a half million, of which two million live here in Vienna. Of those, some two hundred thousand are Jewish. Our municipal programs and public works are impressive and are heralded throughout Europe as the epitome of civilized government.

Certainly there are detractors, foes of the ruling party who condemn the money spent on welfare projects. They want to cut pensions, public school grants, the health care that serves us all. I am enraged at these critics. My friends and I are unwavering supporters of the existing left-wing government. Freedom has come to us through this means and we defend it in marches and rallies. Mama is always worried when I participate in these outward expressions of my boisterous enthusiasm but my feelings are strong and won’t be silenced.

In the newspapers we read mounting criticism of the welfare debt. Our country, they say, can no longer support those who are a burden to the coffers. When in 1929 foreign credit supporting this deficit was withdrawn, loud protests and angry debates broke out, both in the government itself and then out into the streets. In 1931 an attempt to create a Customs Union with Germany, our closest ally, was blocked by international intervention and failed. Austria was struggling to stay afloat in an atmosphere of political and financial peril.

In 1932 a Christian Socialist cabinet under Dr. Engelbert Dollfuss had attempted to bring order, but by 1933 a new faction has emerged in Germany and Austria, the National Socialists, an extreme fascist party with strong anti-Semitic overtones. Their numbers have increased to such an extent that they can no longer be ignored. Their leader is Adolf Hitler, an unlikely little man with a loud voice who thunder-bolted from obscurity to notoriety by ranting in public places, gathering the disgruntled and outcast at first, and then engaging a wider following. Originally an Austrian, he espouses the unification of German-speaking countries.

We have read about him in the papers, without much concern at first but gradually becoming aware of his increasing importance. His book Mein Kampf is being distributed widely and turning many towards his incendiary ideas. In it he outlines in precise detail the road to German supremacy and world domination; he blames the ills of the world, as so many have done before him, on a Jewish conspiracy. Hitler’s astounding rise to power in Germany presents an unparalleled threat to the stability of our government. In a desperate attempt to maintain his rapidly slipping grasp on the reins of power, Dollfuss dissolves Parliament and proclaims himself dictator.

One summer morning in July 1934, I read the front page of the newspaper with shock. “My God, Mama, Dollfuss has been killed!”

She too is stunned. I continue, “There will be riots in the streets. I’m sure my friends will be against this outrage.”

Mama has turned pale. “Nini, I beg you to be careful. You just don’t understand how dangerous this situation is.”

“Don’t worry, Mama,” I answer, my heart pounding with anger and confidence. “I know what I’m doing.”

Now that a Nazi coup has failed, and Dollfuss has been assassinated in the process, chaos and uncertainty have taken over. Everyone I encounter talks about the ongoing political turmoil. I still meet my friends in coffee houses and we march to express our opinions, but some are already siding with the frightening movement and I have noticed that many of my Jewish friends are not joining us any longer. They are afraid to be seen in the street or their parents have curtailed their activities.

Finally, though, we experience a lull in the increasingly volatile atmosphere when the Nazis are ousted and Kurt Schuschnigg, a supporter of Dollfuss, takes control. There is general relief and renewed optimism that we will return to a lawful society. With the help of the Italian government, Schuschnigg has restored order. At eighteen, I am a keen advocate of his policies. Once again, Jew and Gentile march arm in arm waving banners and scribbling slogans on buildings and sidewalks, declarations of freedom and righteousness. We shout in sweaty excitement, emboldened by our youthful spirit and determination to be heard.

We are modern young Austrians, with adventure flowing in our veins. Politics are thrilling and daring, and we fear nothing as we speak in agitated voices of our dedication to a strong Socialist regime. In the coffee houses where we gather, we brandish slim cigarettes in our fingers and laugh freely as we argue about politics. We are the future generation, prepared to take control when our turn arrives and to lead our country and the world to a better understanding of one another. We are not bound to the religious doctrine of our ancestors, holding us captive by the archaic rituals that we believe to be meaningless. We are determined that Christians and Jews will coexist in peace. To show my resolve, I wear a gold cross next to the Star of David dangling on my neck chain.

Flushed with enthusiasm I arrive at home full of excitement and find Mama absorbed in her needlepoint. She looks up at my ruddy face and the shiny medallions hanging around my neck.

“What ideas you have, Nini. So naïve, so young. I’m afraid that idealism like yours won’t last long in this world,” she says sadly. “Will the Jews not hate you for wearing the cross and the Christians despise you for being a Jew?”

“Mama, your old ways are gone. This is a new world.”

Although Mama is distressed by my careless bravado, I won’t change my mind. She tries to warn me that things are not as they seem. “Nini, you have always been obstinate and strong-willed, but this time you are too close to the centre of the fire. You believe that we are all equal and that your Jewish heritage will be disregarded, but I have seen much more than you have and I am worried. This is a dangerous time to be a Jew, even more so than usual. War is all around us, bringing the walls that protect us in closer and closer. I am afraid for you young people. You don’t know what terrible things might happen in these times.”

“Mama, your generation was born in fear, but we are free,” I respond indignantly. “This isn’t one of those uncivilized villages in Poland where primitive superstitions and ignorance confined you. You don’t understand the new wave of political power that’s about to emerge. This, after all, is our Vienna! Hitler’s a buffoon. Once reason is established again, he’ll be thrown into jail where he and his mad ideas can rot!”

Mama doesn’t respond to my outburst. She has too many other worries to deal with. She soon puts aside her concern about a rebellious young woman.

Although I remain tenacious in my resolve, the events that are unfolding every day are beginning to prove Mama right. Our precious freedoms are being eroded bit by bit. Oppression is burgeoning within our city as the new government starts to impose restrictions. Seeds of a fascist regime are being planted, and we are witnessing its spread. Soon even my friends and I must admit that our resistance is insufficient to resist the inevitable direction of events. Even within our favourite cafés, support for the Nazis is more prevalent. Jews are selected at random and ridiculed or forced to leave after being brutally attacked. We are hardly equipped to fight the bullies who feel empowered by their growing numbers. The police seem to ignore the violations and refuse to intervene. Slowly and hardly perceivably, a malevolent undercurrent is gripping our city.

Elections and plebiscites are no longer allowed, and our voices are drowned. Our zeal has been quashed. The only activists still fervent are the omnipresent gangs of hoodlums, harassing citizens, shouting angry epithets of hatred in public places, appearing more and more often to disrupt and disturb. Splinter groups are vying for control of the Parliament. Our youth groups no longer rally in the streets shouting slogans openly. We begin to stay inside more often after dark as the politically motivated exchanges become increasingly aggressive and usually result in violence.

Political uncertainty is not unusual in Vienna. We are aware of the various conflicts and shifts in power, but for us as Jews there are only two outcomes to change in government: worse or much worse. The older generation finds it prudent to recede into silence and to hope for the tide to change again to a more tolerant atmosphere. It has always been the way of European Jews to accept the most dire of consequences with a shrug and philosophical resignation, hoping simply to outlast the anti-Semitic sentiment of ever-present fringe groups. Now, even my contemporaries are following the lead of the elders. We reason that this is a passing phase, difficult to be sure, but hardly cause for undue alarm.

Family gatherings have only one topic of conversation these days. The events that surround us and fill the papers with frightening propaganda have focused our thoughts in one direction. Mama and the relatives are talking heatedly about the current trend to more open slander against our people.

“You see,” one of the aunties says, and the other relatives agree, nodding their heads over Sunday coffee, “hard times are always followed by better times. It is just a matter of patience and keeping a low profile, not causing a stir or drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves. Every Jew must be vigilant of his actions because the errors of any one of us are sure to bring the worst consequences to the rest. In Poland we had to mind ourselves in everything we did or a pogrom would surely erupt. We must keep silent, and things will return to normal. Vienna will remain strong, and our homes will endure in safety despite the crazy rantings of that madman in Germany.”

“This time may be different,” Mama says. She is leaning forward in her chair, eager to emphasize the need for a more careful approach within our community. “There is too much support for this fanatic and it is not just local. It is happening in Germany right now. Just look at the newspapers – you’ll see that thousands rallied in the streets of Nuremberg to show their solidarity with the Nazis. And don’t forget about that plebiscite – ninety percent approve Hitler’s policies!” It is clear that Mama has trouble controlling her irritation with the sit-and-wait attitude of the uncles and aunties. The uncles and aunties aren’t alone. Others in Vienna, too, still hope for things to improve and try to convince themselves that we will outlive the current upheaval and return to normalcy. But Mama sees a different, much more frightening future. She tries again to persuade them of the dangers on our horizon.

The uncles begin fidgeting, getting ready to break up the conversation that has grown too serious. They are offended by this outspoken young widow. Mama ignores the clearing of throats and scratching of heads. She means to be heard this time.

“We know that Poland is a fertile soil for hatred too. Even the United States! I read about a pro-Nazi rally in New York when thousands turned out to show their animosity towards us.”

My aunts exchange sideways glances, apparently unmoved by Mama’s concerns. One of them decides to put her in her place. “Johanna is always nervous. Listen, my dear, you have to have confidence that things will get better. Besides, you can’t possibly imagine leaving Vienna, can you? Where would you go with all your family and no man to support you? Don’t be ridiculous. Everything will be fine again. We only need patience.”

I have gathered courage from Mama’s words and decide that I am old enough to voice my own ideas. Besides I am annoyed with the way the relatives dismiss Mama and cause her face to flush in frustrated anger.

“We can hardly be patient now. We should do something,” I say to everyone’s obvious surprise. “They blame us for everything!” I add as the relatives whisper their amazement at my outburst.

“How senseless these accusations are!” I continue, raising my voice. “They talk about an international Jewish conspiracy to control wealth and government. If we had any power or influence at all, would we have been victims of persecution throughout history? Would we be hounded and driven from one country to another as penniless refugees, struggling over and over again for some recognition of our worth and acceptance of our existence? Would we be objects of ridicule, riddled with self-doubt for our beliefs, trying to melt into the background, shivering in fear? Unless ‘Jewish conspiracy’ means the endless struggle to be allowed to live as others live, then it is truly the most insane concept ever conceived!” I know my face is crimson for I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

If the relatives had no patience for Mama, they certainly have very little regard for anything I might add. “Nini, don’t be a child,” my auntie snaps. “This is not a time for reason. When anti-Semitism starts to spread as it is doing now, stay clear of the enemy and wait for a quiet time to return. Rational arguments are lost on those driven only by fear and hatred. There is no way of fighting this menace. We have heard about Hitler’s doctrine of national pride for Germans and hatred for all others, first and foremost us Jews. Our leaders condemn his words but cast them aside as vicious nonsense. Once again we have been chosen as scapegoats for malcontents. Here is just one more of these, loudly vocal to be sure but likely to disappear in good time.”

The relatives begin to rise from their chairs. They say their farewells and for now anyway the matter is closed. The long-ago respect for our elders, drilled into us over the years, prevents me from arguing further.

I am quiet but I sense a new kind of tension. My parents’ generation dealt with hostility directed towards them in two ways, denial and silent acquiescence. My generation has tried for peaceful coexistence. I wonder whether any of these methods will succeed this time. I realize only that the machinery of hatred is churning with increasing and more overt momentum daily and that we Jews are in the path of destruction.