The Joel family met up again in the summer of 1938 in Zurich. The parents had managed to cross the Swiss border using false passports. Carrying just a couple of suitcases, they must have looked like vacationers; but their nerves were very much on edge. It was a matter of life and death. Passport control on the train seemed to take forever. The immigration officers checked their papers with typical Swiss efficiency.
They weren’t particularly happy about these refugees from Germany. Jews and Gypsies were considered ‘alien and unassimilable elements’. The Swiss feared ‘foreign infiltration and Judaization’ of the country due to the increasing number of refugees from Germany and its occupied territories. On August 19, 1938, the Federal Council decided to close its borders completely. As of October 1938, the Swiss authorities also ruled that German and Austrian Jews should have a ‘J’ in a red circle stamped into their passports, so that they could be more easily recognized (and turned away) – a stamp of ostracism.
Helmut’s time at the boarding school in St. Gallen was at an end, and he looked forward to his vacations and parents, whom he hadn’t seen for so long. He recalled exactly the surprise phone call he got from his excited mother: “Helmut, we’re in Switzerland and we can’t go back. Not ever! Do you know what that means?”
The family found modest accommodation in the Mugalto apartment building near Zurich’s uptown Bahnhofstrasse. It was summer, a cosmopolitan crowd strolled along the boulevard and the lakeside – at first glance there was no obvious difference between the Joels and the wealthy tourists.
However, the Joels were still at the beginning of a journey into the unknown. “Of course we were happy to have left Nazi Germany behind us. But at what a price! Family and friends, the business and the house, the old homeland – all gone at a single stroke. There was no going back”, remembered Helmut Joel. But although his parents were plagued by worries and fear, the dramatic circumstances were a source of diversion and adventure for their teenage son.
The city was full of emigrants from Germany, many of them actors, writers and artists. Literature Nobel Prize winner Thomas Mann was one of the most famous, who later migrated to the USA with his family. The Jewish critic and publisher Hans Sahl lived in exile on Lake Zurich; his choral work “Jemand” was premiered in Zurich in 1938 and featured 800 Swiss workers in the chorus. In his memoirs Das Exil im Exil [Exile in Exile], Sahl wrote: “In autumn of that year a series of performances took place in a specially built, 4,000 capacity tent at Bellevue. The performances were relayed throughout the whole city by loudspeakers. Being a foreigner in exile, a stranger, a refugee without a residence permit, I had the unusual satisfaction of hearing my own words echo through the narrow alleyways of Zurich: ‘Save the people, save the people, save the world from the barbarism.’” To the Joels it must have sounded like a desperate swansong.
Without doubt, the decision to leave Germany was the right one: the shocking news of ‘Crystal Night’ reached the emigrants in Zurich. The systematic persecution of Jews in Germany reached a new climax with the Pogrom of November 9 and 10, 1938. Around 100 people were murdered, 101 synagogues burned, and numerous apartments and businesses vandalized. Thousands were arrested and subsequently incarcerated in concentration camps. The Jews were now banned from employment, faced racial laws and were cut off from the economy. The forced Aryanization of businesses continued, special taxes on assets for foreigners were introduced. On top of all this, freedom of movement for Jews was reduced even further – cinemas, parks, certain hotels and sleeping coaches on the Reich’s trains were forbidden to Jews.
Karl Joel didn’t want to simply give up on his life’s work and tried to negotiate with Berlin from the safety of Switzerland. Neckermann sent him this cynical reply: “Just come to Berlin, then you’ll get all that’s due to you!”
During the next few months, Joel tried to get a visa for the USA and for Cuba. This proved to be more difficult than he imagined: the USA, dream destination for numberless immigrants, had imposed a quota on residence permits. This quota varied from country to country. The heavy demand coming out of Germany meant the waiting list was very long. In 1938 there were ten applications for each quota visa. Every applicant received a register number; the wait for permission to enter the country could take years. The refugees didn’t have that kind of time: “Hitler was quicker than the consulates, upon whose moods we were dependent for the life-saving visas” were the embittered words Jewish exile and writer Alfred Polgar used to describe the situation.
The strict U.S. immigration policy meant that the authorities let fewer refugees from Nazi Germany enter the country than they really could have allowed in. U.S. laws permitted 27,370 Germans to enter per year, regardless of their religion, beliefs or political convictions. However, it was not until 1939 that this quota was fully exhausted. This was largely due to political power-calculus. Both President Hoover and his successor, Franklin D. Roosevelt, were very much aware that, at the time, a large portion of the American population was prone to anti-Semitism and xenophobia. The economic crisis and high unemployment also meant people were not exactly happy to welcome the exile-seeking hordes from Europe. From 1933 onwards, the number of applications for U.S. visas had risen dramatically. The State Department successfully prevented the U.S. immigration policy from being changed, arguing that it wasn’t in America’s best interests to admit into the country such a large number of Jewish refugees, most of whom were completely destitute.
Still, in July of 1938 Roosevelt did at least instigate an international conference, held in the French spa town of Évian-les-Bains to discuss the refugee problem. However, the invitations sent out to the 32 participating nations informed them beforehand that they wouldn’t be required to change their immigration policies. The results of the conference were correspondingly disappointing: nothing more than expressions of sympathy and regretful declarations that it would be impossible to take in even more refugees. This stance – which was taken by almost every country – was virtually a death sentence for many Jews. It was not just in Switzerland that ‘the boat is full.’
The Nazi newspaper Völkischer Beobachter (Nationalistic Observer) gloated on the situation, writing: “Nobody wants the rabble. Practically none of the government officials are prepared to open the gates to their country for a bunch that have caused Germany’s ruin.”
In the spring of 1938, shortly after German troops had marched into Austria, Karl Joel had taken the wise precaution of booking a Caribbean cruise that would be departing from Southampton in England (and not from a German port). The plan was to leave the ship when it called at Cuba, and to stay there until an entry permit for the USA. could be obtained. Getting the necessary documents proved to be a nerve-racking, bureaucratic obstacle race: a visa for Cuba and (to be on the safe side) for Panama, as well as the required register numbers for the U.S. Health and employability certificates were also needed, and $500 would have to be paid to enter the country.
Meanwhile, the Jew-baiting in Germany continued to get worse. On January 3, 1939, an article was published in the Nazi newspaper Der Angriff (The Attack) under the title “Jewels-Joel resurfaces”: “Joel, Karl, linen goods manufacturer, no. 65, Utrechter Strasse 25-17, tel. no. 46 42 31, long distance no. 46 76 62. You can find this entry in the Imperial Capital’s telephone directory under the letter ‘J’. But the Jew Karl Joel is no longer to be found in Berlin. On August 18, 1938, he chose to shake the dust of hospitable Germany out of his shiny shoes. For more than three months now he’s been busy attaching himself like a leech to the lifeblood of the Swiss people, just the way he did to us here in Germany. And he took a little ‘memento’ of his time here in hospitable Germany with him: jewels to the value of roughly 400,000 Reichsmarks.” Readers were then made curious about the sequel to this trashy article: “Coming up: Jewels worth 204,000 Reichsmarks* Orgies in Tannenbergallee * The secret safe in the wall.”
But what the Nazi press didn’t know was that the Joels had left Switzerland by train in January 1939, traveling through France before crossing by ferry to England, which was still possible at the time. In England they boarded a white luxury liner named “Arandora Star”. Just one year later, at the outbreak of the Second World War, the ship was in the headlines: on June 2, 1940, on the way from Liverpool to Newfoundland, the ship was sunk by a German submarine. Most of the 1,800 passengers were German and Italian prisoners of war.
However, after a two-week journey, the Joels did reach Havana in the spring of 1939 – and they were awestruck. The turquoise ocean, the unbelievably blue sky, the white backdrop of the city’s buildings, the dome of the National Capitol, the tropical temperatures – it must have seemed like a dream. Compared to Berlin, it was like arriving in Paradise. They drank in the heady aromas of fish and seafood, black beans, freshly roasted coffee, cigars and flowers. And the unusual noises: the sirens of the ocean liners, the crashing of the surf, the Spanish calling of the street vendors, the rattle of horse carriages, the giggling of exotic beauties – all accompanied by the irresistible rhythms of Cuban music. Salsa, rumba, cha-cha-cha. The Joels had almost forgotten just how carefree and happy life could be.
At that time Havana was an international playground, particularly for Americans, who enjoyed the city’s bars, casinos, gambling and fast, beautiful women. Thanks to its elegant shops, spacious architecture and French flair, the Cuban metropolis was also known as the ‘Caribbean Paris’. Some of Latin America’s biggest and most famous department stores could be found here, such as El Encanto and El Siglo where, on numerous floors, the latest European fashions could be tried on and bought. European operas were being performed at the Teatro Tacón in the renowned Parque Central, and the latest Hollywood blockbusters were being shown in the city’s movie theaters. With its exciting nightlife and exhilarating cultural scene, Havana was a city that never slept. The atmosphere of the harbor city was amenable; it had always been a place for immigrants from throughout the whole world, a welcoming haven not only for tourists, artist and celebrities, but also for all manner of European exiles hoping for a better life in Cuba.
Before entering the war in 1941, Cuba had taken in around 8,000 German-Jewish transit refugees; more than 16,000 Jews lived on the island at that time, most of them in Havana. Strict residence regulations and massive public protests prevented an increased wave of immigration into the republic, which was more or less a dictatorship. But behind the scenes, politicians and the military were involved in a bitter power struggle, and the situation was extremely unstable.
It was also in 1939 that author Ernest Hemingway and his wife Martha Gellhorn bought their Finca Vigia, situated on a hill not far from Havana. Hemingway loved the Caribbean and spent most of his time deep-sea fishing or frequenting the bars of Havana. It was Cuban fishermen who were the inspiration for what is arguably his most famous story, “The Old Man and the Sea”. For a time, Hemingway was obsessed with the idea of searching for German submarines along the Cuban coast in his motor yacht, with the aim of fighting the ‘Krauts’. However, the thought remained very much a writer’s fantasy that eventually found its literary expression in his posthumously published novel Islands in the Stream.
Meanwhile, the Joel family was busy with their everyday problems, and found themselves an apartment in the fashionable Vedado district. It was a stuffy attic apartment – and there was no piano. But living in the hilly, tropical green district had its advantages: blossoming creepers clad the fronts of the houses and tropical plants, lush bushes, palms, pines and guana trees grew in the gardens. The busy main street Calle 23 and the university were very near, and Cuba’s famous Malecón seafront promenade was just a short walk away. In rough weather the onrushing waves would often put the street under water, but at other times this was the place for the city’s couples and teens to meet and enjoy the fantastic view.
Helmut’s first school in Havana was the American Ruston academy, where he was among both Cuban and American students. The curriculum included three languages: English, Spanish and French, something that would later turn out to be considerably useful. His parents couldn’t really speak any foreign languages and suffered under their communication problems.
After leaving school, Helmut started studying electrical engineering at the Universidad de La Habana, the buildings of which sat enthroned over the city like an ancient pantheon. However, the university had more in common with a den of thieves than with a temple of learning. The fight for political power dominated student life, and armed assaults were often the order of the day. Police were not allowed to enter the autonomous university campus. In 1945 there was a certain student in the law faculty who was eventually to emerge as the rebellious leader of the students against the corrupt, ruling elite: Fidel Castro Ruz.
The Joels survived thanks to the valuables and jewelry they’d managed to smuggle out of Europe in their luggage, and which they sold one by one. Although the family had a residence permit, Karl Joel didn’t have authorization to work. They didn’t worry about this at first as, like many others, they were soon going to be leaving for the USA. They couldn’t imagine that this period of waiting would turn out to be seemingly endless years. A kind of forced Caribbean holiday.
There was a lot to organize at the start. Karl Joel – up until recently a successful businessman and meanwhile 50 years old – faced another fresh start. And practically nothing was left of his former wealth. Nevertheless, they had just about enough to survive.
Before leaving Germany, Karl had arranged with his brother Leon to meet up as soon as possible in Cuba. Karl now did all he possibly could to help his relatives and organize the necessary paperwork. This all required not only the right connections, but money too. Furthermore, the Cuban idyll proved to be rather deceptive, and 1939 brought with it dramatic developments for the Joels: In May of that year the tragedy of the German refugee ship “MS St. Louis” began in Havana, then Karl’s mother died in faraway Franconia, Germany. And in September of 1939, Adolf Hitler started the Second World War.