"The process of revolutionization in the ranks of the Social Democratic Parties, now going on in all countries, is developing unevenly. It must not be imagined that the Social Democratic workers who are becoming revolutionized will at once and on a mass scale pass over to the position of consistent class struggle and will straightway unite with the Communists without any intermediate stages. In a number of countries this will be a more or less difficult, complicated and prolonged process, essentially dependent, at any rate, on the correctness of our policy and tactics. "
~ Georgi Dimitrov,
Unity of the Working Class against Fascism
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Like the Smolny Institute that had served as Bolshevik headquarters during the October Revolution in Russia over a decade beforehand, the operational rooms of the People's Guard headquarters were a place of wealth that now stood as an impromptu house of the worker.
The interior of the Hotel Furst Bismarck had a classical opulence in spite of its more modern exterior, both of which were now merged with a revolutionary zeal posing as military discipline. The hotel’s location next to Hamburg’s main railway station made it useful geographically but Johann couldn’t help but pause to remark on the finery of the place, wondering how many had laboured to achieve such undeserved wealth for the wealthy few.
In the lobby where such people would have dallied only a few weeks beforehand there were now men in uniforms like Feder's going to and fro around the far larger numbers of individuals like himself with no uniform at all. Johann couldn’t help but feel that this was a people's militia with pretensions of being a military. All the same, he was aware that they were all here to make things right. At the door the porters had been replaced by armed guards who had waited on Feder to account for Johann’s place amongst the worthy. Johann had had to account for Lars by himself as only those considered necessary were to be permitted in for the moment. Those who had travelled with them were left to prepare for what was to come elsewhere.
Organisationally, Johann felt he could have been back in Karl Liebknecht Haus amidst the fraught atmosphere. The lobby acted as a thoroughfare for various departments, focused on propaganda, KPD, SPD, and trade unionist affairs as well as much of the day to day running of the city of Hamburg itself now that it had become the impromptu revolutionary capital.
Feder led Johann and Lars through these various departments towards the place of their own vocation, the conduct of the revolution outside of the city being directed from the ‘Operational Centre’ within the Hotel.
Johann and Lars were beckoned into a large hall full of clerkish men and women shouting across the room amongst tables of documents in what appeared to have previously been the hotel's main dining room. From the small stage where at one point a band may have played, there stood a chalkboard featuring a badly drawn map of Germany's regions and railways with indications as to who was in charge where. It might as well have been written in code, but as Johann and Lars approached it Feder seemed to acknowledge their confusion. Lars whistled as if struck by the scene.
“And here was me thinking you Communists couldn’t fit a lightbulb without forming three different parties.”
"They're calling it 'Lightning revolt'”, Feder explained with enthusiasm, ignoring the remark, “but it's more of a strangulation than a revolution at the moment. The Reichswehr and their fascist militias might have been larger than we expected but we in turn have far greater control of the infrastructure than they could have feared. If they can't smash us soon, then their Third Reich will collapse around them."
"Eventually we will need an army though, train conductors can't finish the job." Johann muttered impatiently. Impressed as he was with the progress the united front had made since the rout of the Red Front in Berlin, he hadn't been lying about wanting to strike back after his brush with death.
"And that's where we will come in but for now we must all focus on keeping those railheads. They are the key.” Feder motioned to a town called Lehrte near the city of Hannover that stood out prominently on the blackboard’s map. Speculative arrows hung around it as did the railway lines that stemmed from it. If railways were the arteries of Germany then this town might as well have been the nation’s heart.
“I can’t say this fills me with joy.” Johann could only think back to the Ruhr, where the basis of the strategy was to flee before the French got near them in any great numbers. In these coming battles, hit and run wouldn’t be an option. Johann noticed Feder’s enthusiasm seemed to wane as well, but the smile didn’t disappear from his face.
“Greater strength also means greater vulnerability at the source of that strength-"
Before Feder could continue the room quietened as two figures entered, both in similar uniforms to Feder. Johann recognised them as Hans Kahle and Ludwig Renn; two First World War veterans who had joined the KPD after eschewing their officer backgrounds in the wake of the Red Front's actions in the Ruhr. Now, with something bigger than insurgency required, it appeared they were the authority on how to conduct something more akin to conventional warfare.
The room quietened and some clerks left as curtains were drawn over the large windows and lights were adjusted to illuminate the blackboard. Feder gently patted Johann on the shoulder as if to let him know that the reason for them being here had now arrived..
The presentation from the two officers began. Lehrte was to be the main focus point of what was expected to be a major Reichswehr offensive building up in the south. As a major railhead, Lehrte could decide whether or not the Reichswehr and their fascist militias could free itself from the chokehold the workers had managed to place upon their forces in the west of Germany. If these forces could be kept at bay they would soon be broken and it was noted that this battle could be decisive in achieving that. If that could be achieved then the conditions for a march east to take Berlin and the other major cities would be on their way to being met.
And then there will be a reckoning, Johann thought to himself. He was sure he wasn’t alone in that regard, before his focus switched to the third individual stepping up to the stage.
---
The uniform felt strange to Adolf. Unlike the two fellow veterans beside him on the stage he hadn’t been an officer in the trenches but the life he had built up since that slaughter had brought him to a position where few would blink at him wearing such a thing. His authority was personified within him
I have built this revolutionary army and I alone can lead it to victory
He had repeated this mantra to himself ever since that embarrassing incident in Berlin. A momentary lapse into panic and delirium, forgivable, he had been taken by surprise after all but he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. And he would impose that view on anyone who doubted him now.
Fists snapping into the air from the assembled Red Front men in the crowd as he stepped into the light only served to assure him of these facts. In the dark of the briefing he could not make out their faces but their loyalty was recognition enough. This was his army, regardless of whether his hastily granted title of Secretary of Operations to the People’s Guard or his even more nebulous position within the workings of the United Front affirmed that. These men had been drilled to regard him as Leader. The others assembled however, those Social Fascists and other stragglers who proved their worth in the coming struggle, would be moulded towards that view as well. There was a cheer from some at recognising him but he beckoned them to silence.
“Genossen, kameraden, for many of us our lives have built up for this moment, for others it has been something forced upon us. We might not be entirely harmonious in our coalition but all of us share the same vision. Our nation stands at the crossroads between socialism and barbarism. It is our task, our duty, is to ensure the fatherland does not descend into the darkness that blights so much of Europe. For socialism is not just our creed, it is also our strength, that hammer which we shall use to crush those that would make us slaves.”
The stark picture, the venom in his voice. He could draw confidence from the crowd and at the same time, extoll his anger throughout them.
“Von Shleicher, Hindenburg, Goering and worst of all that false Kaiser. All of them sit in Berlin at this very moment but they sit in fear of our revolution! We have contributed all our best efforts in spreading our revolution across the country and now we will stand firm as their White Guards desperately attempt to put us down! Let them bleed themselves to death in trying to break our stranglehold over them and let the message be made clear to those workers in bondage that they have nothing to fear in rising up to join us. All those crowned heads, all those of wealth and privilege, shall tremble! Our strength and our iron will, that has seen the proletariat through a century of struggle, is united at last!”
Adolf grabbed the two officers beside him in an embrace before the Social Democrats Paul Levi and Erich Zeigner also stepped up to the stage and joined the group as the People’s Guard cheered. The two officers stood bemused as they tried to maintain the professionalism of their presentation but Levi and Zeigner beamed as if a dream long promised was finally being realised. They were not supposed to be here, but Adolf couldn’t help but exploit the opportunity it provided him.
The People’s Guard men cheering may well have contained some of those who had tried to tear Adolf and Levi down from the stage only a few months beforehand. And now...
“All of you,” Adolf continued, “all of you who have stepped forward to bring in the new dawn, stand with us now and we will not only crush the fascist scum but we shall roll back over a decade of betrayal and failure. Some of you might remember the promise I made when we were hiding in the shadows of the Ruhr, some may even suspect I have forgotten it myself but I assure you I have not. We are taking Germany, and these are the final steps!”
The Red Front men who had been there could have been expected to agree but the cheering was more universal than that. Adolf, in a room with comrades and traitors alike would fight the revolution to the end. One way or another.
But the yoking had also begun.
---
The painting is August by Ludmilla Perec