The Villa Hügel was designed to impress, and Hershel Kanitzky was willing to be impressed. Of course, he was also shrewd enough not to let himself be manipulated by a crude display of wealth. He had spent enough time in Russia to understand that size and ornateness did not equal any real importance or effectiveness. Still, for all it being vulgar and bombastic, Villa Hügel had a sense of might that was refreshing. It hammered home to you that its owner would not take any disrespect from anyone. It broadcast overbearing pride. And it was owned by a Yid.
Well, not a Yid in the sense Kanitzky had ever thought of using the term. He had considered himself a fairly worldly person, in no way pious or virtuous. Walther Krupp zu Rathenau, though, did not even sound or look Jewish. He did not feel Jewish. If Kanitzky had not known, he would have taken him for any German industrialist. Of course, this was a conspiracy, and conspirators could not well apply the smell test to everyone they cooperated with. Rathenau was a powerful influence in the Jewish movement. His money spoke as eloquently as Herzl's and Nordau's pens. Speaking of which, Kanitzky had bad news.
“Nordau will not come. He has formally declined the invitation to the congress, citing other engagements. Of course, he is needed in Paris for the elections. I am afraid, though, he considers all we are doing a distraction from the true goal.”
Rathenau sighed. He had feared as much. Zionists were admirable men, but they could be rather boneheaded about the realities of the situation. Damn, why was it so hard to get them to devote their energhy to doing something for their Jewish brethren here and now instead of waiting for the remote chance to send them to Palestine?
“All right,” Rathenau said. “Have you heard anything from Wolffsohn?”
You could send invitations by post, but there were things that needed to be discussed through trustworthy messengers. Kanitzky may not have been a Zionist, but everyone agreed he was trustworthy.
“He will come, and he is willing to use his influence for our cause. He is wary of it, though. He actually said he didn't want us to be too successful, or the situation might get too good. Funny, the things a firm belief can do to someone's mind.”
Shuffling papers, Rathenau made notes in the folder labeled “Lemberg Conference”. He was not officially inviting, but the funding was his. That had to be worth something.
“All right,” he said. “I know that Otto Warburg is willing to help with humanitarian things. He also agreed to manage the emigration fund. You've heard about that, I assume? The Jewish Militia is sending money to Germany so they can go to America if the Poles sell them down the river. They are remarkable young men, aren't they?”
Kanitzky nodded. “I think I met Brigadier Ferber before the war, actually. Back in Radun, when I was ferrying money and travel papers. They say he was already thinking of a military career back then. He wanted to emigrate to America and go to West Point.”
Rathenau shrugged. “They'll say a lot about people. I doubt he had anything like that in mind. He's pretty good for all that, though.” He absently leafed through the guest list. “Zangwill, Oppenheimer, have we heard anything from Ussishkin?”
Kanitzky's face fell. “I'm sorry, Sir. He was in Berdishev when the Patriotic Union came to the shtetl. Some refugees say they saw the gendarmerie arrest him, but his name doesn't appear on any official court list out of Russia. Alav-ha shalom.”
It needed not mean anything. There were secret tribunals these days, and administrative detention. Still, it was not encouraging. If the Patriotic Union men had gotten their hands on him – if they had figured out who he was, they might have contented themselves with humiliating him. If he was just another Yid, though, they could well simply have killed him, or left him to starve or freeze to death on the road.
“Anyone out there who takes a more – active stance?” Rathenau asked after a second's silence.
“Israel Zangwill came out with the idea that the Jews should rule the pale of settlement when the revolution has succeeded.” Kanitzky answered with a bitter smile.
“We'll put that with the motion to provide wings for pigs.” Still, Rathenau thought. It was a thought worth holding. What should the status of the Jews be after the whole thing ended? What could they ask at the conference? Damn, if the Zionist fools could just once agree to stand up and be counted for something that didn't have anything to do with their precious Judenstaat! Their prestige would have helped. He idly wondered on which side Herzl would have come down.