Those who are defeated today shall be the victors of tomorrow. Because defeat serves as a lesson. The German proletariat still lacks revolutionary experience. And only through tentative attempts, adolescent errors and painful setbacks can it obtain practical education, which will ensure future victory. For the living forces of the social revolution, whose unstoppable growth is the natural law of societal development, a defeat means stimulus. And through defeat after defeat, their road leads to victory.
~ Karl Liebknecht,
In Spite of Everything!
“It was with the best intentions that our movement entered into reconciliation with those forces who had shown themselves willing to tolerate the fascist-monarchist coup of Hohehnzollern and von Schleicher. Since then we have done everything we can, in the aim of peace and reconstruction, to work together with them for the betterment of Germany.
We were, from that point on, beset almost constantly by challenges to our United Front and our programme, beyond all that was reasonable. And yet through every infraction, every obstruction, every slander, every minor opportunity they took in an attempt to destabilise the workers government, we persevered. We continued to uphold the system agreed upon by the terms of the cease-fire, for we believed that for all our differences we were all patriots, with Germany’s best interests at heart.
When it came to the union of my Austrian home with our shared fatherland there was again obstruction, it seemed even this natural reunion of the German family was worth sabotaging in order to stifle the worker’s cause. Some did this alongside suggesting Bavaria be torn from Germany at the same time. Yet, perhaps naively, we continued to believe such people had Germany’s best interests at heart.
The events of these last days no longer allow for such optimism, we are under attack not only on our borders but also from within-”
A fires which surrounded the town cast the night in an angry orange glow. From the increasingly fortified Land Administration office it seemed the entire horizon was aflame.
Fires had spread, either with no-one to tend to them or perhaps deliberately.
Gerda gripped the pistol in her jacket pocket, from the window she observed the People’s Guard regulars, the newly drafted conscripts and the volunteer militias erecting barricades and sandbags outside the office. It was to be the centre of anti-fascist operations for whatever was to come. Those out of uniform had red cloth tied around their arms to show their allegiance to Germany, a throwback to the Civil War that many now gathered around the building had fought in.
Rosa sat in the corner, staring blankly at the radio as the Chancellor’s speech from earlier that day was repeated once more. There had been little real news from German radio stations all day, the broadcasting restrictions put in force by the Enabling Act the Reichstag had passed the previous day having limited the airwaves to official government broadcasts. Foreign news was not to be trusted.
Included within the official broadcasts were instructions of a curfew now in effect to limit any potential outbreak of violence from fascist elements within Germany, the German people were encouraged to remain in their homes other than those called upon to serve in their nation’s hour of need. Many of those people had also brought their families to where they could be protected before taking up arms themselves. Rosa wasn’t the only child currently under protection in the Land Administration office, although she was perhaps the best informed as to the ongoing events.
“There’s still a chance of stopping them isn’t there? The fascists won’t come, now they know we’re ready.”
Gerda looked at her daughter and noticed she was shaking slightly. She held her hand whilst the Chancellor continued on his tirade against the treacherous elements they faced.
“Comrades we shall, as a demonstration of our resolve, and as a sure sign to those who attempt to threaten our revolution and our fatherland, take up arms. The German people will not rest until this threat has been eradicated. Until then, death to the fascist invader! Death to the traitors and their conspiracy! Death to all those who would threaten Germany and the German ideology! Now, people rise up, and let the storm break loose!”
She squeezed Rosa’s hand whilst the radio began to play revolutionary songs in the interlude before the next information announcement, the upbeat choir felt incongruous with the orange glow outside and it was unclear whether it’s influence was meant to be calming or a call to join whatever might be unfolding.
“This is all but a temporary moment in history, a moment of transition in our lives.” Gerda remarked, holding Rosa’s hand to her left and the pistol in her pocket to her right. “One day we’ll look at this time as a bad dream, one we had to endure for the better tomorrow. You’ve spent your entire life in the revolution, soon you’ll be at the age I was when this all began, with the war. I haven’t been fair in raising you like this but life hasn’t been fair to people like us. I had hoped we could settle and find happiness at last but there is more to be done still. This, all of this,” Gerda motioned to the glowing horizon, “is just a nightmare before the dawn.”
Mother and daughter walked over to the window to look once more at the preparations going on outside.
“Tomorrow there is nothing that will be denied to workers like us but we have to reach out and take it first. We don’t lose hope because the fascists are acting out of fear but take joy in the fact that they are scared of us. Because we know that we’ll win.”
There was a flicker of a smile on Rosa’s face but it vanished just as suddenly upon noticing something outside.
“Are they with us?”
Gerda noticed the man now too, emerging out of the shadows with three following behind him. The assembled People’s Guard regulars took their positions whilst a group of volunteers approached them, she saw with relief that the visitors were brandishing a white flag. She could make out Dieter walking over to the two groups, his large arms and broad back cutting a figure she would have noticed anywhere. It wasn’t long before he was rushing back inside the building and up the stairs.
The sudden clatter startled Rosa before she noticed her mother’s partner standing at the door, out of breath from sprinting with a rifle on his back.
“They’re from the Rural People’s Movement. They want to speak to you.”
Puzzled, Gerda looked back at the men standing around with their white flag. It was hard to make them out in the shadows but she knew they likely meant trouble. They had been the source of disruption for her office on many occasions, surely they came under the groups that Hitler had spoken about? They had supported the United Front in the civil war but that could have changed in their displeasure at what they got out of the peace.
She masked her confusion with a smile to her daughter.
“Looks like the revolution needs me, I’ll be back soon.” It was a promise she intended to keep, she hadn’t let her daughter down for some time and intended to keep it that way.
“Stay with Rosa will you?” Gerda whispered in Dieter’s ear whilst rubbing his shoulder affectionately. She had built a family for herself here in Kaltenkirchen but the revolution had come to her here all the same.
The air had a strong smell of smoke to it, there weren’t any stars in the sky, but despite the fires in the distance the town remained in one piece. When she had been surrounded by the fires of Hamburg it had been a blazing inferno amidst a chaotic battle, here it was quiet. Almost serene. Gerda hoped the new arrivals intended to keep it that way. To her annoyance she noticed they were led by one of the hecklers from one of the many public meetings involving the division of landed estates, one who relentlessly brought up those estates which weren’t to be divided. He seemed happy to see her now all the same.
“Gentlemen,” She addressed them curtly, in the past they hadn’t liked being called Comrade, “I believe you wanted to see me?”
“We’re here to join forces with you but there’s a matter which must be straightened out first.”
“What would that be?”
“It’s better if you see for yourself, we’re over at Vogt’s estate.”
Vogt had been accused of supporting the Third Reich even if there had been no clear evidence for it like some of his fellow landowners. Because of this he had been allowed to keep his land thanks to the compromises the United Front had had to make.
“That’s almost fifteen kilometres away.”
“We have a car, you’ll be there before you know it.”
The man seemed genuinely excited about the prospect. Her eyes narrowed.
“This wouldn’t involve getting rid of me would it?
The former heckler put up his hands disarmingly.
“That might be how you operate but you’re safe with us. I would refer you to our flag of truce. Hopefully we can march with our banners together soon but they’re waiting for you on the Vogt estate before that can happen.”
“All the same, these three will stay here until I return. I’m bringing two comrades with me.”
She called over for two of the People’s Guard infantrymen who stood behind the assembled barricades to accompany her. They could be relied on for discipline at the very least and their uniforms might be intimidating, even to those contemptuous of the United Front’s legitimacy. The heckler relented and led the three of them down the street, leaving his own comrades behind.
Gerda didn’t know much about cars but one of the People’s Guard troopers whistled in amazement. The vehicle certainly looked stylish, all sleek shapes and curves moulded into one another.
“It’s a Citroën Rosalie, one of the fastest in the world. The bastard used to love speeding around the estate in it, flaunting the money he made off of our toil. Now it’s ours at last.”
“As long as it isn’t too fast,” Gerda muttered whilst stepping into the plush interior, “you wouldn’t want your new toy to be the death of you.”
“I’ve been driving tractors since I was a boy, you’re in safe hands.”
Gerda didn’t get a chance to ask if there wasn’t a difference before the engine roared to life and they sped through the town of Kaltenkirchen. Towards the many fires. The car could indeed go at some speed and as the engine continued to growl the rush was exhilarating. The fires added to that effect, they were growing larger now and not just in the distance. They were being driven towards one gigantic blaze where the Vogt estate house had once stood.
The heckler awkwardly brought the Citroën to a halt in front of the burning mansion. Gerda felt the heat hit her even before she left the car. The People’s Guard soldiers cocked their rifles in hesitation.
“I hope you can understand why we wanted you to see this.” The heckler smiled from the driving seat. The fire exaggerated his features, making him look manic. Gerda stepped out with her Comrades only to see a larger group were waiting for her.
“Good to see you again, Comrade Muller.” The Rural People’s Movement’s leader welcomed her. Claus Helm had an impish look on his face in spite of his years.
“I thought you weren’t fond of that address, Claus.”
“Well the world changes and we must change with it.”
It was hard to hear with the fire consuming the home but she could hear muffled shouts. The group parted to reveal a kneeling figure with a bag over his head.
“Then again,” Helm went on, “some are simply unable to adapt.”
He lifted the sack to reveal the bloodied face of Ludwig Vogt, the owner of this estate. He uttered muffled curses due to the cloth tied around his mouth, whilst looking at his house disappear in horror. In spite of his situation this seemed to be what truly concerned him. Gerda regarded him neutrally before looking amongst his captors.
“Throughout Germany the people are taking up arms to defend the revolution against those who would put us back in chains. You have acted, Comrades, and we Communists support you.”
“There is one outstanding matter all the same.” Helm produced a pistol and extended it to Gerda.
“You claimed to be of our class, Comrade Muller. Time to show your allegiance to the land.”
Gerda looked to the pistol and then to Vogt suddenly less interested in the state of his home. His eyes were now fixed on her, his smothered curses now beginning to sound like pleading.
The powers of the past, the mortal enemies of the proletariat, pleading through a mouth of dragon’s teeth.
She placed the sack back over his head and produced her own pistol.
“For Rosa.”
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The painting is
Monk Christopher with Christ near the river by Yuri Annenkov
I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!
