Sieg Heil, Herr Gruppenfuhrer.”
“
Ah, the little chicken for the plucking,” purred the cat-like official to the would-be entrant to the elite academy of Waldheim. “
Come in Mr Ell and sit yourself down,” he said politely, pointing to a high backed wooden chair uncannily reminiscent of that known to generations of New Yorkers as “Old Smoky:” (the electric chair that had worked tirelessly from 1898 to the third quarter of the last century). All that was missing were the metal cap and straps! “
I am Panzermann and that gentleman with the lie detector is Himmelstadt.”
“
So you want to study history?” he continued, looking pointedly at the nervous young man with the slightly white face and regulation hair cut. “
Well, let us start at the beginning. Do you think National Socialism was a middle or working class phenomenon?”
Jason Ell thought quickly. A simple question but a testing one. The safe answer would be working class - upper working class if one wanted to hedge one’s bets. But the Party line now seemed to drift towards preferring explanations that encompassed the thinkers and better heeled; as well as paying lip-service to those roughnecks who had handled the hurly-burly and head-breaking that establishment and recognition of the party had involved. Could he cover both - and his own ass - in a single answer? Himmelstadt had already started unobtrusively connecting the lie-detector electrodes.
“Class had little to do with it,” Ell began, nervously clearing his throat and wishing his Adam’s apple wouldn’t hop about so obviously. “Education was a greater factor. Those who could think naturally gravitated towards the philosophy, but again thinkers were not confined to any one class.” He was waffling and knew it. But the Gruppenfuhrer’s cold eyes betrayed nothing that could indicate whether he were on the right track. “And by education, I obviously mean readers. There are workers who read, sweat and think and highly educated middle-classers who have nothing more positive in their brains but the cut of their clothes or the next dinner party.” Still Panzermann’s eyes gave no inclination of his thoughts and Ell became conscious of the fast high-pitched ticking of the lie-detector harmonising with the sonorous slow one of the grandfather clock in the corner.
“To understand the rise and acceptance of National Socialism one must look back to its roots in antiquity,” he proposed, letting his thoughts and instincts guide him through the maze. “Not only the Roman symbol of the fasces, but the earlier one given to us by Socrates.” He noted the Gruppenfuhrer’s left eyebrow raised slightly as the ticking of the lie-detector increased.
“I mean,” Ell continued, “if one looks at his dialogue on the immortality of the soul, so eloquently recorded by Plato, we see that the recipient - his interlocutor - was a poor slave, Phaedo, recently rescued and freed from a male brothel. By sharing his last thoughts and discussions with this person who had been at the service of anyone who desired him and could pay for entry, he showed a belief in equality of thought. Education to him was solely based on mind and reasoning, perhaps supplemented by reading. It was a product of mind not confined to any one class.”
“Are you sure you are not referring to Communism?” interrupted the black clad officer. They offer a somewhat similar explanation.” Chills ran down Ell’s spine. To suggest they spouted Communism was a death knell to any wishing to study at National Socialism’s most elite college.
“But would you believe them?” Ell paused and looked inquisitorially at his listener. “History shows us that historians and nations have grossly maligned and distorted the subject. The truth of one country is often represented as a lie by another and it takes a keen reader with a curious mind and the time and energy to pursue enquiries to understand the true meaning behind any historical event or the thoughts and philosophy that preceded and engendered it.”
“Continue, my little lamb, continue,” purred the Gruppenfuhrer as he added: “but don’t forget the original question;” and Jonathan wondered if, like a polite butcher, he was merely reassuring while secretly honing the knife to a keen edge. And he remembered his teacher’s hissed injunction: “they mainly want to see how you think and reason on abstract subjects!”
The young man swallowed again as he thought and moistened his dry mouth with an only slightly less dry tongue. “Of course, I was coming to that.” His mind raced as he thought of little corporals and their ilk, who had transcended class barriers and now hobnobbed with, and even commanded, nobility. They desperately wanted to be legitimised historically. Power was not enough, breeding had also to be supplied even if surrogate or manufactured.
“The central issue is that classes do not exist, they are merely by-products of certain families historical ability to make money, rule and teach their heirs to rule; or be unfortunate enough not to do so and be exploited by others. Communism presents itself as the great leveller, bringing all down to that of the lowest - as the Bolshevik experience showed us - and eliminating those it felt unteachable. This ethic was also somewhat prevalent among the early Labour movement in Britain until it changed direction. But National Socialism is the opposite. It raises those with the intellectual capacities to the highest pinnacle of their societies, while still providing honourable occupations for the rest. And whereas the Communists removed those considered uneducable, National Socialism provides rehabilitation centres where unfortunate elements can be concentrated and tirelessly retaught. It cares for all. That is why it was such a phenomenally popular revolution - not confined to any particular class.”
The Gruppenfuhrer thought for a while as Himmelstadt unclipped the electrodes. “We’ll let you know in due course,” he said laconically, “but in the meantime you might wish to solicit offers from the Jesuits or a Law College specialising in defence of untouchables. Perhaps even consider diplomatic service?”
Words: 999
