The Fuhrer himself, not even a German but an Austrian, a mere corporal, a failed artist and vagabond; the "weird assortment of misfits" who were Hitler's inner circle; the "crackpot economics" and other "intellectual" bases of national socialism. All of this did not make sense to Shirer for a nation "which had given the world a Luther, a Kant, a Goethe and a Schiller, a Bach, a Beethoven and a Brahms."
Shirer details other events, coincidental happenings, bizarre twists of fate, innocuous, banal events that somehow came together to produce Hitler. They were not causes. They are "but for" events, evidence almost of a diabolus ex machina involved. It was as if all the parts of the toaster were put into the paper bag, shaken vigorously and out came the gas chambers.
Among this category of events, was the fortuity of his Hitler's last name. Hitler's father was born "Alois Schiklgruber," his mother's name because he was born illegitimate. The father lived under that name until age 39 when, bizarrely, the natural father, his own name having evolved from Heidler to Hitler, came forward to acknowledge paternity, whereupon Alois changed his name to Hitler.
"But for" this, Hitler would have been known as "Adolph Schicklgruber." As Shirer says,
"Can one imagine the frenzied German masses acclaiming a Schicklgruber with their thunderous 'Heils.'? 'Heil Schicklgruber!'?...It is a little difficult to imagine."
You can sense Shirer's astonishment at the prominence of these chance events in his language and punctuation: "misfits," "crackpots," "Heil Schicklgrber!?."
And then he quotes from Mein Kamph and Hitler's own account of the beginning of his anti-semitism, which Hitler traced to one particular day, and one specific encounter, with one particular person, while walking in Vienna:
"I suddenly encountered an apparition in a black caftan and black
sidelocks. Is that a Jew? was my first thought. For to be sure they
had not looked like that in Linz. I observed the man furtively and
cautiously, but the longer I stared at this foreign face, scrutinizing
feature for feature, the more my first question assumed a new form:
"is this a German?"...[from that day on] "wherever I went, I began to
see Jews, and the more I saw, the more sharply they became
distinguished in my eyes from the rest of humanity. Later I often
grew sick to the stomach from the smell of these caftan-wearers."
The prominence of these events is psychologically unsettling because of their exemption from rational examination. Rational analysis must fixate on the details of a catastrophe if corrective action is to result. No retrospective analysis could identify and isolate the missteps to be avoided in the future, no seminars could get to the bottom of it, no historian could root it out, and hence the realization that despite our intelligence, despite our capacity for reflection, despite our capability for change--despite, in all, our ability to control our world and hence our fate, events like these show us, to our horror, that we are not in control of our destiny, that no matter what we do, sometimes there will be an event, of pure chance, of the stringing together of banal occurrences that perversely mutate into something monstrous.
There is fixation also on the details of incidents like Hitler's street encounter, not because of their significance in explaining, but just the opposite, because of their insignificance and inability to explain. We examine the details knowing their innocuousness, singly and together, and are incredulous, unable to rationally comprehend the horrific outcome that resulted. Irresistibly the reel is rewound and we see the endless ways the outcome could have been different if one banal detail were exchanged for the other.
What time of day did the encounter occur? Hitler used the word "apparition." Was it then at night so that the man would have seemed more ghostly and menacing? If it had happened in daylight, would the encounter have turned out as it did?
How old was the man? Hitler's age, making the contrast in circumstances more threatening to Hitler? Would that have made a difference in the way Hitler reacted?
Where was the man going?
Where was he coming from?
Did he notice Hitler "staring" at him, "scrutinizing" him? If so, what did he think? We know what Hitler thought.
Where exactly did this occur? On what street? Why did Hitler go THERE that day?
Wherever the man was going, did he take his usual route or did he unexpectedly take a different one at the last minute?
None of these things is causal. That's what's maddening. You can't BLAME them so retrospective analysis can't proscribe against their recurrence, but change any one and astonishingly, maddeningly, the encounter doesn't take place.
Clearly anti-semitism would have come to Hitler, if not on this day then some other. But it did happen on this day, on that street, with that man. Who's to say that on another day the encounter wouldn't have struck Hitler so forcefully?
Who's to say that a delay of even a month or two months in the onset of Hitler's anti-semitism wouldn't have thrown off the timing of his rise to power?
Who's to say that if Hitler were known as Adolph Schicklgruber he wouldn't have become the Nazi leader?
And so, we rewind the film, and we become an observer of this developing catastrophe, to ache at the fall of each snowflake that we know is going to result in the avalanche, and as we're watching, we want to say "no," "don't leave now," "don't go that way," "don't look at him" and we find ourselves powerless to do any of that and to have to just watch as the nightmare unfolds, banal detail by banal detail.
And so I imagine that day. The encounter occurs not in daylight but at dusk. Hitler wanders but, attracted by the architecture of some building, heads in it's direction, toward the Inner City.
The man is in his home, preparing to go to evening services. He is a serious man, his countenance even grave. He heads out onto the street.
It is a winter day and so the days are short. Hitler is cold and, as he always was in Vienna, hungry. The man is well-set. Hitler will unconsciously contrast that with his own gauntness.
The man has a functional coat and a hat. Hitler's coat is worn, thin and ineffective.
As he walks, cold, hungry, tired, Hitler thinks of how Vienna is trying to break him, how he has come to hate the city for it's failure to recognize his talent as an artist, to provide him with the kind of job he feels himself worthy, to feed him, house him and protect him against the cold.
It is not late at night because Hitler, lacking proper shelter, would not have wanted to be out as the city got darker and colder.
The man is thinking of his religion. He is absorbed in thought and walks the same route that he has always walked to the synagogue. He looks at the ground a few paces in front of himself. Hitler just wanders, looking at his surroundings, the buildings and the people.
The man is in middle age, 40's-50's. An elderly man walking with difficulty with a cane might have engendered some sympathy in Hitler, or at least not have seemed as threatening.
Hitler is looking up to keep the building in sight but as he gets closer his view is blocked by the buildings nearer to him and he is unsure now where to turn.
Both men are lost in thought.
Hitler turns down the street. He randomly turns down this street rather than that street and randomly walks on this side of the street rather than on that side and now he and the man are walking toward each other.
The man walks purposefully if mechanically. Hitler walks slowly and aimlessly.
There is a corner in the street. Hitler turns the corner and the man is a few yards in front of him. Lost in thought, Hitler is startled. The man's thought is broken too and he looks up.
Hitler sees a larger man than himself, dressed in black, in clothes foreign to him. The man's hat and full beard make his grave countenance more alien and menacing. The soft gas light of the street lamps obscures the details of his face, making them mysterious.
The two men's eyes meet, Hitler's startled and wide-eyed, the man's sharp and penetrating. In the inadequate light Hitler sees only the eyes and the angular nose that dominates the face.
The two have to alter their strides slightly to pass each other, and they pass so closely they almost brush. As they pass the air carries their smell to the other.
The man continues on, just one of many daily encounters in a big city.
Hitler though is confused by what he has seen. "Is this a Jew?..."Is this a German?" He pauses and then stops. He hears talking, in a foreign tongue.
The man has seen a friend and has stopped to talk. The man and his friend pivot and their positions change, so that now the man is facing down the street he just came, in Hitler's the direction.
After being startled, after being confused, after pausing and hearing men talking, after stopping, Hitler steps around the corner to look further:
"I observed the man furtively and cautiously..."
The man has already forgotten about Hitler and is now absorbed in conversation. Hitler is in his field of vision but only as a dark shadow in the background. The image doesn't consciously register with him.
Hitler continues to look and now "stared at his foreign face, scrutinizing feature for feature."
The man ends his conversation with his friend and insouciantly walks away, his back now to Hitler. Hitler continues to stare, oblivious to the man's friend who is now walking toward him. The friend sees Hitler staring down the street, but Hitler does not notice him.
The friend passes Hitler, still staring, and as he gets a few steps past he briefly turns and looks back at this strange little man staring down the street after his friend. He turns back around and continues walking.
Hitler's stare is still fixed on the man going to temple who gets farther and farther away and smaller and smaller in the distance. Hitler continues to stare. In the soft gas light and the deepening gloom of evening the man becomes just a black form on the streetscape. Hitler continues to stare. And the darkness gathers.
-Benjamin Harris
PUBLIC OCCURRENCES
