Chapter 9

In recent years, Germany has been a country in constant turmoil. Since the birth of the Weimar Republic in 1919, the nation has faced a series of severe trials that have pushed its political, economic, and social stability to the brink. From its inception, the Republic was marked by internal and external tensions that brought it to the edge of collapse on multiple occasions.

The left accused the Social Democratic Party (SDP) of betraying the workers by preventing a communist revolution, while the right rejected democracy and longed for the return of the old imperial system. For the leftist revolutionaries, the Weimar government was a traitor to the workers' cause, especially after suppressing uprisings and killing emblematic figures such as Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg. On the other hand, the right saw the government as a traitor to the nation for forcing Emperor Wilhelm II to abdicate and for signing the Treaty of Versailles, which humiliated Germany before the Allies.

The tensions did not cease. In 1920, the Freikorps (Free Corps) carried out the Kapp Putsch, occupying Berlin and appointing right-wing journalist Wolfgang Kapp as chancellor. The overwhelmed Weimar government was forced to retreat to Stuttgart. A year later, in 1921, communist uprisings erupted in Saxony and Hamburg, which were brutally suppressed by government forces.

But the most devastating crisis came in 1923, when France and Belgium occupied the Ruhr region, the industrial heart of Germany, in retaliation for the failure to meet the war reparations established in the Treaty of Versailles. This occupation triggered an unprecedented economic crisis. The desperate government printed massive amounts of money, causing hyperinflation that devastated the German economy. In August 1923, the German mark plummeted from 4.2 marks per dollar to one million marks per dollar. By November, the figure reached 4.2 trillion marks per dollar. Economic and political chaos intertwined, and the prestige of the Weimar government sank to its lowest point.

In this context of national despair, Adolf Hitler and the National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP) saw an opportunity to seize power. The Beer Hall Putsch in Munich was not an isolated event but the result of years of instability and discontent. With the support of figures like General Erich Ludendorff, Hitler attempted to overthrow the Bavarian government and march on Berlin. Although the coup failed, it exposed the fragility of the Weimar Republic and the growing influence of extremist movements.

The central government, led by President Friedrich Ebert and Chancellor Gustav Stresemann, faced a crossroads. The rebellion in Bavaria, coupled with the Ruhr occupation and hyperinflation, threatened to unleash a civil war. Ebert, a weary but determined man, convened an emergency meeting in Berlin. "We cannot allow Hitler's conspiracy to succeed," he declared firmly. "If the National Socialists come to power, Germany will fall into the abyss."

Stresemann, newly appointed Chancellor, supported Ebert's decision. "These rebels do not act in the interest of the Republic. Their promises are false, and their only goal is power," he stated.

However, Defense Minister Otto Karl Gessler raised a crucial question: "What decision should we make? If we send troops, how will we handle the hostages and the deceived masses? Bloodshed could cost us the little prestige we have left."

The situation was desperate. The rebels had taken key figures hostage, including the commander of the Bavarian garrison, Otto von Lossow, and the state governor, Gustav von Kahr. Additionally, the leader of the Bavarian police, Hans von Seisser, had died during the unrest. Thousands of people, deceived by National Socialist propaganda, joined Hitler's cause. If the government acted forcefully, it risked a massacre. If it did not, the Weimar Republic could collapse.

The fate of Germany hung by a thread. The weakened but determined Weimar government prepared its troops to suppress the rebellion. The world watched closely as Germany teetered on the edge of the abyss.

Gessler could send troops, but he had foreseen the possible consequences and needed to clarify the implications. He knew that any misstep could trigger greater chaos.

"Whoever comes to Berlin with rebellious intentions must be suppressed without hesitation! We cannot allow the March on Rome, as happened in Italy, to be repeated in Germany!" Ebert exclaimed firmly, pounding the table with his fist. His voice echoed in the meeting room, filled with officers and politicians watching intently.

Italy had been a dangerous precedent. The March on Rome, led by Benito Mussolini, had changed the course of history. The fascist leader, dissatisfied with the results of the 1921 parliamentary elections, where his party won only 105 out of 535 seats, summoned 30,000 supporters to take the capital. The riot forced King Victor Emmanuel III to appoint Mussolini as prime minister, thus consolidating fascist power in Italy.

Hitler, observing from Germany, saw in Mussolini a model to follow. The Italian leader's success inspired him to attempt something similar: the Beer Hall Putsch in 1923. However, what Hitler did not understand was that history does not always repeat itself.

While the October Revolution had overthrown the Tsar in Russia, it had not succeeded in igniting the flame of revolution in China. Similarly, Mussolini's success could not be replicated in Germany. The Weimar government was not the weak Italian king; it was determined to defend itself firmly.

"Anyone who comes to Berlin to cause disturbances is a rebel and must be treated as such! There will be no leniency for those who violate the laws of the Republic!" Ebert declared with determination. His style was direct and forceful. He knew that to save Germany, there could be no half-measures.

In 1918, Friedrich Ebert had ordered the Defense Forces to suppress riots in Berlin, and that episode had left the streets stained with blood. The Weimar government was not willing to yield to the rebels and was determined to maintain that line.

"I believe it would be more effective to send the Free Corps. They can handle this situation easily," suggested Gustav Stresemann, frowning as he studied the map spread out on the table.

The Free Corps, or Freikorps, was a semi-military force composed of demobilized soldiers after World War I. The Treaty of Versailles had limited the German army to 100,000 men and the navy to 15,000, leaving thousands of soldiers unemployed. Many of them joined organizations like the Freikorps, which operated outside the restrictions imposed by the treaty.

The Freikorps was not an official force, but its capacity for combat was undeniable. In 1919, they had brutally suppressed the Spartacist uprising in Berlin, killing revolutionary leaders Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht. That episode had left a dark stain on Germany's recent history, but it had also demonstrated the Freikorps' effectiveness in quelling rebellions.

Ebert approved Stresemann's idea. "Let the Freikorps handle this dirty work," he said coldly. He knew that, although it was not a perfect solution, it was the most effective at that moment.

The case of Luxemburg and Liebknecht had been brought before a military tribunal, but it was never properly resolved. The impunity of those acts was a reminder that, in times of crisis, rules were often bent to maintain order.

The Weimar government, though weakened, was resolute. The world watched as Germany stood on the precipice, its fate uncertain. The decisions made in those critical moments would shape the future of the nation, for better or for worse.