The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 139
The Herbert Baum Groups: Networks of Jewish,
Leftist, and Youth Resistance in the Third Reich
John Cox
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe, 1750 to the Present, Cora Granata and
Cheryl Koos,
eds., Rowman and Littlefield, 2007, pp. 139-154
With Germany’s defeat in World War I in 1918, revolution led to the collapse
of the German Empire and the establishment of Germany’s first democracy,
the Weimar Republic. The republic faced significant challenges, including
economic hardship and popular resentment over the terms of the post–World
War I settlement. The Treaty of Versailles had imposed on Germany large war
payments to Britain and France and the moral guilt of the sole responsibility
for the war. In the interwar period, the rising Nazi Party (National Socialist
German Workers’ Party) under the leadership of Adolf Hitler profited from
these conditions to become a mass party with increasing popular support.
When Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany on 30 January 1933, he
destroyed the weak parliamentary democracy of the Weimar Republic. The
Nazis then began the process of consolidating their dictatorial control over
the German government and society. With the policy of Gleichschaltung
(roughly translated as “coordination”), the Nazi program attempted to take
over most aspects of civil society, from schools and youth groups to sports
clubs and churches. Hundreds of thousands of Germans became a part of
Nazi-controlled organizations, such as the Hitler Youth and the League of
German Girls. Under the Nazi vision, all of German society was to be
incorporated into the party’s ultranationalist, racist, militaristic, and
authoritarian program.
However, the Nazis’ control over German society was not absolute, as
this chapter demonstrates. Here, John Cox examines networks of leftist,
Jewish youth groups that organized around the leadership of a young man
named Herbert Baum. Living in the midst of the Third Reich’s extreme anti-
Semitism, anticommunism, and oppressive dictatorial rule, these young
people risked their lives as both leftists and German Jews. They arranged
underground readings and music gatherings, distributed anti-Nazi leaflets,
and even staged an attack against a Nazi-organized anti-Soviet exhibit.
Cox “Baum Groups” 140
Overall, the anti-Nazi underground’s efforts against the Third Reich within
Germany were small, and its abilities to pose a significant challenge to the
Third Reich’s political power were extremely limited. The tragic fate of most
members of the Baum networks illustrates the immense challenges faced by
any who tried to resist. Yet in countless everyday oppositional activities, these
German Jewish young people represented individuals who attempted to
maintain their integrity, political principles, and sense of self in the face of
dictatorship. The inability of such groups to gain wider support among the
German population also reminds us of the mass popularity, or at least
tolerance, of the Nazis, an attitude that ultimately helped the Holocaust to
occur.
On 8 May 1942, Soviet Paradise, an exhibition staged by Nazi
propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels depicting the poverty and degradation
of Russia under its supposed “Jewish-Bolshevik” regime, opened with great
fanfare in the Lustgarten square in Berlin. One newspaper optimistically
predicted that it would be “the most successful political exhibition yet. . . .
Several million people shall visit.”1 However, not everyone was quite as
enthusiastic. At approximately eight o’clock on the evening of 18 May, several
explosives ignited around the periphery of Soviet Paradise. Although fire
trucks responded quickly, a portion of the installation burned that evening.
The German press was predictably silent, but news of the attack spread by
word of mouth, and the dictatorship suffered a rare embarrassment. Had
Goebbels and his immediate superior, Adolf Hitler, known the identity of the
saboteurs at the time, they would undoubtedly have been even more enraged:
this bold action was perpetrated by young Jews—moreover, they were
German Jews who belonged to leftist organizations.
The Gestapo was too efficient and methodical to allow such an act to
go unpunished. Within days, the police had rounded up, tortured, and
sentenced to death most of the members of two underground groups led by
Herbert Baum, who had organized the attack. While the spectacular assault
on Soviet Paradise increased the outside world’s knowledge of the internal
leftist opposition, the Baum groups had already earned a reputation within
the German underground resistance. Herbert Baum had begun building his
network of dissident groups and circles in the first days of the dictatorship,
and it would become the largest organization of German-Jewish resisters.
The story of the Baum groups is also significant because it is only one
example of a broader history of anti-Nazi activism among young Jews living
under Hitler’s reign of terror.
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 141
Herbert Baum was born in February 1912 in Prussia. His political
activity commenced at an early age, which was not unusual at that time.
Baum belonged to the Social Democratic youth movement, the Red Falcons,
from 1925 to 1928. From 1928 on he was a member of the German-Jewish
Youth Society (DJJG), where he met his future wife, Marianne Cohn. Around
the time that the DJJG broke up, in 1931, Baum joined the Communist Party
youth organization, the KJVD. In each of these groups he quickly assumed a
leading role.
Baum was a gifted organizer, melding personal charisma with political
passion. An acquaintance of Baum’s from the 1920s recalled, “In his calm
style he always pleaded for justice. . . . [He spoke] in such a persuasive and
simple manner, that everyone not only understood him, but also agreed with
him. He had everything that a natural-born leader” should possess. Another
old friend from the Jewish youth movement attested to these qualities,
adding, “We all tried to outdo ourselves when ‘Hebbi’ [Baum’s nickname]
participated.”2 These traits were augmented by a “combative nature,”
according to another former comrade, who explained that Baum declined to
flee Germany in the late 1930s because “he saw himself as head of a group
with special responsibilities and believed in the imminent defeat of fascism.”3
Baum’s principal allegiance was to the German Communist Party
(KPD), the world’s largest such party outside the Soviet Union in the 1920s
and early 1930s. Larger yet was the German Social Democratic Party (SPD).
Along with smaller radical groups, the KPD and the SPD grew substantially
during the turbulent years of Germany’s Weimar Republic (1919–1933), and
together the two parties enjoyed the support of millions of workers and more
than one-third of the electorate. But the left was not the only political force to
gain sustenance from Germany’s deepening economic and political turmoil.
Initially a minor grouping in the spectrum of nationalist and racist
organizations, the National Socialist German Workers Party (NSDAP, or Nazi
Party) drew German nationalists, anti-Semites, and other right-wingers
under its banner during the Weimar years. Founded as the German Workers
Party in early 1918, the party adopted its full name in early 1920, a few
months after a thirty-year-old demobilized army veteran from Austria, Adolf
Hitler, found his way into its ranks.
In the early 1920s the Nazis were based in Munich, the site of their ill-
fated 1923 Beerhall Putsch, which led to the deaths of a few members and
Hitler’s conviction and imprisonment. A sympathetic criminal-justice system
ensured that Hitler served less than one year of his five-year sentence. The
NSDAP languished in the political wilderness for several more years following
Cox “Baum Groups” 142
Hitler’s release from prison, but gained greater support as well as converts at
the end of the 1920s. The Nazi Party quadrupled its membership in the
second half of the decade, from 25,000 to 100,000, although this was still not
a large number on the landscape of German politics.
The Nazis combined radical-sounding populism with ultranationalism
and extreme anticommunism and anti-Semitism. Their paramilitary squads
and penchant for street battles with leftists appealed to wayward youths, and
they benefited from an upsurge in nationalist sentiment. While most of the
Nazis’ vote, as well as membership, came from lower-middle-class Germans,
by the early 1930s they received significant support from workers as well.
The worldwide economic depression brought about the collapse of
Weimar’s governing coalition. The centrist parties were pushed to the
sidelines by the Far Right and Far Left, whose parties made significant
electoral gains in the early 1930s, and in July 1932 the NSDAP gained the
largest share in federal elections. These elections mirrored the severe
polarization of German politics, which was now embodied in the spectacle of
100 uniformed KPD deputies and 196 brown-shirted Nazi deputies sitting in
the parliament (Reichstag). By this point a growing number of Germany’s
landowning and industrial elites had come to see the Nazis, whose
hooliganism and overheated rhetoric they had earlier disdained, as their best
defense against the far more frightening specter of revolution from the Left.
In January 1933 President Paul von Hindenburg and other ruling
conservatives appointed Adolf Hitler chancellor, believing they could thereby
rein in the Nazis. They would be grossly mistaken, as Hitler and his
movement consolidated their rule over the next year and a half.
Baum had one foot firmly planted in the thriving subculture of the
German-Jewish youth movements, and the other foot in the Communist
milieu, when disaster struck in 1933. Hitler’s victory would violently shatter
each of those social and political worlds. The German Left and labor
movements were the regime’s first victims: By the end of Hitler’s first year in
power tens of thousands of KPD members were under arrest, many of them
doomed to that feature of Nazism that would come to define its rule
throughout Europe—the concentration camp. Approximately half the KPD’s
1933 membership was subjected to Hitler’s extensive, ghastly jail and camp
system, and some 20,000 Communists perished under the Third Reich.
Meanwhile, life for Germany’s Jews grew steadily more intolerable as
Hitler consolidated his regime. The 1 April 1933 anti-Jewish boycott
proclaimed by the government is often considered the beginning of the
institutionalized offensive against German Jewry; in the weeks preceding the
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 143
boycott, however, Jews were victimized by Nazi militants in cities throughout
the country, including Berlin, where storm troopers seized several dozen east
European Jews to be shipped off to concentration camps. Thus began the
process that would ultimately lead to the death camps, although in those first
days of the Hitler regime neither the perpetrators nor the victims imagined
the “final solution.”
New Forms of Resistance
From the first days of the Third Reich, Baum coordinated a network of small
groups comprising young radicals, most of them Jewish. While Baum tried
his best to follow the political lead of the KPD, his groups accommodated a
variety of political viewpoints. Unable to wage an open struggle against the
Nazi state, resisters in the Baum groups engaged in covert forms of
resistance, surreptitiously dropping leaflets around Berlin, scrawling anti-
Hitler graffiti on walls, and seeking allies among the forced laborers in the
factories where they worked. Baum’s groups coordinated political discussions
and carried out some clandestine leafleting. The leaflets would usually
contain brief slogans or exhortations (“Be a good citizen—think for yourself,”
“Love your country, think for yourself. A good German is not afraid to say
‘no’”).4 Some of these actions were rather bold and imaginative given the
conditions of life under the police state. One former member described an
action led by Baum in July 1934: “Explosives with detonators were contrived
by the anti-fascist underground and placed in tin cans. A metal plate covered
the explosive material and on top of the plate leaflets were stuffed. These cans
were placed on rooftops. An hour later they blew up and scattered the leaflets
onto the streets.”5
But the main activities of the Baum groups were semi-informal
evenings—usually called by the members Heimabende, literally “home
evenings” or study groups—that revolved around discussions of novels,
political texts, and music. Some veterans of the Baum groups later
emphasized that they would have liked to have threatened and confronted the
Nazi state more directly. Yet the evening meetings clearly served a purpose
beyond their educational and social value. They imparted cohesiveness,
helped the participants maintain morale, and attracted new members to
Baum’s resistance network. While such gatherings were not the monopoly of
German-Jewish youth organizations, their centrality for the Baum groups
clearly suggests a debt to the backgrounds of many of their members in the
once-vibrant German-Jewish youth organizations. Gerhard Bry, a Jewish
Cox “Baum Groups” 144
youth activist during the Weimar Republic and later a member of a dissident
Communist group, remembered that he and his fellow youth activists “talked
about everything that existed between heaven and earth.”6 Other veterans of
the German-Jewish youth movements have similar recollections. The
centrality of the Heimabende within the Baum network was also a function of
the youthfulness of the Baum groups’ members—anyone whose teenage or
college years included impassioned, late-night ruminations on theory,
philosophy, and life can identify with the youths attracted to Baum’s niche
within Berlin’s dissident subcultures.
The Heimabende were characterized by youthful enthusiasm and an
almost limitless intellectual curiosity. Rita Zocher hosted meetings in her
apartment, where she and her comrades read Heinrich Heine and more
contemporary authors, while also discussing such orthodox Marxist literature
as The Communist Manifesto and Engels’s Origin of the Family, Private
Property, and the State. The group included several musicians, and they
listened to and discussed works by various composers, including Beethoven
and Tchaikovsky. Zocher and her colleagues chafed under the restrictions
that prevented them from enjoying “theater or concerts, good music and
literature.”7 She recalled that one of the group’s favorite plays was Goethe’s
Egmont. Goethe’s tragedy—which was considered a radical, democratic
statement in its time—is set in the early years of the sixteenth-century Dutch
revolt against Spanish rule. The hero perishes knowing that his cause will not
prevail until after his death. Count Egmont sees the future in a dream vision
shortly before his execution: “She [the vision of Liberty] bids him be of good
cheer, and, as she signifies to him that his death will achieve the liberation of
the provinces, she hails him as victor.”
Two momentous events altered the political and social landscape for
Baum’s groups in 1938 and 1939. The first of these was the Kristallnacht
pogrom of November 1938, a night of anti-Semitic terror unleashed by
Goebbels and other Nazi leaders, which heralded a drastic escalation of the
Nazis’ anti-Jewish persecutions. The second, Germany’s invasion of Poland
the following September, marked the start of World War II. Over the next two
months the Nazi government implemented numerous laws and policy
initiatives that harshly aggravated the plight of German Jewry: among the
more egregious sanctions in the wake of Kristallnacht were that all Jewish
business activity would be banned as of the end of the year, and Jews would
have to “sell their enterprises, as well as any land, stocks, jewels, and art
works”; they would be “forbidden public entertainments”; and Jewish
children were expelled from German schools.8
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 145
When the war began, the anti-Jewish offensive proceeded on several
fronts. Curfews became more restrictive; food rations were cut and the list of
foods forbidden to Jews grew ever longer; and the Nazis began evicting many
Jews from their homes on short notice, continually forcing them from place
to place, reducing them to a status of “refugees within their own country.”9
And for all Jews—but especially for those engaged in anything that could be
deemed “subversive”—the danger of arrest and incarceration loomed
ominously. This debilitating fear was also exacerbated by the events of 1938
and 1939: A month after Germany’s invasion of Poland, Heinrich Himmler
“ordered the immediate arrest and incarceration in a concentration camp of
any Jew who failed to comply immediately with any instruction or who
demonstrated antistate behavior in any other way.”10
The start of the war held additional ramifications for the Baum groups
and other leftist resisters. One week before invading Poland, the Nazi
government signed the Nonaggression Pact with the Soviet Union, leading
immediately to a reversal of policy by Communist parties throughout Europe.
No longer was Hitler the chief “enemy of peace” in Communist propaganda
and oratory, but simply one in a list of “imperialist warmongers.” KPD
rhetoric and literature, as well as action, adapted accordingly, and the
Communist underground resistance was virtually suspended inside Germany
for the next twenty-two months.
New Opportunities, New Dangers
Although many historians have categorized the Baum network as
Communist, it operated independently of any dictates from Moscow or the
exiled German Communist leadership. And over time the groups became
increasingly heterogeneous in their politics, incorporating elements of varied
traditions that always included a strong influence from the pre-1933 German-
Jewish youth movements. Some surviving members later recalled heated
debates within the groups about the Nonaggression Pact and its implications,
as Baum and a few others attempted to defend the new line from Moscow,
while others rejected the notion that anti-Nazi resistance should be
subordinated to Soviet diplomacy. At any rate, while the tempo of their
activity slowed after the pact, the Baum groups maintained their operations
and undertook new forms of resistance.
From 1940 Herbert Baum, along with several of his closest comrades,
was a forced laborer at the Elmo-Werke. Baum was elected representative of
the Jewish workers, and he coordinated a small circle of resisters within the
Cox “Baum Groups” 146
plant and had some success in planning resistance activities—such as
sabotaging production at the factory—in conjunction with Dutch and French
slave laborers. Baum also had indirect contact with the Robert Uhrig
organization, a large Communist-led resistance network that was based in
Berlin’s factories. In the autumn of 1940, Baum learned that Rudi Arndt, a
Jewish Communist and leader of the underground resistance at Buchenwald,
had been murdered there. Arndt, who was one of the first prisoners at the
notorious camp, “encouraged his fellow prisoners to write poems and songs,”
according to one source, “and made the greatest efforts to combat the
degradation of humanity” that characterized existence in the camp. He was
permitted to assemble a string quartet, which performed works by Mozart,
Haydn, and Beethoven. Arndt was also acknowledged by the Buchenwald
authorities as a spokesperson for the prisoners, and was derisively termed the
“king of the Jews.”11
Baum and his colleagues, who by this time—a year into the restraint of
the nonaggression period—were impatient for action, decided to hold a
memorial gathering for Arndt in Berlin’s large Jewish cemetery, the
Weissensee. This was a particularly risky venture, as it involved a
congregation of approximately fifty people at a time when any sort of a crowd
would arouse police suspicion. The memorial was held successfully, and this
bold action bolstered the spirits of the participants and whetted the appetites
of many for further action.
Baum’s group met in various apartments in Berlin during this time,
including that of Charlotte Paech. Paech was born in 1909, and thus was, like
the Baums, older than many other members of the groups. She had briefly
met Herbert as a member of the DJJG in the early 1930s, and was
reacquainted with him in 1939 when he checked into the Jewish hospital
where she worked as a nurse.12 Her future husband, Richard Holzer—who,
along with Charlotte, escaped the Gestapo roundup and survived the war—
was also part of Baum’s closest circle, which met weekly and discussed
various literary and political texts. Like several others who had drifted into
Baum’s orbit over the previous decade, Holzer had once been a member of an
anarchist group called the Schwarzer Haufen.
Furthermore, under Baum’s loose supervision, Martin and Sala
Kochmann, who were also relatively old—they were both born in 1912—
organized a group out of their apartment near the old Jewish synagogue in
the center of Berlin. Martin had been a member of the DJJG in his teenage
years and during the first year of the dictatorship had spent a few months in
jail for his participation in a “leaflet action.”13 The couple (they married in
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 147
1938) had known Baum since the early 1930s. Sala played a leading role in
this circle, making it one of the very few to be led or co-led by a woman.
It was also during period that Baum began collaborating with the
Joachim Group, which was organized by Heinz Joachim and included about a
dozen young Jewish men and women, split almost evenly between the sexes.
Born in 1919, Joachim played several instruments and studied clarinet at a
private music school in Berlin. In 1941 he was pressed into forced labor at the
Siemens Elmo-Werke, where he organized an underground group
independent of Baum’s network in 1940 and early 1941. Joachim initiated
contact with Baum in 1941, and from that time on they collaborated. Joachim
held weekly meetings in his apartment in the Berlin neighborhood of
Prenzlauer Berg for a circle that included his wife, Marianne, who was nearly
three years younger than he, and about ten other young Jewish intellectuals
and activists.
Like her husband, Marianne Prager was a talented musician and an
intellectually adventurous youth. The couple, like most of the young adults in
Baum’s network in its final incarnation, were too young to have had more
than a year or two of experience in the pre-1933 Jewish youth subculture,
although Marianne had joined a Jewish youth group in 1935. She was raised
in a musical family, and played the piano; a voracious reader, she was
particularly fond of Thomas Mann and Leo Tolstoy. “Marianne was so
attached to literature and music,” according to one account, “that she told the
family shortly after Kristallnacht: ‘If they ever come for my books or my
piano, they will have to take me first!’”14
Baum worked closely with two other groups after the invasion of the
Soviet Union: the Hans Fruck group, a small band of Communist youths, and
a group led by Joachim Franke and Werner Steinbrinck. These two groups
would be instrumental in initiating and carrying out the arson of Soviet
Paradise. Franke had been a member of the Communist Party in the late
1920s but, according to his testimony under interrogation, left the party in
1928 due to “my oppositional attitude.”15 Steinbrinck was a “committed
Marxist,” as he would defiantly state to Gestapo interrogators, and had been a
member of the KJVD since 1933, when he was fifteen years old. Steinbrinck
had participated in numerous underground KJVD cells and informal
dissident circles. Through his employment as a chemical technician at the
Kaiser Wilhelm Institute he would obtain the materials for the firebombing of
Goebbels’s exhibition.16
“We Have Gone on the Offensive”
Cox “Baum Groups” 148
In the early morning of 22 June 1941, three million German soldiers,
supported by 600,000 motorized vehicles, thousands of tanks, and 2,740
airplanes, stormed across the Soviet Union’s western border. With the Soviet
Union now drawn into the war, Communist-related resistance groups
throughout Europe, including Baum’s, reenergized their efforts to combat
Nazism by whatever means were at their disposal. Within the first few
months following the invasion, the Baum groups’ activities became more bold
and open, and the members gained a confidence that at times bordered on
the reckless. This audacity was inspired by more than simply an implicit duty
to defend the Soviet Union; it was also spawned by a combination of hope
and misplaced optimism. Early in 1942, Baum wrote a letter to Communist
officials in exile in which he expressed his view that a “mass movement,”
which the underground was ostensibly on the verge of creating, could
“transform” the imperialist war into a “civil war.”17 He added, “We have gone
on the offensive.” If this perspective seems unrealistic in retrospect, there
were some tangible causes for optimism: the slowing of the German offensive
by the Soviets’ successful defense of Moscow in December 1941, aided by an
unusually early and bitter winter; Hitler’s ill-advised 11 December declaration
of war on the United States; and growing discontent on the home front.
The increased assertiveness of the Baum-coordinated underground
stemmed not only from this optimism, but also from a desperation fueled by
the increasing tempo of deportations of German Jews to the east. The
German government had begun deporting Jews from Berlin in October 1941,
sending 1,000 Jews to the Lodz ghetto. By January 1942, about ten thousand
Jews had been forcibly transported from Berlin to ghettos in eastern Europe.
Many of those deported were friends and relatives of the Baum groups’
members.
While exuding confidence, members of the Baum’s circles were not
immune to the deepening gloom and anxiety that gripped Berlin’s dwindling
Jewish population. Unknown to Berlin’s Jews, if perhaps dimly perceived by
a few like Baum who had access to outside reports, the destruction of
European Jewry was well under way. And even if it was impossible to imagine
the intent and scale of the unfolding genocide, Berlin’s Jews were undergoing
their own personal miseries. “The year 1942 was a particularly fertile one for
the creative bureaucrats of persecution,” historian Christopher Browning
later observed. “Perhaps precisely because their victims were fast
disappearing into death camps in the east and their years of accumulated
expertise in Jewish affairs would soon be professionally irrelevant, they
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 149
hastened to construct legislative monuments to their own zeal.”18 “Not a day
without a new decree against Jews,” wrote an aging Jewish academic in his
diary in mid-March.19 Time was running out on the Baum groups.
Soviet Paradise
“Words and pictures are not enough to make the tragedy of Bolshevist reality
believable to Europeans,” began the exhibition’s accompanying pamphlet, so
Goebbels’s team assembled a collection of dilapidated shacks and other
ramshackle buildings to illustrate the “misery and hopelessness of the lives of
the farmers and workers.” Rita Zocher, a friend of Herbert Baum’s since
childhood, recalled that Soviet Paradise was replete with “a great big pile of
dung . . . old apartments, old farmers’ huts,” depicting a society in which
“nothing [was] newly built” and “the people were all robbers and criminals.” 20
The catalog accompanying Soviet Paradise was explicit in its anti-Semitism
and in its identification of Judaism with bolshevism.
Werner Steinbrinck had been working as a lab technician for about
two years at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute in Berlin. He was able to purloin a
kilogram of explosive black powder, as well as a flammable solution, carbon
disulfide.21 He also went to a library, by coincidence only a couple of hundred
meters west of the Lustgarten, and borrowed a book on fireworks. On
Sunday, 17 May, Steinbrinck brought the materials he had procured from his
workplace to Joachim Franke’s apartment, and the two worked for several
hours constructing a few rudimentary explosive devices, while Franke’s wife
Erika attended to the couple’s eight-year-old son.
Beginning at seven o’clock the next evening, eleven members of the
Baum and Franke groups made their way to Soviet Paradise in groups of one
or two. Marianne Baum and Hilde Jadamowitz arrived first, mingling with a
crowd that grew to number approximately two thousand visitors. Steinbrinck
made his way to the Lustgarten and handed Baum one of the explosive
devices. Franke was to deposit another one in a cupboard in the so-called
Speisehaus, or meal room, of the ersatz Soviet village. The conspirators were
compelled to look for another location, however, upon finding that the
Speisehaus was closed that day.22 Steinbrinck joined Franke, and they threw
one of the explosives into a shack that was part of the exhibit, and then fled
the scene when another device, held by Steinbrinck in a briefcase, began to
emit smoke. They tossed it into a sewer drain a few blocks away. When
Herbert Baum’s small firebomb also malfunctioned and began incinerating
the bag that contained it, Baum fled the exhibit, as did the other members at
Cox “Baum Groups” 150
about the same time, approximately an hour and a half after most of them
had arrived.
Despite these difficulties, Baum and his compatriots had succeeded in
placing one firebomb, which burned the shack and a small part of the exhibit
before firefighters arrived and a large police contingent cordoned off the area.
Although the Baum and Steinbrinck-Franke groups had damaged a minor
part of Soviet Paradise, the exhibit opened as usual the next day. The German
press dutifully neglected to report the incident, but the Gestapo set to work
immediately, forming a special investigating committee. Heinrich Himmler,
in his capacity as chief of the Gestapo and of all the German police, received a
telex that afternoon informing him of the “sabotage attack on the anti-
Bolshevik exhibition, the ‘Soviet Paradise.’”23
Arrests and Reprisals
Steinbrinck had planned to meet Baum five days later, on Saturday, 23 May,
but that meeting never took place. At noon on 22 May, Herbert and Marianne
Baum, Gerhard Meyer, and Heinz Rotholz were arrested at their workplace,
the Elmo-Werke. Joachim Franke, Werner Steinbrinck, and all the members
of their group were arrested the same day. Another four dozen people—some
of whom were only tangentially linked to the Baum groups—were arrested in
June and July.
The courage and spirit of defiance of many of the young resisters is
evident from the transcripts. Heinz Rotholz stated, “I wish to add that I knew
about the preparations of the sabotage action against the ‘Soviet Paradise.’
Had the comrades not excluded me from the act because of my Jewish
appearance, I would have gone on Monday to the exhibit and taken part in
the act.” Lotte Rotholz told her inquisitors, “One must utilize every
opportunity to fight against the present regime. . . . But one thing was clear to
me: as a Jew I must not lag behind . . . my ties were and remain with
Baum.”24 Herbert Budzislawski stated that he was compelled as a Jew to fight
“injustice in Germany”—the only way, as he saw it, to find a way to “live in
Germany as a human being.”25
The police dragged Baum back into the Elmo-Werke plant, hoping
that he might reveal some of his collaborators or that some of this friends
would inadvertently expose themselves when they saw their badly beaten
comrade. This effort failed.26 On 11 June the Gestapo informed the state
prosecutor that Herbert Baum had been declared a suicide, although it is
likely that he had been tortured to death in the three weeks after his arrest—
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 151
in either case, a victim of state terror.27 The Gestapo kept no interrogation
records on the case, and simply noted, without providing a coroner’s report or
other evidence, that Baum had “hanged himself”.28 At least three other
members of Baum’s groups died in police custody, either murdered or by
their own hand. All told, thirty-two members and supporters of Baum’s
groups were executed or otherwise murdered by the German authorities over
the next year and a half. Sixteen of those executed were no more than twenty-
three years old. Most were charged with “high treason” and tried before the
Nazis’ “special courts,” which prosecuted political crimes.
Others far beyond the periphery of the Baum groups would feel the
wrath of the Nazi state in the aftermath of the Soviet Paradise attack. On 29
May 1942 the Gestapo rounded up Leo Baeck and a number of other
prominent Jews, including officials of the National Association of Jews in
Germany—established in 1939 and chaired by Baeck—in order to inform
them of the attack, and the fact that 250 Jews had just been shot in response.
Another 250 Jewish Berliners were arrested and sent to a nearby
concentration camp, where they were killed soon thereafter.29 It took little
time for the Nazi authorities to realize the fears of some of Baum’s fellow
conspirators: that their actions would be used to destroy other Jews.
A small number of Baum’s colleagues eluded the police dragnet.
Charlotte Paech dodged the Gestapo for several months until her arrest in
October 1942. Paech’s fate seemed to be sealed when she was informed in
June 1943 that she had been sentenced to death, and was thrown into a cell
with three non-Jewish Polish women who were also awaiting their deaths. As
they were each “taken away, I remained and waited for my execution.” But
shortly thereafter she was transferred to another prison in central Berlin.
Paech used her medical training to help victims of typhus there, and,
strengthened by the camaraderie of some of her fellow inmates and a slightly
less brutal regimen, decided to escape if and when the opportunity arose. “To
my help came a bombing raid. . . . I used the confusion to flee.”30 She survived
the last year of Nazi Germany hiding out in the homes of various people
whose addresses fellow inmates had given her. She eventually reunited with
another survivor of the Baum groups, Richard Holzer, who was at one point
deported to Ukraine and ended up in a Soviet camp for POWs. They married
and, with a few other veterans of the Baum groups—mostly people who had
left Germany in the 1930s, long before the Soviet Paradise attack—the
Holzers organized memorial meetings in postwar East Germany to keep alive
the memory of Berlin’s Jewish left-wing resistance.
Cox “Baum Groups” 152
Legacies
German Jews learned quickly that there was no place for them in Hitler’s
Germany. Anti-Semitic actions and persecutions commenced in the first days
of the regime, both in an organized manner—the April 1933 boycott, for
example—and through violent actions by Nazi mobs. The shock was greatest
for older Jews, who were more likely than their children and grandchildren to
believe that they could preserve the social advances they had acquired over
the course of previous decades. The younger generations of German Jews, far
less inculcated with German patriotism than their elders, held few such
hopes. Jewish youths tried to maintain some sense of community and contact
with friends and acquaintances from their youth groups, which had played
such a vital role in their lives. They also struggled to maintain or expand the
narrow space they had for social and political life, which by necessity was
only among fellow Jews. But the more radical of them sought a means to
realize their desire to resist the assault on their rights and dignity.
Were the Baum groups successful? The success or failure of any form
of resistance cannot be measured in an empirical, immediate sense. There
was never any chance that the Baum groups would threaten the existence of
the Third Reich. But seemingly humble and nonthreatening actions—cultural
activities and self-education, for example—thwarted the Nazis’ ambition to
dehumanize and crush their victims. Collections for families of political
prisoners, food distribution operations, working in a Jewish hospital as
Charlotte Paech did—such acts could not topple the Third Reich, but they
prevented the dictatorship from corrupting its victims morally and
spiritually. Leaflet and graffiti actions, and the rare spectacular act, alerted
portions of the public that not everyone had submitted, that it was possible to
resist. And perhaps most important, these acts of resistance and refusal have
a lasting, residual effect. If the history of world civilization is replete with war
and tyranny, it also shows that decent, honorable impulses and the instinct
for human solidarity can never be fully suppressed.
The Human Tradition in Modern Europe 153
1
. Quoted in Kurt Schilde, Jugendorganisationen und Jugendopposition in Berlin-Kreuzberg
1933–45: Eine Dokumentation (Berlin: Elefanten Verlag, 1983), 114.
2
. Eric Brothers, “Wer war Herbert Baum?” in Juden im Widerstand: Drei Gruppen zwischen
Überlebenskampf und politischer Aktion, ed. Wilfried Löhken and Werner Vathke (Berlin:
Edition Hentrich, 1993), 85.
3
. Hans-Rainer Sandvoß, Widerstand in Mitte und Tiergarten (Berlin: Gedenkstätte deutscher
Widerstand, 1999), 169.
4
. Bundesarchiv-Lichterfelde, Berlin (BA), NJ 1403; Centre de documentation juive
contemporaine (CDJC), Paris, CCCLXXXI-35.
5
. Eric Brothers, “On the Anti-Fascist Resistance of German Jews,” Leo Baeck Institute
Yearbook 32 (1987): 372.
6
. Gerhard Bry, Resistance: Recollections from the Nazi Years (West Orange, NJ: published
by author, 1979), 18–19.
7.
Yad Vashem Archives (YVA), 03/4134, “Testimony of Rita Zocher,” dictated by Zocher in
1979 in Tel Aviv.
8
. Saul Friedländer, Nazi Germany and the Jews: The Years of Persecution, 1933–1939 (New
York: HarperCollins, 1997), 181–82.
9
. Marion Kaplan, Between Dignity and Despair: Jewish Life in Nazi Germany (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1998), 152–53.
10
. Christopher Browning, The Origins of the Final Solution: The Evolution of Nazi Jewish
Policy, September 1939 to March 1942 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2004), 174.
11
. Stephan Hermlin, Die Erste Reihe (Dortmund: Weltkreis-Verlag, 1975), 37–43, and
Lucien Steinberg, Not as a Lamb: The Jews Against Hitler (Glasgow: University Press,
1970), 30–31.
12
. YVA, 03/3096, “Testimony of Charlotte Holzer,” February 1964.
13
. Bundesarchiv Zwischenarchiv Dahlwitz-Hoppegarten, Berlin (BA Zw), NJ 648. 11
September 1934 indictment against Kochmann and others.
14
. Eric Brothers, “Profile of a German-Jewish Resistance Fighter,” Jewish Quarterly 34
(1987): 33.
15
. BA, NJ 1400. 22 May 1942 Joachim Franke interrogation record.
16
. BA Zw, Z-C 12460. 26 May 1942 Werner Steinbrinck interrogation record.
17
. Michael Kreutzer, lecture at opening of Juden im Widerstand exhibition (Halle, Germany,
4 March 2000).
18
. Browning, 175.
19
. Victor Klemperer, I Will Bear Witness: A Diary of the Nazi Years 1942–1945 (New York:
Random House, 1999), 29. The Nazis had just enacted “a ban on Jews buying flowers,”
Klemperer reported.
20
. YVA 03/4134, “Testimony of Rita Zocher,” dictated by Zocher in 1979 in Tel Aviv.
21
. BA Zw, Z-C 12460, folder 5. 22 May 1942 Werner Steinbrinck interrogation record.
22
. BA Zw, Z-C 12460. 26 May 1942 Werner Steinbrinck interrogation record.
Cox “Baum Groups” 154
23
. Regina Scheer, Im Schatten der Sterne: Eine jüdische Widerstandsgruppe (Berlin: Aufbau-
Verlag, 2004), 272.
24
. Konrad Kwiet and Helmut Eschwege, Selbstbehauptung und Widerstand: Deutsche Juden
im Kampf um Existenz und Menschenwürde 1933–1945 (Hamburg: Hans Christians Verlag,
1984), 131.
25
. BA Zw, Z-C 10905. 13 November 1942 Herbert Budzislawski interrogation record.
26
. Helmut Eschwege, “Resistance of German Jews against the Nazi Regime,” Leo Baeck
Institute Yearbook 15 (1970): 176.
27
. Bernard Mark reported that other inmates had witnessed his murder. Mark, “The Herbert
Baum Group: Jewish Resistance in Germany in the Years 1937–1942,” in They Fought Back:
The Story of Jewish Resistance in Nazi Europe, ed. Yuri Suhl (New York: Schocken Books,
1967), 66.
28
. Scheer, Im Schatten, 306.
29
. Kwiet and Eschwege, Selbstbehauptung und Widerstand, 128.
30
. YVA, 03/3096, “Testimony of Charlotte Holzer,” February 1964.</notes>
Suggested Readings
Bauer, Yehuda. “Jewish Resistance and Passivity in the Face of the Holocaust.” In
Unanswered Questions: Nazi Germany and the Genocide of the Jews, edited
by François Furet, 235–51. New York: Schocken Books, 1989.
Brothers, Eric. “On the Anti-Fascist Resistance of German Jews.” Leo Baeck
Institute Yearbook 32 (1987): 369–82.
Eschwege, Helmut. “Resistance of German Jews against the Nazi Regime.” Leo
Baeck Institute Yearbook 15 (1970): 143–80.
Kaplan, Marion. Between Dignity and Despair: Jewish Life in Nazi Germany.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998.
Löhken, Wilfried, and Werner Vathke, eds. Juden im Widerstand: Drei Gruppen
zwischen Überlebenskampf und politischer Aktion. Berlin: Edition Hentrich,
1993.
Peukert, Detlev J. K. Inside Nazi Germany: Conformity, Opposition, and Racism in
Everyday Life. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1987.
Scheer, Regina. Im Schatten der Sterne: Eine jüdische Widerstandsgruppe. Berlin:
Aufbau-Verlag, 2004.
Suhl, Yuri, ed. They Fought Back. New York: Crown, 1967.
Tec, Nechama. Resilience and Courage: Women, Men, and the Holocaust. New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003.