“No one, then or later, has satisfactorily answered the question of who fired the first shot. The putschists would blame the police, and the police the putschists. [Police Lieutenant] Michael Godin said that his company used only ‘rifle-butt and baton’ until the first bullet whizzed by him and struck Sgt. Nikolaus Hollweg of the state police in the head. Before Godin could give the order to fire, he claimed, the police responded as if in a single volley. [Adolf] Hitler’s men did likewise, in a thunderous roar echoing off the narrow street…Hitler was one of the first to fall. He was either pulled down…or he instinctively sought cover as he would have done as a dispatch runner under fire in the First World War. He grabbed his left shoulder in wrenching pain, fearing he had been shot. The blood on him was in fact from [Max] Scheubner-Richter, who had been hit in the lungs and died immediately. The bullet missed Hitler by about one foot…”
- David King, The Trial of Adolf Hitler: The Beer Hall Putsch and the Rise of Nazi Germany
The Beer Hall Putsch of November 8-9, 1923, is one of those great, Quantum Leap moments in history where things could have turned out very differently, if only nudged slightly one way or the other. There were, of course, many moments during Adolf Hitler’s rise to power when he could have been squashed like a bug. But as David King demonstrates in The Trial of Adolf Hitler, there was probably never a better one. It’s not just the twelve inches that separated Hitler from a bullet in a crowded Munich street. Rather, it was the trial that followed, in which Hitler – facing deportation, a lengthy imprisonment, or possibly execution – somehow escaped with just eight months in prison for attempting to overthrow the Weimar Republic.
This is a farce that turned into a tragedy, and the most profound element of this tragedy is the absolute failure of the rule of law.
The Beer Hall Putsch is the name given to an attempted coup by Hitler, General Erich Ludendorff, and the Nazi Party. The plan was for the Nazis to take control of Bavaria, and use Munich as a base to march on Berlin and destroy the Weimar Republic. On the night of November 8, with the Bavarian state commissioner Gustav von Kahr slated to give a speech at the Bürgerbräukeller, Hitler and his goon squad marched into the crowded beer hall and – in essence – took everyone captive. He then declared that the Bavarian government was deposed, in favor of a new government with Ludendorff as figurehead. To cap off matters, Hitler forced his three most prominent hostages (Kahr; State Police Chief Hans Ritter von Seisser; and Reichswehr General Otto von Lossow) to go along with the deal. (Hitler didn't notice that their fingers were crossed). Meanwhile, elements of the SA began occupying key positions around Munich.
If you’re thinking to yourself, it doesn’t seem likely that a coup that starts in a beer hall with 3,000 drunks is going to work, you are correct. Things started to go wrong and Hitler made the mistake of leaving the Bürgerbräukeller to fix them. In his absence, Ludendorff let the three Bavarian officials go. They promptly went back on their word to support the coup.
The next day, Hitler’s “masterstroke” ended in bloodshed at the Odeonsplatz.
After a brief time on the run (partially spent wearing a ridiculous bathrobe and contemplating suicide), Hitler was arrested. With nine other defendants, he was tried before the People’s Court, a ten-week spectacle that makes the O.J. Simpson trial appear functional. (And makes Judge Wapner’s The People’s Court look entirely legitimate). At the end of it, a sympathetic right-wing judge gave Hitler a slap on the wrist. The eight months Hitler spent in “fortress confinement” (a comfortable incarceration for political prisoners) was well worth the notoriety he gained by his speechifying during the trial.
King does a marvelous job with this story. At only 336-pages, The Trial of Adolf Hitler felt both comprehensive and fast-paced. Honestly, I picked this up out of a desire to learn more about this topic, without much hope that it would be entertaining. In this, I was wrong, and glad for it. King has a very lucid and engaging style, and utilizes short chapters that keeps things moving along.
The Trial of Adolf Hitler is split into three sections. The first is a detailed, hour by hour retelling of the Beer Hall Putsch itself. While King does not waste any time providing pre-Putsch context, he does a very good job of leading even unfamiliar readers through the tangle of Weimar politics. A dramatis personae is also included, so that you don’t have to memorize every single unfamiliar name.
The second section is devoted to the trial itself, and this became a bit of a drag, since much of it is necessarily spent on the trial’s devolution into Nazi self-justification. Nevertheless, King ably handles the courtroom sparring between the overmatched prosecutors and shameless defendants. This might have been a black comedy, if it hadn’t all ended with the Holocaust.
The final, shortest section follows Hitler through his short jaunt in prison, as he starts to write his manifesto, Mein Kampf.
Aside from King’s user-friendly style, he is a great researcher, with an ability to find fascinating, unpublished material (or material that has never been published in English) that gives both insight and color to his narrative. For instance, King provides confirmation, via the Landsberg prison doctor’s report, that Hitler really did suffer from monorchism. So, we can finally put that mystery to rest!
To his credit, King does not oversell the importance of Adolf Hitler’s trial. Yes, he could have been stopped here, had he been dealt with in the same manner as left-wingers and communists charged with the same crime. Yet, there were plenty of other opportunities to stop Hitler and the Nazis in their tracks, before they poured gasoline over Europe and struck a match. Thinking about these things is only apt to make you crazy.
My takeaway from The Trial of Adolf Hitler is to marvel at Hitler’s ridiculous luck. The man was a remarkable idiot. Every part of him not filled with hatred was stuffed with bad ideas. His putsch was a ham-handed disaster that should have ruined his career; instead, because of a sympathetic judge, it actually provided him a public relations boost.
This pattern of reckless decision-making validated by blind, dumb fortune, would be repeated many times in the years to come. It was, indeed, a string of fortunate accidents that would not be broken until June 22, 1941 – when Hitler’s legions crossed into the Soviet Union, and Hitler’s mindlessly confident gambles finally caught up with him. It may be said that the only gift Adolf gave the world was his limitless stupidity. That makes it hard, of course, to stomach how high he managed to climb, and how far he managed to reach.