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墨書 Inktalez
Berlin Country Social Democratic Party Headquarters
"Article 13: We demand the nationalization of all trusts (a type of monopoly organization).
Article 14: We demand the distribution of profits from large enterprise."
"What's this nonsense? I absolutely disagree with this new 25-point program. If this program is passed, how do you think the headquarters of Bavaria will react? The National Socialist Party will immediately split."
A party delegate waved the freshly copied 25-point program in his hand and shouted, "Can't you see the big letters written at the entrance of our party headquarters? The National Socialist German Workers' Party - Berlin headquarters." Goebbels mocked.
"Even the interests of the workers are not dared to be upheld, what's the point of calling it the Labour Party? Might as well call it the Social Democratic Party."
"Can the party's financial problems be solved by that group of workers? Can those poor folks support the party with any money? Don't we still have to ask the landlords and enterprise for money?" the member of parliament retorted.
"Then let's go rob the capitalists' money, rob Juncker nobility's money, rob Jewish people's money. There are always more methods than difficulties. It's not because you're afraid of having to give up your family property, is it? I heard last week you inherited a company from a distant relative, with total assets of tens of thousands of pounds." Goebbels turned to personal attacks, his mouth always sharp.
"You're talking nonsense, you short, lame person. How dare you question my loyalty to the party? I didn't come all the way from Bavaria to listen to your nonsense." Clearly, he had hit a nerve.
"And you have the nerve to talk about loyalty? Would you dare donate your family's property, opportunist!" Goebbels also became agitated; he detested being criticized about his physique.
The meeting room immediately erupted into endless arguments, with one side supporting the new Party Constitution and the other opposing it, almost coming to blows.
"Enough!"
Strasser slammed his hand on the table, and the hall immediately fell silent.
"We will adjourn for today and continue discussing this issue tomorrow."
Strasser had to set aside the controversy for now. After everyone in the conference room had left, he slumped into the chair. His brother Otto walked in, holding the ledger.
"This month's bills," Otto said with some concern. "Since we arrived in Berlin, our net income has been negative, and the party is on the brink of bankruptcy."
Strasser held his forehead, feeling a headache over this issue. The Nazi Party had been banned, and the entire organization had nearly come to a halt in Bavaria. Strasser couldn't even count on support from the headquarters; he didn't have a single penny. He had been barely keeping the party afloat by selling off his properties in Bavaria and relying on the friendship of Baron Dezhi, but with the expansion of the National Socialist Party, the funds were about to run out.
What should he do? Strasser thought to himself that he certainly couldn't borrow money from the big bourgeoisie; they would probably flee at the sight of their Party Constitution. Even if Bavaria resumed operations, they likely wouldn't provide funding if they saw Berlin trying to start anew. The northern faction was already struggling to unify opinions, let alone the south.
"The workers definitely won't be able to support us financially, and I don't want to ask those poor guys for money. If it comes to it, I might just have to raid a few Jewish capitalists," Strasser said with a fierce expression, startling his brother Otto.
"Is there actually another way?" Baron Dezhi walked in from outside the conference room.
"Baron Dezhi, what brings you here?" Strasser asked, somewhat surprised.
"I originally wanted to discuss some collaboration matters with you, but I didn't expect to overhear this outside the conference room," Baron Dezhi said as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Don't limit your perspective, Strasser. Goebbels has told me about your ideas. Since you understand the political tactic of pitting one faction against another, you should also know that the bourgeoisie and the Juncker nobility are not united; they have their own conflicts." Baron Dezhi pointed to himself, "I am part of the Juncker nobility; do you intend to overthrow me?"
"Please don't say that, Mr. Dezhi has been of great help to us," Otto said, a bit anxious.
"I understand," Strasser replied thoughtfully.
"Thank you, Baron Dezhi," Strasser said, firmly shaking the latter's hand.
"It seems you already have your own plans, so I won't keep you. Go take care of your own matters first."
Ludendorff set down his teacup. Since being acquitted by the court after participating in the Beer Hall Putsch in 1923, this over fifty-year-old general of infantry had been idle at home, not engaging in any political activities.
"So you want me to contact the various Juncker nobility, especially the military families, to support your activities in the North." Ludendorff took a sip of tea. "But why should I help you? That fool Hitler has already proven he deserves to be a private, and I doubt you, as a lieutenant, can do much better than him." "I support Germany's military expansion." Strasser knew that to persuade the stubborn old general before him, he needed to present tangible benefits.
"After the European war ended, the German Army was limited to a scale of one hundred thousand. You, who come from military families, the Juncker nobility, have either retreated into the shadows or turned to business; your talents have no place to be utilized anymore. The spirit of Prussia is fading," Strasser threw down his cards.
"But if you support me, once I become Chancellor of Germany, I will definitely advocate for the abolition of the Treaty of Versailles and seek revenge against the Anglo-French. Then you Juncker nobility will have a place to wield your influence again."
Ludendorff frowned, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. Although he was not a traditional Juncker nobility, many of his supporters were hereditary Juncker nobles. They came from military families, and warfare was their means of survival. The Treaty of Versailles was the root cause of their persecution. If supporting this lieutenant could lead to a new war, it might not be unacceptable. As long as they held control over the army, this guy would just be a puppet after all.
Thinking of this, Ludendorff immediately agreed to Strasser's request. He promised to host a banquet in Berlin, inviting various members of the aristocracy to generously contribute to the National Socialist Party. The two sides happily reached an agreement, and Ludendorff warmly saw Strasser out the door.
"Fool, do you really think we, the Juncker nobility, will share power with you? You are merely a tool for us to reclaim what belongs to ourselves," Ludendorff thought as he watched Strasser get into his car and leave.
"Fool."
On the vehicle, Strasser watched as Ludendorff grew smaller in his line of sight, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
Strasser's choice of the Juncker nobility over the big bourgeoisie was not due to their strength; rather, it was precisely because of the decline of the Juncker nobility after World War I, which led to their power in Germany being gradually replaced by the bourgeoisie.
This is precisely why Strasser was willing to cooperate with them; it would be easier to rid himself of them in the future. Although these old gentlemen were stubborn and conservative, they could alleviate Strasser's urgent needs. At the same time, the connections and influence of the Juncker nobility within the military would facilitate Strasser's infiltration of the National Defense Forces later on. He needed to increase his leverage for the eventual showdown with Hitler during the Night of the Long Knives. Relying solely on Rom's stormtroopers would not be enough to defeat a regular army.
These guys might think that by supporting me to become Prime Minister, they could sideline me; on the contrary, the day I drain their value will be their end.
Strasser looked at Coy, who was driving ahead, and said, "Drive faster, soldier. I'm about to accelerate."
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