The Reichstag Fire and the threat of communist-inspired terrorism

I. Introduction

On this day in 1933, a fire broke out within one of the most iconic buildings of the German government: the Reichstag. Inside the building, police found a shirtless man from the Netherlands named Marinus van der Lubbe. The man insisted that he had acted alone and that his goal had been to inspire a revolution. But some doubted his story. To understand why, it may be useful to take a small journey back in time - back to the First World War. At that time, socialists across Europe were in pursuit of the same goal that van der Lubbe claimed to have had: starting a revolution. At first, one might think this to have been a disadvantageous time for such a goal. After all, during a war, authorities are on high alert and it is in the best interests of both the military and the state to snuff out anything subversive that could undermine the war effort. Still, the socialists had a number of factors working in their favor. So what were they and what is the connection to understanding the Reichstag Fire of 1933? Read on.

II. The relationship between revolution and war

For a time, the two sides in the First World War were locked in somewhat of a stalemate; hoping to break the deadlock, each side was smashing into the other. Perhaps at the time, this made sense; the supportive industries on both sides had geared up for war and investments had been made to that end. Furthermore, there was much at stake - both to be gained and to avoid being lost. But each attack and counterattack to that end increased the commitment to the conflict and, before long, the sunk cost of participation. After that point, peace without victory was increasingly less fathomable, because it required each side to accept that which was no longer just a compromise of initial war aims, but also farther and farther from accounting for what had been gambled away. And, a government calling off the war inherited a certain risk - above all, for having pushed the country to sacrifice itself and assume the debt of war for nothing.

Of course, losing a war under the same set of circumstances would be even more dangerous. The defeated party would be at the mercy of the terms set by the victor and, by now, those terms could be expected to be in line with initial war interests and as close to offsetting the damages incurred in the conflict. And that was the thing: punishing the loser was a means to convey responsibility for the war, too, all which helped the winner wring the hands clean and secure favor and legacy among their own population. Such a decision would also help to maximize the return that the war-supporting industries expected, all of which kept the government they could influence in good standing. Critically, only victory assured that the benefits acquired could be maximized in such a way while the opponent, defeated, would be in the weakest position to prevent such an occurrence.

So what did this have to do with the socialist ambition to start a revolution, specifically? Simple. With neither side willing to extend the olive branch or reach for the white flag of surrender, perhaps the war would thunder on until one side - or both - collapsed under the weight of continuing to wage war at the intensity required to sustain it.  Obviously, a country would be most vulnerable to revolution in the midst of such a collapse, and this was precisely the state of affairs from which the socialists hoped to benefit.

Another point to consider is what the stalemate looked like for the common soldier in Western Europe. To him, the stalemate was a tortuous cycle of advancing from entrenched position into open fire, only to retreat and fire on those attempting the same. The situation did little to help morale or inspire faith in leadership; if anything, it fostered resentment towards those in command, generating the sort of energy that might lead one to join a war-ending revolution instead of follow orders to depose it. This worked in the socialists' favor by potentially increasing their movement's appeal to the country's fighting force as well as reducing the number of potential enemies who would stand in the way. Similarly, the high casualty rate reduced the number of troops that the government had at its disposal and, with the military fully deployed and stretched thin, its ability to respond quickly to keep order on the home front were compromised. Ergo, should the socialists try to seize power, there was a chance that their efforts could not be immediately challenged.

But there was more to consider. Amidst the cyclic bloodbath on the front, more and more young men were called upon to replace the fallen, and more and more families were affected by the war, experiencing its horrors, and moved by its non-resolution. So, by opposing the war and promising to end it, the socialists had a unique opportunity to become the "voice of reason" in the public's eye; they could thereby harness the energy of the growing anti-war movement and perhaps ride the coattails of a populist, anti-war front into power. 

Meanwhile, the high casualty rate and demand for reinforcements hit home in more ways that the socialists could benefit from. With more and more demand for reinforcements on the front, ever-fewer abled-bodied persons were left behind for the mines, fields and factories. Pressed to nevertheless meet the demands of production, laborers were pushed to exhaustion. Tensions on that front led to strikes and class-based animosity that played directly into underlying messages in socialist propaganda. Besides that, production levels could not be maintained and shortages of ordinary goods increased - an issue already prevalent due to the prioritization of military production over domestic needs. And so, audience that would be most receptive to socialists' messages increased.

III. The German Empire: a special case?

For some countries, there were even more factors to consider. Since 1914, the first year of the war, the United Kingdom (UK) had used its navy to blockade the ports of its wartime enemy, the German Empire. The blockade prevented goods from reaching the German Empire and greatly contributed to its shortage situation. Just as importantly, the outcome of a battle in 1916 - the Battle of Jutland - suggested the arrangement was not about to change. In the battle, the German surface fleet had engaged the larger surface fleet of the UK which, despite suffering more losses, maintained a fleet-size ratio that discouraged a rematch. In turn, the UK retained naval supremacy and the blockade as well as its effects remained intact. Naturally, it was possible for a German submarine to slip under the blockade and, once in open waters, surface so its crew could seize cargo from merchant ships. But the UK had its ships contravene the law and ram German submarines that surfaced. Furthermore, the tactics employed by the Germans failed to bring about an end to the blockade or the shortages it created. 

Unable to stop the blockade, the German navy adopted new tactics and a new strategy: share the pain. Submarines would be used to attack UK shipping lanes en masse - from underwater - before quickly slipping away. The objective was to sink enough cargo that the UK would have its own shortage situation to deal with; perhaps then, the shortages would become extreme enough that the anti-war demonstrations in the UK would either boil over and cause a revolution, or force the government there to tap out and end the war to avoid such an occurance. Needless to say, the German navy could not sink enough UK-bound freight to achieve its objectives. Furthermore, the decision to target shipping lanes helped to stir up anti-German sentiment that led to the United States entering the war against the German Empire, in April 1917. In the process, the US became not just a trading partner of the UK, but an ally contributing some $50 billion USD (in today's value) to the UK's war effort. Realistically, with so much on the line, there was little chance that the investors in the US would let the UK go under.

As dire as the situation looked for the German Empire, the propaganda coming from the US, directed at the German public, intended to make things worse. The US alleged that it would replace "German authoritarianism and militarism" with "democracy" and "self-determination". In effect, the US had a weapon to appeal to emotion and undermine the German population's will to fight, and thus continue to endure the war's horrors and hardships. The timing was critical because the situation on the home front was growing worse for the German war effort; by the end of 1917, over five hundred war-time strikes had occurred in the German Empire and, in turn, industrial production had fallen to nearly half of its pre-war level there. In 1918, half a million workers in the German Empire would take part in strikes.

Still, the German Empire was hanging on. In fact, it had already done so long enough to see one of its other enemies in the war, the Russian Empire, collapse into revolution. The leader of that revolution, Vladimir Lenin, was a socialist firebrand who the Germans had actually deported. He and his allies quickly arranged for peace with the German Empire so as to concentrate on securing power and legitimacy. Needless to say, there was a catch; Lenin reasoned that socialists just like him would soon take power in the German Empire, as he expected that country to collapse under the weight of a long war just as the Russian Empire had. In that case, any territorial concessions made to the German Empire in the interim would not matter, because those same territories would end up in the hands of the socialist movement either way.

As one would expect, the leaders of the German Empire had other plans; inspired by the success against the Russian Empire, they proposed a successful offensive in Western Europe to provide the leverage to end the war on favorable terms there. In the Spring of 1918, their long-awaited campaign began. In spite of initial successes, however, the German advance came to a halt by the end of the Summer and, by the Fall, most of the gains achieved had been reversed. Accordingly, the German government began to consider peace even on the enemy's terms. Still, as this would most likely force the entire German navy to be turned over to the UK, one last strike on the UK's fleet was being contemplated, as this last-ditch effort could influence negotiations. Needless to say, the opportunity never materialized; aware of the potential for deployment and odds of success, German sailors abandoned their posts in a mutiny.

IV. Revolution comes to the German Empire

By the end of October 1918, the German sailors' mutiny had spilled over into the port city of Wilhelmshaven; by November, another German port city, Kiel, had also rebelled. In both locations, the sailors found support from socialist-led unions and striking workers. In each city, they set up councils, organized a military force and took over. The two socialist parties in the German parliament, the SPD and the USPD, responded by proclaiming support for the rebellion. With German troops away and perhaps even opposed to the war, the vision of revolution, and its long-predicted path to power, seemed to be coming true.

The next major action took place inland - in a region in the southernmost part of the German Empire, called Bavaria. Here, German leadership had begun to release those who had been incarcerated during the war for organizing strikes. One such person was Kurt Eisner, a politician in the USPD. After being released, Eisner joined the protests, where demonstrators were calling for the leader of the German Empire, Kaiser Wilhelm II, to step down. But Eisner took things further, and used the opportunity to declare Bavaria's independence from the German Empire.

V. Two heads sprung from one revolution?

On November 9, 1918, a crucial message came from Berlin, the capital city of the German Empire. It declared that the Kaiser had arranged to abdicate the throne. In response, socialists in Berlin, led by former SPD politician Karl Liebknecht, announced that they would be setting up a new "socialist republic" government. Just two kilometers away in the same city, representatives of the SPD had already proclaimed that the new government would be a "parliamentary republic".

The differences were simple enough: whereas the SPD and its supporters wanted a representative government in which reforms were voted on by parliament, Liebknecht's movement wanted worker councils to have such decision-making authority. In other words, instead of just waiting to see which promises were delivered upon in the SPD's "top-down" revolution, the socialists wanted a "bottom-up" revolution, where worker councils would take control of industry and decide, for example, whether to abolish capital and private property. Still, it was unclear whose model would prevail.

As the quest to establish legitimacy began, the SPD and its supporters quickly seized the initiative; within days, they had an armistice signed on behalf of the German Empire, thereby ending its participation in the First World War and securing their own place as the peace-delivering successor government there. In doing so, many of the steps that had helped Lenin come to power had been duplicated. But Liebknecht and his followers were still looking to take control on their terms. Thus, a new struggle, for control over the former German Empire, was just beginning.

VI. The hardline socialists and their violent path

Liebknecht and the socialists responded to the challenge by setting up a new party: the Communist Party of Germany (KPD). In the meantime, hardline socialists had taken to the streets to demonstrate, gain the support of onlookers and push the revolution forward on their own terms. In response, the SPD declared that it intended to disband any riots and, if necessary, use force to do so. The announcement only exacerbated tensions - especially once the demonstrators learned that a policeman had been dismissed for failing to take up arms against the street revolution. Riots broke out, and the KPD decided to join in and raise their banner. In this manner, the die was cast - and the event, called the Spartacist Uprising, took its course.



Revolution comes: radical leftists begin
their war for the streets


As these events unfolded, the SPD-backed government took another step to establish its legitimacy as the new government. In January 1919, elections were held to determine who, besides the SPD, would rule the country. Afterwards, the victors met to put together a constitution based on social democratic and parliamentary ideals. The convention took place in a city called Weimar (hence the term "Weimar Republic" for the state created in the process, as well as the terms "Weimar government" for its government and "Weimar era" for the era in which it existed). Needless to say, the KPD boycotted the entire process from start to finish and remained committed to fighting to take control of the streets.

VII. The democratic socialists and their alliance

In the KPD's publications, one read of the revolution's continued success. But reality painted a different picture. Perhaps the most important development was that the SPD-backed government had found armed support to take down the KPD. That support came in the form of combat veterans from the old establishment, who would eventually be organized into a government-serving fighting force called the Reichswehr. It also came in the form of paramilitary combat groups, called "Freikorps", which could be counted in for the same, common cause. Of course, this support was not to be taken for granted; in fact, before long, the SPD-backed government found itself in the crosshairs of these groups, too. 

VIII. The roots of a nationalist counter-revolution

Part of the problem was that the same talking points that could animate the Reichswehr and Freikorps to oppose the KPD also invoked criticism of the SPD. This was hardly surprising, considering most of the leading figures in the KPD - from Karl Liebknecht to "rote Rosa" Luxemburg and Clara Zetkin - had long-standing ties stretching back to the SPD. Even Kurt Eisner, the Bavarian rebellion leader, had the SPD in his background. Moreover, the SPD had initiated the very revolution that the KPD only now sought to continue and, increasingly, it would all be seen as part of a long-running effort, including sabotage of the German war effort, to seize power. Incidentally, while still with the SPD, Liebknecht had organized the first labor strikes of the First World War. Even before that, the SPD had interfered with the German army's ability to prepare for the war by regularly blocking its military preparation and spending. Eisner's party, the USPD, had explicitly arose in connection with a continuation of those goals.

To what degree the public had forgotten the aforementioned details, all the connections were thrust into the spotlight after Eisner was shot dead, in February 1919. Pressed for a motive, Eisner's assassin, Anton Graf von Arco auf Valley, proclaimed that the USPD leader had been a socialist and, as such, a "traitor" to the war who "did not feel German". One of the guests at Eisner's funeral, seen even wearing a commemorative ribbon of mourning, would later take up similar views before his rise to fame. But, before any of that could happen, another critical sequence of events still had to unfold. 

IX. The hardline socialists go harder

Following the funeral for Eisner, one of his former allies, Gustav Landauer, joined other revolutionaries - like Ernst Toller, Eugen Leviné and Erich Mühsam - and reorganized Bavaria into the Bavarian Soviet Republic. In theory, it would be governed according to a worker-council coordination scheme just as the state under Lenin in the former Russian Empire was supposed to. In practice, just like the political apparatus under Lenin in the former Russian Empire, a dictatorship was born. Leviné proclaimed himself head of state and began to create a defense force from the work force, organizing factory workers into an army of socialists - a "Red Army". Meanwhile, the factories were used to house and train his men. Munich, the capital of Bavaria, was quickly transformed into a "red capitol". Churches and other landmarks became places of administration or outposts to stockpile munitions. 

Facing shortages, including a lack of milk, Leviné asserted his authority and implemented a rationing scheme. He infamously suggested that the young dying due to his scheme were merely children and, if raised outside his control and influence, they would likely grow up to be class enemies, anyway. In the meantime, about 40,000 Freikorps and Weimar-financed troops prepared to descend on the Bavarian Socialist Republic and, amidst early confrontations, at least twenty people were killed.

Behind the fog of war, the hardline socialists hunted down suspected dissidents in Munich. Among their targets was a Germanic-mystic organization called the Thule Society. The hardline socialists claimed it was a counterrevolutionary spy ring. They raided the site and took seven people inside hostage, including Prince Gustav of Thurn and Taxis. The hostages were transported to a school basement. Along with three members of the Freikorps, all were eventually executed by a "Red Army" firing squad.

To the distant east, the Lenin-led socialists in the former Russian Empire heard that the Bavarian Socialist Republic was under siege and vowed to send support. In a May 1919 "May Day" speech, Lenin praised Leviné for transforming Munich into a "Red Army" quarters, suggesting that it was an example of the way forward. 

X. The aftermath

Leviné eventually surrendered to Weimar forces and the violence in Munich tapered off. Nonetheless, what had transpired under his authority had a long-lasting impact on German politics. All the handshaking between the hardline socialist leaders in Munich and Lenin in the former Russian Empire did not go unnoticed; therefore, what was to come under Lenin was seen to be synonymous with what should happen if the hardline socialists were to take power elsewhere. It was not good advertising; in the former Russian Empire, the war on the old order aristocracy and "class enemies" had developed into a civil war with a terrifyingly high death toll for combatants on both sides. And, whereas the people had already been exposed to reports of socialist terror and management in Munich, this was nothing like the reports of what the citizenry in the former Russian Empire was now suffering from. Shortages amidst the war became widespread and took their toll. There were also purges in which people suspected of being counterrevolutionaries were rounded up and murdered in the thousands. In addition, policy that had prioritized the socialist movement's interests over ordinary lives would eventually lead to mass starvation throughout the Russian Empire - and deaths now in the millions. These reports, as well as connections and associations that could not be unseen, would continue to influence how the hardline socialists were viewed in the Weimar state for years to come and form a long shadow from which socialist politics would struggle to separate.

Meanwhile, another connection was emerging in the Weimar state hat could not go unseen. It concerned the fact that the leaders of the socialist revolution - from Eisner, Landauer and Toller to Leviné, Mühsam and Zetkin - had one thing in common, and it was the same thing that Luxemburg, Liebknecht and many socialists at the top under Lenin, in the former Russian Empire, all had in common, too: Jewish ancestry.






Incidentally, Eisner's assassin had also brought this issue to the public's attention, proclaiming that, apart from being a socialist, Eisner did not want to be - or feel - German because he was a Jew. There was, of course, an interesting twist to the story: Eisner's assassin was said to be partially Jewish himself, and had supposedly murdered Eisner after being denied membership to the same Germanic-mystic organization that Leviné and the socialists would raid: the Thule Society. The story made for intriguing tabloid news, but it also massaged the discussion about Jewish identity, and its consequences, into the mainstream dialogue.

There has since been speculation that the previously-mentioned young man in attendance at Eisner's funeral - the future leader Adolf Hitler - may have been influenced by these reports. But, in his own words, what truly left a lasting impression was Munich's rapid transformation into a full-fledged military dictatorship under one Jew, Leviné, as soon another Jew, Eisner, and his populist and worker-first banner, were called out as a hoax. In Hitler's mind, this was a moment of unmasking that showed not only who had controlled the socialist movement, but its end goal, which the assassination had only accelerated the transition to. The same series of events was said to have had an impact on the mind of Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's future political ally who was in Munich to experience the bloodshed.

XI. The cost of power and end of an alliance

In June 1919, the SPD-led government accepted the Treaty of Versailles - a decision that would ultimately determine that government's fate. Although rejecting the Treaty would have meant a resumption of the First World War, the terms of the Treaty blamed the German Empire for the conflict, carved up German industrial territory among the victors or handed it to others and, perhaps most crucially, demanded war reparation payments from the new Weimar state thanks to its suddenly not-so-glamorous position as the German Empire's successor.

Critically, these arrangements would severely reduce the power of the new state and leave it largely dependent upon the investments and will of foreign actors. None of this sat well with the conservatives and nationalists. And, with the SPD-led government signing the agreement, there was now new ammunition to cast both heads of the revolution as traitorous.

XII. A putsch and a new hard revolution

As part of the same arrangements that would weaken the Weimar state, the Treaty of Versailles called for a reduction of the German armed forces. Therefore, in accordance with the new terms, the government ordered several Freikorps units to disband. They refused.

 In March 1920, the Freikorps protested the disbandment order and, in an event that became known as the Kapp-Lützow Putsch, marched towards Berlin. The goal was to overthrow the SPD-led Weimar government, which subsequently fled the city. Fortunately for the SPD-led Weimar government, the military-styled putsch government was highly unpopular, and led to almost immediate pushback. Protests began and, seeing a chance to rally the resistance and initiate a new revolution, the hardline socialists sprung back into action. Once again, clashes broke out between the socialists on one side, and the Reichswehr and paramilitaries of the Freikorps on the other. In working-class districts such as the coal-rich Ruhr Valley, the hardline socialists applied the same strategies that had been used to transform Munich. A new "Red Army" was put together from factory workers - as well as laborers and other working class citizens - and its ranks swelled from 50,000 to as many as 120,000 strong.

As the Weimar Republic braced itself for a new round of blood-letting, the unexpected happened: the putsch government agreed to step down and restore the SPD-led government. Consequently, the strikes ended, the workers put down their weapons and protestors cleared the streets. Once again, the hardline socialists were denied a chance to push for revolution.

By 1922, over 35,000 people had died in the post-war fight to control the former German Empire's fate. The socialists had gunned down old order elites and conservative-monarchists and the forces in service to the Weimar Republic, including the Reichswehr and Freikorps paramilitaries, had acted on their license to kill and smashed back with a vengeance. One by one, the revolutionary leaders had been eliminated, some with a trial. Luxemburg, for example, was shot by a firing squad in Berlin and her body was tossed into the Landwehr Canal. Of those who did go on trial, like Leviné, the procedure only put their crimes on the spotlight - and, arguably, were being used to such an extent to depopularize their associated movements.

XIII. The hardline socialist rebrand and new path to power

Under the circumstances, the hardline socialists had two options. They could regroup, lick their wounds and plot a new violent uprising against the SPD-led Weimar government. Or, they could retool their image under the KPD and try to blaze a path to power through the same parliamentarian system and elected-representative government they had boycotted earlier. All things considered, the decision was simple; although quick to support the Hamburg uprising of 1923, the hardline socialists began to doubt whether violent street revolution was indeed the way forward. Arguably, the German public may have never been ready for such bloodshed. But even if it had, without the extraordinary circumstances brought about by the First World War, and the incentive to transition out of a government unable to bring about victory or a sufficient end, none of the earlier driving factors were present. In any case, the hardline socialists now seemed to agree that, moving forward, power should be obtained at the ballot box, through popular vote.

Of course, achieving power through electoral politics was an ideological compromise of sorts for the hardline socialists, countering everything that had been prophesized about seizing power amidst the First World War. Furthermore, if public perception continued to be influenced by bloody actions and associations from yesterday, the path forward was bound to be long and uncertain for the hardline socialists. Looking east, much had changed; Lenin was now dead and, by 1924, the socialists had secured power throughout much of the former Russian Empire, giving rise to a mega-state that would become known as the Soviet Union. But seven to twelve million people had died along the way, and tales of oppression and horror had not been silenced. Apart from the state-aligned "democratic" press, which could publish these reports to dissuade support for the hardline socialists, hundreds if not thousands of refugees, including religious and "class enemies" had resettled in Soviet-free Central and Eastern Europe and were prepared to share their tales (As shown in the book The Russian Roots of Nazism, some of those in flight may have even influenced the views of Hitler, and some became his followers and financiers).

Nevertheless, this did not seem to stop the growth of the KPD. Immediately after the "Spartacist uprising" of 1920, the party had managed to win just 4 seats in the Weimar state federal parliament. Yet by 1924, only a year after campaigning with the dedication of parliamentary focus, the party had increased its share of the vote to 12.6% and captured 62 parliamentary seats. Taking into consideration all the baggage the KPD had to carry, its quest to seize power through the vote was off to a strong start. But why?

As it turned out, the hardline socialists behind the party also had a lot going in their favor. Not unlike during the First World War, long-term economic turmoil was a boon to their cause. It suggested that the current system did not work, and change was in order. But there was no shortage of economic turmoil in the Weimar Republic. The arrangements that stemmed from the Treaty of Versailles had stripped the Germans of resources and industry-rich territory that, in turn, created a mass refugee problem and a poor, high-competition state. Forced to pay war reparations, the Weimar Republic likewise had a currency that was only as strong and stable as any other currency that was likewise not backed by a strong economy and pegged to endless debt. The state was also dependent on foreign funding, specifically from the US.

Having sat out during the signing of the armistice as well as the Versailles Treaty, the KPD was also at an advantage because it could benefit from anti-system rhetoric. Its own propaganda concentrated on the "traitors" who had sold out the working class or turned their guns on those who, at least according to KPD propaganda, had the best interests of the worker in mind:



Translation above:
"Enough of this system!"

Translation below:
"betrayed by the SPD, vote Communist!"


Betrayed by the SPD! The hardline socialist
movement used campaign posters like
this one to show that the SPD had imprisoned
true leaders of the working class.


By 1930, the "opposition party" focus was especially important, because the SPD-aligned, US-linked Weimar Republic economy had completely collapsed under the weight of the Great Depression. The fallout translated into even greater success for the KPD, which won 77 parliamentary seats in 1930; two years later, the party increased its share of parliamentary seats to 89.

It seemed, then, that the KPD had managed to retool its image into that of a serious political party. At the helm, the party had a popular figurehead in former SPD-politician Ernst Thälmann. What is more, the party enjoyed a solid backing from unions throughout Germany and financing flowed in from a more stabilized and increasingly industrialized Soviet Union, which was becoming a major power. It was no mystery to the Soviet leadership that, even more than the cities, working districts filled with German industry, like the Ruhr Valley, had a warm reception to the Soviet worker-benefiting politics and class-focused prioritization. The KPD became the largest hardline socialist party outside of the Soviet Union and the pride of the Third Communist International. Nonetheless, it was unable to rise to power in Germany.

XIV. The new competition from the hard right

By 1930, a different political party was on the rise: the National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP) - the party of Adolf Hitler. This created an untenable situation where the collapse of the mainstream parties amidst hard times and solid performances by the NSDAP and KPD broke the system. There was simply no possibility to create a workable majority in parliament under the circumstances, and government after government fell to a vote of no confidence. As a sign of the times, four new federal elections had to be held in a span of just over two years. Interestingly, each election featured an increasingly higher voter turnout rate, peaking at an incredible 95% in November 1933. But there are other important details to consider which can help us see what was really going on.

Between July 1932 and November 1933, the KPD took 13.1%, 14.6%, 16.9% and 12.3% of the vote, while the NSDAP got 18.3%, 37.8%, 33.1% and 43.9%, respectively. Some may allege that the NSDAP's gains down the stretch and the KPD's losses within that same period may have been attributable to the Reichstag Fire. After all, the fire was widely reported to have been set by a communist revolutionary, the sort of hardline socialist who would have likely made the public think of the KPD. Moreover, the fire occurred just six days before the March 1933 election. But few would have guessed that the KPD would increase its results in that period, while the NSDAP would lose some momentum. Yet that is exactly what happened in that period, as the KPD voter share rose to 16.9% and the NSDAP voter share fell to 33.1%. So what happened?

Perhaps some Germans expected that the NSDAP had set the fire and done so to frame the KPD. The problem, of course, is the "staged attack theory" conflicts with the accused's own admission to setting the Reichstag aflame. Furthermore, this assessment ignores what was really going on at the time, which very few people have bothered to inspect.

As the electoral results show, the KPD consistently took 13-17% of the vote and never more, suggesting that the party had perhaps hit its ceiling in terms of growth. Even in strongholds like the Berlin, the KPD was stuck hovering around a 20% approval rating, a result it consistently failed to surpass. 

In the 1932 local elections in the region of Prussia, we see the same thing; the KPD had captured 12.3% of the vote, a paltry increase of 0.4% from the previous local election result (11.9%). In that same period and battleground, the NSDAP went from obtaining 1.8% of the vote to 38.6%. Apart from the signs of the KPD's stagnation, these results reveal that the NSDAP had a marginal impact on the KPD's share of the electorate, almost as if the NSDAP had been fishing for votes out of a completely different pond. From the following chart, we see the same phenomenon across Germany - and, also, that the KPD's electoral gains were roughly proportional to the SPD's own losses:



Both of these developments are critical to understanding the situation in 1930s Germany and what really happened with the KPD in that period.

There is actually nothing altogether surprising about the KPD's growth coming at the expense of the SPD. After all, the KPD was born out of a fracture within the SPD, so it was only logical that the KPD ended up pulling supporters very similar to the SPD's own, often at the expense of the SPD. But what stands out here is the lack of growth by either the SPD or the KPD outside of one another, coupled with the KPD's inability to continue to build from within the SPD's niche. What we see, then, is a party that seemed to maximized its potential by advocating working class labor and for-the-people economic change like the SPD did, and was failing to pull in more people who were impressed by the KPD's devotion to communism and ties to the Soviet Union within that paradigm.

With the NSDAP, we see a party that combined the working class' anti-establishment rhetoric and promise of for-the-people economic change with virulent anti-communism and ultra-nationalism. Taken in combination, this platform had a strong appeal to the working class in Germany, but also the upper-middle class, industrialists and self-sufficient agrarians who, along with German nationalists, patriots, traditionalists and conservatives, felt threatened by the rise of communism in the Soviet Union and wanted a strong nation to defend against it. It was something completely revolutionary, but reactionary, and it propelled the NSDAP to reach a demographic that the KPD never could, and push beyond the ceiling that the KPD and SPD were restrained by.

Those who favored the KPD's sort-of collectivism and reform, but were not particular to the communist world view were drawn in by the NSDAP's message, as were those who feared all the baggage that communism was quickly becoming associated with thanks to the Soviet Union, where the population was rumored to be burdened by mass deportations, forced labor, politically-motivated murders and private-enterprise takeovers. Prior to voting 1933, the German public had been exposed to news and rumors about the mass starvation, under the communists, of some seven million Ukrainian people during the Holodomor (1932-1933). All in all, these points surely weighed on the minds of the people, and did little to cause the people to feel for the KPD or oppose the NSDAP's anti-communist position. The public had made its choice. In the words of the German Admiral Karl Doenitz, as written in his memoirs:
"the machinery of the Weimar state had proved itself incapable of coping with internal dissension, economic collapse and unemployment. Germany, then, was set on the road to dictatorship...by the beginning of the 1930s the choice had been narrowed to that of a Bolshevist or an anti-Bolshevist dictatorship...[Adolf Hitler's] aim to keep Communism out of Europe met at the time with the approval not only of the mass of the German people, but also of the governments of western Europe. As a result of his pre-war policy, not only did Germany (and with her the whole of eastern Europe) not fall victim to Bolshevist ideology, but, having achieved that measure of national unity which other nations had achieved centuries before, she also became Europe's strongest bulwark against the onslaught of Communism." [1]

The rise of any government declaring itself a "bulwark against the onslaught of Communism" would have been bad news for the KPD, because such a party was not likely to be any softer on them than the SPD-led democratic socialist government had been. But a government led by the NSDAP was at odds with the KPD on a completely different level; each step towards unifying the German nation at the heart through traditional and national culture, as the NSDAP had hoped to accomplish, was a step away from what the hardline socialists were trying to do, which was break down national unity and strengthen class identity while building up ties to the Bolsheviks. The NSDAP and the KPD were similar in that neither party could really build what it wanted out of Germany without stopping the progress of the other. Ultimately, the NSDAP ended up removing the socialists of all stripes (SPD and KPD) from the political process, stripped them from influential positions in society and put them in camps for reeducation and forced labour - actions that, by no sheer coincidence, mirrored the fate of the nationalists and traditionalists who had gotten in the way of what the communist regime had been trying to achieve socially and culturally with the Soviet Union.

Before these events took place, however, the KPD had an opportunity to take action. Looking at the election polls, the KPD was no weaker than it had been when it had given up on the revolutionary pathway a decade earlier. Moreover, the party could count on direct support from a now-stabilized, and increasingly-industrialized Soviet Union in the event of a new revolution, not to mention support from the unions due to the party's long-consolidated influence there. With the NSDAP transcending class boundaries and packing the parliament with anti-communists, the KPD had its back against the wall. It was only a matter of time before the NSDAP began to implement the policies that would roll back the KPD's social influence, closing the window for the KPD to achieve success through the democratic process indefinitely. Under the circumstances, there was an argument to be made that the KPD's best opinion was mobilizing its base and achieving a zero-hour rebellion, feeding off of the sentiments of the half of the country that had not voted for the NSDAP.  Of course, this would have given the NSDAP all the excuses it needed to ban the KPD from parliament, just as the NSDAP needed to do to move forward with its vision for the country. But before any decision could be made, Marinus van der Lubbe appeared.

XV. The role of the Reichstag Fire

Whether Marinus van der Lubbe personally set the Reichstag aflame, or whether the fire was a conspiracy to remove the SPD and KPD from opposition is actually irrelevant to the big picture. And, within that big picture, the public recognized that the hardline socialists were plotting a revolution because it was nothing that the forces of the radical left had not tried before, and were likely to try again instead of accept total defeat. The KPD tried to distance itself from Marinus van der Lubbe, both to preserve its electoral success and avoid persecution. But the damage was done. The center and center-right felt threatened by a repeat of hardline leftist violence and, along with the NSDAP, voted to ban the socialist press and throw the KPD out; whether the government knew that the decision would enable Hitler to consolidate his power and the power of the NSDAP to essentially establish a one-party government, one can only guess.



1 Karl Doenitz, Memoirs: Ten Years and Twenty Days (Anapolis: Da Capo Press Incorporated in assoc. w. Naval Institute Press, 1997), 476.