Research about antisemitism in Germany was recently given a boost by Daniel Goldhagen’s Hitler’s Willing Executioners. Goldhagen’s claim that a radical, “eliminationist” antisemitism was a constant feature of modern German history was accepted as a challenge by many historians who oppose his views. In response to his assertion that German antisemitism was constant and unchanging, leading in a direct path to Auschwitz, historians scrutinized the various manifestations of Jew-hatred in different periods, attempting to show that its level was not constant and that radical antisemitism was not widespread in German society at all times.
The study of antisemitism thus came to be part of the long debate about continuity in German history, about the question whether the Third Reich was the final link in a chain of developments that led directly to it, or was a break in German history, an accident, a Betriebsunfall. That debate broke out into the open in Germany in the early 1960s, with the controversy about Fritz Fischer’s book Griff nach der Weltmacht. Fischer claimed that German politics prior to and during World War I had common characteristics with Nazi politics, and Nazi rule was a logical consequence of previous German history. His book aroused the stormy indignation of most German historians at the time. Since then, German historians have become less defensive about their past; nevertheless, that debate seems to rise time and again, in various forms, to the forefront of German historiography. In that sense, the dispute surrounding Goldhagen is yet one more manifestation.
The Weimar period, immediately preceding the Nazi rise to power, is the most important period to be researched concerning the question of continuity. Is it possible to find in that period manifestations of antisemitism that paved the way for the developments during the Third Reich and can help us better understand what happened then? This article will attempt to deal with that question by studying antisemitism in tourist resorts, which is one aspect of the “everyday antisemitism” that was present in Weimar Germany.
German Jews, like everyone else, needed the break from routine provided by vacations. In fact, these were an almost sanctified part of their lives. A clear testimony to that is the complete standstill to which the activities of the numerous Jewish organizations came each year during the summer months. Only in the autumn, when everyone returned from their vacations, were activities resumed. This in spite of the fact that the majority of Jews were selfemployed, mostly merchants, and closing their business for a vacation meant a loss of income.
The greater part of studies on antisemitism are concerned with antisemitic organizations or leaders and base their research on what they wrote and printed. However, it was recently noted that,
the antisemitism of the National Socialists was first and foremost an ideology of the spoken, not of the written, word... Hitler used mainly the medium of speech... Books were of secondary importance for him, intellectuals he loathed... Therefore, it is extremely puzzling that the research on antisemitism in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries had focused until recently on the written word, especially the writings of intellectuals. Only in recent years, especially due to studies of the Vormärz period [the years preceding the revolution of 1848-J. B.], had attention been turned to the forms of Jew-hatred from below, where the emphasis lies in the act.
Most of the modern research concentrates on antisemitic arguments and propaganda. Apart from the Nazi period itself, very little has been written about the results of antisemitic propaganda — that is, the forms that antisemitism assumed in the daily contact between the Jews and their surrounding society. However, antisemitic propaganda was something that Jews could choose to ignore — and many of them did. They did not have to read antisemitic writings or attend antisemitic meetings, and they could ignore press reports about antisemitic movements or agitation. The aspects of antisemitism that the Jews could not ignore were those that they encountered in their day-to-day lives. This article will concentrate on the antisemitism encountered by Jews during their vacations, at tourist facilities. Thus, unlike most studies on “everyday antisemitism,” it will deal with the antisemitism as experienced in the daily lives of the Jews, and not of the antisemites or of the Germans in general. This subject, unexamined until now, can shed some new light on the question of continuity between Weimar and Nazi antisemitism and the forms by which the developments in Weimar preceded and paved the way for what happened to the Jews after Hitler’s rise to power.
Vacations in Germany
In modern Germany, there were different sorts of vacations. In the nineteenth century, traveling to distant places was a luxury available only to the rich. They traveled mostly in the tradition of the Enlightenment, using it as a means of self-improvement, of Bildung, both physically and spiritually. Travel was viewed as a means of enriching one’s soul, by visiting great centers of civilization and culture, seeing far-away places and accumulating new experiences, or, alternatively, of improving one’s health, especially in the spas, the Kurorte, and Bäder.
The middle classes in Germany were able to take “time off” from their work and had the financial means to spend money on travels and accommodation, but they did not have the necessary means to travel to distant places. Towards the nineteenth century they developed their own kind of vacation: the Sommerfrische. As the name suggests, the emphasis was on fresh air, as opposed to the air of the city. The Sommerfrische was a counter-world to the urban working place. It was spent in rural surroundings, close to nature, in simple conditions, with an emphasis on quiet and health. Due to the financial limitations, those places could not be too far away from the cities and had to be easily accessible by train. That tendency led to the creation of tourist centers, especially in the mountains (such as the Harz mountains, the Riesengebirge and Sächsische Schweiz) and the great forests (such as the Black Forest, or the Thuringian Forest), which offered fresh air, plenty of nature, and environments that were not even remotely reminiscent of the big urban centers.
These tourist centers consisted of small towns and villages offering a small variety of hotels, pensions and rooms, catering to various financial possibilities and desires (such as a central location vs. a remote location out of the community). The middle-class vacationers were not looking for new experiences. All that they wanted was a place to rest and, to use a modern term, “recharge their batteries.” Therefore, they tended to come to the same place and to the same hotel or pension for their vacations, thus ensuring a measure of financial stability that enabled the further development of that new tourist industry for the middle classes.
In the Weimar period, the tourist industry had undergone great expansion, as members of the lower middle classes, and even members of the working class — classes that had not traveled in the past — began to spend their vacations this way, and it created a need for new tourist facilities. There were several reasons for this development, starting with the desire to wander (wandern) and see other places, which was extremely popular in post-World War I German society and was manifest by the huge amount of “wandering” societies (Wandervereine) that were established all over the country during that time. The Jewish Wandervereine of the Weimar period were one expression of that phenomenon.
This was combined and, in part, led to other factors that encouraged travel, such as: a general reduction in travel costs; the creation of special agencies, or travel offices, that enabled potential vacationers to travel in groups and get reduced prices in trains and hotels; the tendency of some organizations connected to the large subcultures (e.g. Socialists, Catholics, etc.) of Weimar to offer their members cheaper traveling arrangements as a means of attracting new members and maintaining the existing members’ loyalty to the subculture and its values. As a result of these factors, to members of those classes, travel no longer seemed a luxury, reserved for the affluent or for rare occasions, but had become a necessity.
Seaside resorts became especially developed. One of the stimulants was contemporary medical opinion that emphasized the importance of sea air, as well as the importance of sun-bathing, especially for people who spent their work time within closed spaces. As the number of clerks and hired personnel was steadily growing, the demand for seaside vacations also increased. The sun-tan, proof of such a vacation, became a sign of social prestige.
The Jews were not much different in this respect from the surrounding society. But while they took their summer vacations, before the Weimar period they did not necessarily spend it in hotels or tourist facilities. Memoirs of Jews that grew up during the Second Reich show that many Jewish families spent their summer vacations in the homes of parents and relatives in rural areas, mainly in the east. The process of inner migration, from east to west and from village to town, that took place in industrializing Germany during the second half of the nineteenth century, created a situation in which many of the urban Jews had been born and raised in the countryside. Spending their vacation at their former home, or at the homes of close relatives, was certainly cheaper than a hotel. It was also more than a simple vacation. It was a family reunion, by which the young offspring were also introduced to the family roots. Memoirs indicate that, during the vacation, the urban Jews visited many other relatives who lived close by (or were visited by them) and went to the family graves in the local Jewish cemetery.
Of course, many non-Jewish city-dwellers also stemmed from the countryside, but it appears that spending vacations with rural family members was more widespread among Jews. The migrating Jews were members of the newer middle class — merchants and academics — and they had the time and the financial ability to spend part of the summer away from the workplace. On the other hand, the majority of non-Jews who had migrated to the towns became industrial workers.
During the Weimar period, many more Jews traveled on their vacations to hotels and tourist facilities. The reasons were mainly those we have described above. The Jews were a part of the bourgeois society and adhered to its social norms, and when hotels and seaside resorts became the norm for vacations, it affected the Jews. Apart from that, the number of Jews still living in villages and rural small towns had dwindled, so there were fewer relatives with whom the urban Jews could reside. And as for the eastern area, most of it had now become Polish territory.
How did the vacationers spend their time? For seaside vacationers, the sea and sun-bathing were the main attractions, but there were others as well. The brochures sent by resorts listing the local attractions in order to appeal to potential visitors pointed out other possibilities, mainly nearby woods. In fact, woods and forests figured prominently in nearly all flyers sent by resorts. A major pastime of vacationers was walking in woods and forests, breathing fresh air and admiring German nature. Many tourist centers built paths leading into the forests, with benches along them. Each center had a local institution, such as a spa management commission (Kurverwaltung), that was responsible for tourist matters. These institutions were also responsible for offering more attractions to vacationers. They built promenades and parks, hired bands that played popular music, and sometimes theater groups for the guests to enjoy their evenings. The hotels themselves also provided for some of their guests’ leisure time. In almost every hotel (at least those catering to the bourgeoisie) there was a reading room with books and newspapers, and many also had a music room. According to memoirs and descriptions, much reading was done during vacations, combining the betterment of body and mind.
The vacation was connected with a demand for total peacefulness and rest, “völlig ruhiges Aufenthalt.” Any disturbance was considered by some guests as intolerable. The presence of a retarded child with an unpleasant appearance and noisy eating habits in a hotel dining room led to a threat by a group of visitors to leave the hotel immediately if he were not sent away. Remarkably enough, that demand was led by a guest who was a respected and long-serving doctor. Such an ultimatum was not considered illegitimate at the time; on the contrary, the person reporting the incident noted that the family of such a child would have been refused admission in any hotel if the child had been seen by the hotel owner.
Such peace of mind was considered by many as a crucial condition for a successful vacation. The vacationer should rest from his hard work, from the fast tempo of urban life, so he could return home refreshed and relaxed, both bodily and physically. But for German Jews during the Weimar period, such peacefulness was not guaranteed. Rather, a vacation could sometimes become a painful reminder of the hate harbored against them among broad sections of German society.
This was not to be expected in advance. Jews, as a sector with a large concentration among the bourgeoisie, were renowned consumers of the tourist industry. They traveled extensively, frequenting hotels, pensions, and restaurants all over the country. In fact, the tourist industry needed its Jewish clients more than most sectors of the German economy.
Jews were important to tourist centers not only as visitors. For example, Jewish doctors sent patients to sanatoriums and health institutions, especially on the North Sea. Moreover, Jews were in a position to influence public spending concerning such facilities. For example, Jewish municipal physicians sent many needy patients to health resorts on public funds, and Jews who were leading members of professional associations could influence the choice of venues for their large annual meetings.
The importance of Jewish guests to tourist towns is attested to in many cases. For example, when a Nazi propaganda office was opened in April 1931 in Bad Neuenahr, a telegram from the CV (Centralverein deutscher Staatsbürger jüdischen Glaubens) to the spa management (Kurdirektion), merely requesting more information on the situation was enough to cause that Kurdirektion to respond in a very worried letter. It promised to do all within its power to make the Nazi office disappear and, in any case, to make certain that no Jewish guest would be insulted in any way whatsoever. The CV was requested to avoid publishing in its papers any information that would keep guests away from the resort.
Similarly, the resort of Bad Harzburg, which had a reputation for right-wing activity due to the “Bad Harzburg Front,” was always considered a friendly place for Jewish tourists, even when there were six Nazis among the fifteen members of the town council in 1932. In fact, the local mayor wrote to the CV right after the renowned right-wing conference in his town in order to declare that any impression that Jews would not be welcome in Bad Harzburg was false and there was no reason whatsoever for Jews “to avoid our beautiful town, that was always visited gladly by their co-religionists.”
Even when Jewish guests were bothered and complained in writing, the Kurdirektor immediately responded with letters expressing his great sadness, condemning the incidents, and reporting on actions taken against the wrongdoers, including police efforts to find them. The CV in Berlin also wrote to one of the complainants, declaring that Bad Harzburg “is in no way to be considered anti-Jewish” and rejecting any suggestion to publish a warning concerning the place. In fact, even in May 1933, the chairman of the local CV group (himself a hotel owner) reported enthusiastically to Berlin about the enjoyable and trouble-free time the Jewish guests had enjoyed there during Easter. He mentioned City Commissar Berndt, to whom he had sent a letter of thanks for his pre-holiday promise to do all within his power so that Jewish guests would not have any trouble in the town.
Tourist facilities, therefore, were not a place were one would look in advance for antisemitism. However, the change in the social climate had its effect. To begin with, during the Weimar period, when many more people were traveling, the proportion of Jews among the clientele of tourist facilities and resorts declined. But this change in itself had only a minor effect. The tourist industry had expanded in response to the greater demand and became more diverse, with various establishments catering to the tourists’ different needs and financial capabilities. The importance of Jews as clients of those facilities aimed at the middle classes did not change much. Moreover, another technical development that had an influence on the tourist industry was the automobile; now vacationers could travel to new places and were not limited by the railroad networks. So it seems that, in the Weimar period, lowermiddle-class vacationers replaced the bourgeoisie at simpler tourist facilities accessible by train, whereas members of the upper middle classes looked for better hotels that were not necessarily connected to railroads. Even though the Jews’ proportion among the total number of the domestic tourists had largely diminished, their share within the sector of the tourist industry that catered to the bourgeoisie still remained significant.
Moreover, the economic crisis of the late 1920s and the 1930s had negatively affected the traveling possibilities of the lower middle class and the workers. This is clearly indicated by a study of the votes that were cast in the major train stations of Germany in the July 31, 1932, elections. That date was in the middle of the summer, and the voters at those ballots were travelers who were away from their homes. The parties connected with the lower classes, the Socialists and Communists, as well as the Zentrum in Catholic areas, were largely underrepresented in these places in comparison with their overall results. Mass tourism had dwindled; yet the Jewish bourgeois carried a larger weight among the prospective clients of the tourist industry.
What did change in the Weimar period was the amount of antisemitism felt and expressed by other guests. Growing numbers of Christian Germans were claiming that Jews were a disturbance to their vacation. Thus, there were cases of hotel owners who were not antisemitic but chose not to accept Jews for business reasons. H. Gerken, a hotel owner in Wangerooge (on the North Sea), wrote to a Jew who inquired about his hotel that he has an old clientele that comes every year. The presence of Jewish families one summer led to “great unpleasantness” among his old guests, and, since he wishes to keep them, he decided not to accept Jews. He asked that his decision be seen only as a business decision, not as his personal standpoint. Other letters that he sent to Jews, written in a very polite manner, clearly not typical of antisemitic hotel owners, attest to the fact that he was not lying.
In fact, it was in the 1930s, when vacationers at German tourist centers were mainly members of the higher echelons, that the Nazi party was highly overrepresented among the votes cast in the resort areas of Bavaria. The right wing DNVP was also over-represented in those areas. Richard Hamilton concluded that the support for the Nazi party among summer vacationers in the July 1932 election was between 40 and 50 percent. That led to the overrepresentation of the Nazis in the tourist centers in Bavaria, but also to an under-representation of that party in the northern resort areas, where a substantial majority of the local population voted for the NSDAP.
Antisemitic Hotels and Resorts
There were several ways by which Jews could encounter antisemitism during their vacations at resorts and tourist facilities. The first encounter of vacationbound Jews with antisemitism could come as early as the planning stage, in the choice of the resort and the particular hotel in which they would reside. Many hotels and pensions declared themselves open only for Christians or members of the Aryan race. Moreover, quite a number of localities as a whole took a similar attitude, announcing that Jews would not be welcome in that area. Such was the spa board (Badeverwaltung) in Müritz, Mecklenburg, which answered a Jew inquiring about the place that “in our resort, Jews are accepted only in extremely extraordinary cases and their coming is undesired.”
The social dynamics that led the populations in such places to declare the whole locality antisemitic are a subject that has not yet been studied and should prove a fascinating research field. There are indications about some of those places that point to the influence of one antisemitic respected personality on a small and backward population. The small town of Vitte in Hiddensee (an island near Rügen) published a prospectus in 1922, and again in 1923 and in 1926, stating that Jews do not visit that place. A letter to the CV from Berlin, providing information on the locality as given by a teacher in a nearby town, claimed that the local population is not antisemitic and welcomes Jewish guests. The inclusion of the antisemitic remark was suggested to the council by the local spa-physician (Badearzt) Dr. Leible and accepted due to his authority as the only intellectual in the place. In Masserberg, in the Thuringian Forest, it was the chaplain, a highly influential personality, who wrote an antisemitic letter to the CV on behalf of the local tourist board and was described by one hotel owner as the driving force of attempts to enhance local antisemitism.
The most famous antisemitic resort was the North Sea island of Borkum, just off the coast of East Frisia. Its antisemitism was famed through the “Borkum Lied” (“Borkum song”), especially the last verse, which said that those who come with “flat feet, crooked noses and curly hair” (mit platten Füßen, mit Nasen krumm und Haaren kraus) must not enjoy the beach, but must be “be out! be out! out!” (der muß hinaus! der muß hinaus! Hinaus!). It became a usual practice at the island for the local orchestra to play this song at the end of each appearance, and the crowd would join in. The words were distributed on postcards, depicting a picture of Germans singing with hands raised and filled glasses, and a group of typical Jews, with “Nasen krumm und Haaren kraus,” being turned away at the gate.
In mid-1924, the island and its song became the center of a political controversy. The Prussian socialist minister of the interior, Severing, forbade the band to play the song. The regional chief magistrate at Emden, the Socialist Bobert, published an ordinance enforcing the minister’s decision. But following that ordinance, the regional court of Emden instructed that anyone hindering the performance of the song would be fined 100,000 Goldmarks. Shortly afterward, as the performances continued, the chief magistrate suspended the spa-manager (Kurverwalter) of Borkum from his post, while the Prussian government announced that it would take steps against the regional court. The local authorities in Borkum responded by appointing as the new Kurverwalter the Nazi Reichstag member Henning, who had parliamentary immunity from arrest. Henning’s first act as manager was to order the band to continue playing the song.
Even though Henning could not be arrested, other officials and the band members could not violate official instructions. Moreover, Interior Minister Severing ordered that the local council of Borkum pay a fine of 100 Goldmarks each time the song was played. In an act of defiance, a new song was composed, called “Borkum Trutz Lied.” This was now played instead of the forbidden “Borkum Lied,” and, following it, the crowd would sing the forbidden song itself, without the band accompaniment. Later it was reported that the local pro-Nazi preacher, Münchmeyer, assembled a group of children aged nine to fourteen and led them through the streets playing and singing the forbidden song. Of course, the children could not be arrested. They would also “perform” in local restaurants, but were sent away from the train station (which was an official government installation). In May 1925, the higher court of Prussia (led by a former minister of the nationalist DVP party) overruled the minister’s decision about the fine. Thus, the band was able to play the original song, even though singing the words was not permitted (not that it mattered, since the band did not sing; the singing was done by the crowd).
In the meantime, the song became a point of envy in other resorts, and they had their own songs composed for them, such as the “Wangerooger Judenlied” in the nearby island of Wangerooge, or the song of Bad Zinowitz in Pomerania, which ended with the words “We don’t want any foreign race. The Itz stays far from Zinnowitz.”
Some Jewish associations, mainly the CV and the weekly Israelitisches Familienblatt, responded to this trend by publishing lists of antisemitic hotels and resorts and advising their Jewish readers to keep away from these places. The CV began publishing such lists in its periodical Im deutschen Reich before World War I, each year in May and June, in advance of the tourism season. During the Weimar period this project reached exceptionally wide dimensions, and, in 1932, the CV did not publish a list, but established a special service, Reisedienst, for informing individual Jews about antisemitism at specific resorts. It appears that, by that year, a simple list of antisemitic places was no longer enough. Their numbers had reached such proportions that sometimes the Jews had to be informed which places in a particular resort were willing —rather than unwilling — to accept Jews. This became common practice during the Nazi period, but it turns out that it became necessary even earlier.
For some owners the lists constituted a threat of a potential loss of customers and were thus a deterrent. But there were hotels and resorts that were not intimidated. In June 1926, the Kurverwaltung of Masserberg in the Thuringian Forest wrote a letter to the CV. It began with the following paragraph:
With deep resentment we have seen that in your black list no. 19 of May 7 our resort was not mentioned. Our resort is also one of those places, which prefer to see the Jews’ behinds rather than fronts [die von Juden lieber die Hacken als Spitzen sehen]. Also, our climate is not suited for tribes [Stämme] that come from southern areas.
This letter was sent by the local chaplain, mentioned above. In a separate note he added his wish, in the name of the guests, that the place would not be flooded by Jews.
The lists provide a useful tool for measuring the spread of antisemitism in the tourist industry and its development over the years. However, the application of those lists as a research tool requires some background information concerning the complexity involved in their compilation.
The preparation of the lists was not a simple process. The CV did not have the necessary resources for checking the thousands of advertisements, leaflets, and prospects issued by the various tourist resorts in order to identify all those that publicized themselves as off-limits to Jews. Therefore, it relied upon reports from individuals — mostly guests — regarding antisemitic tourist facilities. The CV archive contains dozens of files, arranged according to localities, with correspondence about antisemitism at tourist facilities in a particular locality. In the great majority of cases, the correspondence would be initiated by letters from Jews who complained about antisemitic incidents or expressions that had been directed toward them and suggesting that the particular hotel or pension involved should be included in the list.
However, such reports were not always reliable. Already in March 1922, the CV was aware that reports by Jewish guests about antisemitic hotels were not always trustworthy, and that this could cause it great embarrassment. Therefore, it treated these reports with caution. It favored reports (preferably by CV members) whose writer was identifiable and ready to stand behind his accusations, and it checked the reports by writing to the accused hotel. Indeed, the files contain many letters written by accused hotel owners emphatically denying any antisemitic tendency and listing satisfied Jewish clients who had enjoyed their hospitality. Sometimes letters from such clients, expressing their surprise upon hearing that the hotel was considered antisemitic, were also enclosed. At times, even when a hotel did not respond and was published in the list, Jews — including local leaders of the CV — would write to the CV claiming that they were familiar with the hotel and it was not antisemitic at all. This led to further embarrassment.
One example was in connection with a pension in the resort of Hahnenklee a. Harz. It was included on the list after its owner did not respond to a letter from the CV, which was sent due to a complaint by a Jewish guest that she and her son were given a private dining room and had not been allowed to eat with the other guests. Arthur Rosenberg, a board member of the CV group in Dortmund, wrote to the CV headquarters and declared “in the name of dozens of Jews from Dortmund” who knew and enjoyed that pension that the lady owner had absolutely no antisemitic tendencies. Following the complaint, he inquired personally into the case and explained the incident as a result of the outer appearance and behavior of the son. Additional cases will be described later in this article, indicating how difficult it was to draw a clear line between “antisemites” and “non-antisemites.”
All in all, assembling the lists was a never-ending task. In addition to incorporating new facilities, those whose inclusion was found to be mistaken, or at least uncertain, had to be deleted. The CV, with its limited staff, was not always able to handle the task in its entirety.
Sometimes the hotel owners fired in all directions. A hotel in Oberau (Bavaria) whose owner wrote to the CV and declared that he welcomed guests of all religions, was removed from the list only to find that it was listed in the Völkischer Beobachter as a recommended hotel for Nazis, with the Beobachter itself available in the reading room.
This example illustrates another challenge the CV faced: how, in fact, should it treat such places? In 1928, when a Jew wrote to the CV asking to include on the list a hotel in Müncheberg/Mark (Brandenburg), whose bar was a regular meeting place for Nazis, the CV answered: “An inclusion comes under consideration only when it can be proved that the owner of the hotel himself had acted in an anti-Jewish way, or when it can be ascertained that he did not allow any other political parties the use of his bar.” As long as this policy was taken, even Jews who were careful not to visit hotels included on the CV’s list could still find that their hotel had a strong antisemitic atmosphere.
This became the subject of an argument between the CV headquarters in Berlin and the Landesverband Baden of that organization in June 1928, as the CV refused to list a hotel whose owner was a member of the NSDAP. Finally, the CV changed its policy, and, from 1929 onward, it included on its lists the hotels and pubs named in the list of restaurants and public houses (Gaststättenverzeichnis) of the Nationalsozialistische Jahrbuch published in Munich each year.
Bearing this information in mind, we can now examine the numbers of hotels and pensions that were included in such lists.
Table 1: Tourist Facilities Listed as Antisemitic by Jewish Sources
| Year |
Source |
Antisemitic Resorts |
Resorts with Antisemitic Facilities |
Antisemitic Hotels and Guesthouses |
Antisemitic Restaurants Pubs&Cafes |
| 1920 |
IDR (a) |
16 |
24 |
73 |
Not listed |
| 1928 |
C.V. Zeitung (b) |
17 |
109 |
224 |
8 |
| 1930 |
Isr.
Familienblatt (c)
|
24 |
160 |
339 |
Not listed |
| 1931 |
C.V. Zeitung (d) |
14 |
165 |
287 |
40 |
a IDR 26, June 6, 1920, p.215
b C. V. Zeitung, June 25, 1928, pp 313-314
c Israelitisches Familienblatt, May 22, 1930, copy located in CAPHJP, CVA, File 2329, fr. 757-760
d C. V. Zeitung, May 8, 1931, Beilage
Table 1 shows a giant leap in the number of antisemitic tourist facilities between the beginning and the end of the Weimar period. There can be no doubt that, although the phenomenon began in the nineteenth century, it was during the Weimar years that it reached widespread proportions. However, the information regarding the last years of Weimar does not show a clear tendency. The number of resorts with antisemitic hotels and guest-houses had continually increased, but the numbers of the hotels themselves fluctuated. This could be explained to some extent by the fact that the CV was much more careful than the Israelitisches Familienblatt in the preparation of its lists, as we have seen above. However, this does not mean that the CV figures were any more realistic. A comparison of the CV lists with the information contained in some of the files in the CV archive reveals that there were facilities that were undoubtedly antisemitic yet were not included on the lists. The CV, apparently, did not have the necessary manpower for a continual and reliable updating of its lists, and some facilities were overlooked.
Table 2: Antisemitic Tourist Facilities by Region, 1928 and 1931
|
Geographic Area
|
Antisemitic Resorts
|
Resorts with Antisemitic Facilities
|
Hotels and Guesthouses
|
Restaurants Pubs & Cafes
|
|
|
1928 1931
|
1928 1931
|
1928 1931
|
1928 1931
|
|
I. Baltic Sea
|
4 4
|
20 27
|
57 78
|
2 3
|
|
II. Northern Sea
|
4 4
|
6 9
|
15 15
|
|
|
III. North Germany
|
1 1
|
11 15
|
12 14
|
1 2
|
|
IV. Thuringia
|
4 2
|
3 7
|
6 10
|
4
|
|
V. Silesia
|
|
11 28
|
35 57
|
1 17
|
|
VI. Harz
|
2
|
18 15
|
33 25
|
1 1
|
|
VII. Saxony
|
|
4 4
|
4 6
|
|
|
VIII. Baden and Wurtemburg
|
1
|
7 9
|
7 6
|
3
|
|
IX. Wesser mountains
|
|
6 4
|
23 22
|
|
|
X. Hesse
|
|
7 11
|
11 8
|
3 5
|
|
XI. Rhineland
|
|
4 3
|
6 3
|
1
|
|
XII.Bavaria
|
3 1
|
11 29
|
13 39
|
4
|
|
Other & Unidentified
|
|
1 4
|
2 4
|
|
|
Total
|
17 14
|
109 165
|
224 287
|
8 40
|
One interesting finding is the decrease in the number of antisemitic resorts in 1931, even when compared with 1928. This might be attributed to the economic crisis, which, as mentioned earlier in this article, led to a decline in mass-tourism. Perhaps some hotel owners were not willing, under the prevaling circumstances, to forego potential Jewish guests in advance and demanded that the antisemitic tag be removed from their establishment.
The picture becomes more complete when we examine the information on a regional basis, as provided by the CV lists.
Table 2 shows that the North Sea area holds the dubious title of the most antisemitic resort area in Weimar Germany, followed by Silesia and Bavaria. The Baltic Sea (Ostsee) also had a concentration of antisemitic facilities, thus making the seaside, which became a much desired tourist attraction during that period, an area where Jews were unwelcome. The Rhineland and Saxony, on the other hand, proved to be the least antisemitic areas.
An interesting bit of information that can be seen in that table is the reaction to the crisis of 1931 in different areas. In some, the numbers of antisemitic resorts and of antisemitic facilities declined — probably in the hope of attracting Jewish clients at a time of dwindling tourism. On the other hand, in the renowned antisemitic centers of the North Sea, Baltic Sea, north Germany, and Bavaria, the numbers actually increased. Those areas became drawing points for nationalist and antisemitic tourists, many of whom were members of the upper classes. The competition among the hotels was indeed over that sector — which was obviously growing, as confirmed by the election results.
Another trend indicated by the table is the rise in the number of restaurants, pubs, and coffee-houses that now described themselves as antisemitic. We should note that mainly coffee-houses were listed. However, especially with regard to that category, it is clear that the lists were far from complete, and the numbers should be used only to indicate a trend and not be considered as exhaustive.
In order to round out our information, let us examine the numbers of Nazi Gaststätte (public houses) as presented in Table 3. As we mentioned, the CV began listing the businesses that were publicized in the National-Socialist Yearbook. Those places did not always describe themselves as antisemitic, but certainly no Jewish guest could feel comfortable in such a place.
Table 3: Nazi Tourist Facilities by Region. 1931
|
State
|
Number of Places
|
Hotels and Pensions
|
Restaurants and cafes
|
Pubs
|
Other Businesses
|
Total
|
|
Anhallt
|
2
|
1
|
|
2
|
|
3
|
|
Baden
|
10
|
10
|
|
|
|
10
|
|
Bavaria
|
67
|
66
|
15
|
8
|
2
|
91
|
|
Braunschweig
|
2
|
1
|
1
|
|
|
2
|
|
Hesse
|
7
|
4
|
2
|
1
|
|
7
|
|
Mecklenburg
|
2
|
2
|
|
|
|
2
|
|
Prussia
|
75
|
63
|
18
|
11
|
3
|
95
|
|
Saxony
|
24
|
23
|
6
|
2
|
|
31
|
|
Thuringia
|
13
|
11
|
3
|
1
|
|
15
|
|
Wurtemburg
|
12
|
12
|
|
|
1
|
13
|
|
Other & Unidentified
|
2
|
2
|
|
|
|
2
|
|
Total
|
216
|
195
|
45
|
25
|
6
|
271
|
Unfortunately, the geographic regions in this table do not coincide with those of the antisemitic tourist facilities. In particulary the treatment of Prussia as one unit blurs the distinctions seen in the former table between the North Sea, Baltic Sea, Silesia, northern Germany, and the Rhineland. An examination of the localities listed indicates the importance of Silesia as a Nazi center. Bavaria seems to have been the major stronghold (ninety-one facilities as opposed to ninety-five in all of Prussia), but this could be attributed to the fact that the yearbook was published in Munich and its editors probably received better information from their own area.
A listing of 271 Nazi restaurants and public houses (Gaststätte) is certainly far less than the total number of such facilities. For our purposes, however, the importance of that list is the fact that the “officially” antisemitic facilities that it contains are only half — and probably even less — of the number of places in which Jews were not welcome.
Encounters with Antisemitic and Nazi Propaganda
Views of swastikas, anti-Jewish slogans, and other sorts of antisemitic and Nazi symbols were certainly a most unwelcome sight for Jewish vacationers, hoping for a quiet time to rest from their busy city life and hardships. Yet wherever there were antisemites and Nazi supporters, they took it upon themselves to make Jewish visitors feel unwanted — much to the chagrin of most hotel owners, who feared a threat to their business.
The great majority of such incidents took place in public places. Yet sometimes even non-antisemitic hotel owners could not prevent members of their staff from annoying Jewish guests. Some examples of this are the time a Jewish family found swastikas painted on their napkins when they sat down to dinner, or a Jew who found an antisemitic note inside his purse, after he had placed it in the wardrobe of his hotel. Moreover, in spite of the general desire of non-antisemitic tourist authorities to make Jews feel welcome, they could not control all their employees and activities. Some official booklets, published by tourist authorities in various resorts, contained antisemitic caricatures, jokes, or misinformation. A guide to Rothenburg a. Tauber, for example, claimed that the Jews had poisoned the town’s wells in the Middle Ages and contained other biased information. Apparently, stereotypes and superstitions superstitions about Jews were so widespread that they could not be completely avoided.
In public places, Nazi supporters made special efforts to display swastikas and Nazi slogans so that incoming visitors would see as many of them as possible. In Bad Nenndorf, for example, Nazis hung posters with “Juden haben keinen Zutritt” (“Jews not allowed”) on practically every tree. Tourist authorities in the different localities preferred that such symbols of Nazi support not be so visible, fearing that they might deter their anti-Nazi guests, but their options were limited. They could do nothing when shop owners displayed swastikas in their shop windows or hung Nazi flags on their roofs. They could remove Nazi slogans from public property, but the Nazis kept on and on.
One of the more efficient Nazi methods was carving swastikas on wooden public benches on the promenades and forest paths of the resorts. In Bad Harzburg, there was hardly a seat without a swastika or an antisemitic slogan in the local forest. In order to remove the graffiti, the benches had to be replaced — a costly practice. But even this drastic measure was to no avail, as the Nazis merely carved their symbol on the new benches. Swastikas were also displayed on roads running out of the resorts, such as the large swastika carved in 1931, on a rock on the road connecting two Rhineland resorts.
Apart from swastikas, Nazi posters and signs were another unwelcome sight for Jewish vacationers. A Jewish visitor to Wiesbaden, which was becoming a Nazi stronghold by the late 1920s, complained that, prior to a visit by Hitler in January 1929, the poster pillars (Anschlagssäüle) and shop windows were filled for five consecutive days with Nazi posters. Visits by Hitler or other Nazi leaders were always occasions for Nazi activists to swamp a site with Nazi posters and insignia. Other places, especially on the North Sea, were filled with Nazi and antisemitic insignia all year round. A Jew who traveled to the island of Wangerooge described it, as early as 1926, as a place filled with antisemitic posters and swastika flags, even though — or so he claimed — there was no support for antisemitism among the local population. He recommended that Jewish guests go to the nearby island of Norderney, although Wangerooge is much prettier. If this was the case in 1926, small wonder that a Jew who traveled to Wangerooge in 1932 found the place and the beach full of swastika flags.
One sort of Nazi activity that Jewish vacationers (unlike local residents) were less likely to encounter at resorts were Nazi demonstrations and marches. These were considered by most of those involved in the tourist industry as a direct threat to their business and their livelihood. Actually, any political activity during the “Saison” was contrary to the interests of the local tourist facilities. It was feared that potential guests, looking for the total restfulness required for a vacation, would be deterred by political meetings and demonstrations, especially those of the extremist parties, which were almost always noisy and violent. Even supporters of such parties preferred not to encounter tumultuous occasions during their vacations. Thus, the Allgemeine Deutsche Bädeverband had appealed to the Reich authorities for a change in article 123 of the constitution, which would enable tourist centers to forbid demonstrations and public activities of extremist political parties during the vacation season. But that effort failed.
In several places, communal or state (Land) authorities took local action. The spa board (Badeverwaltung) in Landeck in Silesia, an area where extremist activities had reached alarming proportions, published a public statement in June 1929 ordering (“richten”) all political associations to refrain from any public gatherings and marches during the tourist season and declaring that the constitutional right of political activity contradicted, in that case, higher public interests (höhere Öffentliche Interessen). In Wiesbaden, where Nazi activities greatly expanded in 1929-30, the tourist industry applied pressure on the local authorities to act. In June 1930, following a large Nazi demonstration on the main street of the town, the police forbade the Nazis to hold any public demonstrations. In Bad Nauheim, the local Verkehrsverein appealed to the Hessian Ministry of Interior to forbid Nazi public meetings during the season. The same Hessian ministry ordered, in 1931, the confiscation of Nazi postcards in Bad Nauheim.
There were places in eastern Germany that were less sensitive to the feelings of anti-Nazi guests. In Warnemünde (part of Rostock) a group of nationalists from Rostock marched through the place with a big swastika flag, and the police did not intervene.
The CV encouraged the members of the tourist industry to fight against Nazi public exhibitions. In Wiesbaden, the CV reacted to the ominous growth of Nazi propaganda by trying to influence Jews who spent their vacations in Wiesbaden hotels to write to the hotel owners, telling them that they were considering not coming to the town due to the strong Nazi propaganda. The CV tried to use the economic influence of Jewish guests on the town’s tourist industry in order to achieve its goal. Some of those efforts indeed helped, and the authorities did limit the possibilities for Nazi propaganda.
The efforts of the CV to apply pressure on various tourist facilities and institutions could be complemented on a smaller scale by some Jewish guests. Thus, a determined Jewish visitor in Bad Wiessee (on the Tegernsee) forced the local authorities to oust uniformed SA members from the public park on election day, July 31, 1932. Even though the SA members did nothing more than hand out flowers to passers-by, the Jewish visitor insisted that their mere presence was an infliction upon his right to peace and quiet as a local guest. Still, the demand for total peace and quiet for vacationers, although a useful weapon against Nazi activities, was double-edged. Antisemites could also use it to block Jewish entrance to certain hotels or entire resorts. In contrast to the large numbers of hotels and resorts where Jews were considered a disturbance, not too many German Jews had, as individuals, enough self-confidence to raise such a claim against Nazis — let alone insist upon it in light of the unwillingness of local authorities to handle such requests.
Antisemitic Businesses and Shops
Antisemitic businesses and shops that refused to admit Jews or sell them merchandise were not a common phenomenon in Germany, especially during the years of the economic crisis. Still, such places did exist. While this is not directly connected to the subject of antisemitism in tourist facilities — as such shops existed in many places and not only in resorts — for Jewish vacationers this presented a special problem. Unlike Jews in their hometowns, visitors could hardly know in advance in which shop they would not be welcome. When such shops displayed some Nazi or antisemitic sign outside, it could serve as a prior warning, but it was also a public offense to any Jew passing in the street. If there was no sign, a Jew might try to come in and encounter a business owner refusing to admit him or sell him anything. In the cigarette business of Anton Pulcher in Bad Münster a. Stein, for example, the owner inquired of clients with a Jewish appearance about their religion and refused to sell his goods to anyone who declared that he was a Jew. This was certainly a very unpleasant and disturbing experience for the peace-seeking vacationer.
The CV lists did not include such shops. The above-mentioned business of Anton Pulcher, for example, was not listed, even though the CV had received information about its antisemitic character. Such businesses were more numerous in larger places, where they had a non-Jewish clientele that enabled them to disregard the potential income of “Jewish money.” Most shop owners who were Nazis or antisemitic wanted to benefit from Nazi clients, so they advertised their orientation on the shop windows and doors, as described above. Most others — to quote a Jew who reported about a resort in the Harz mountains — were “very friendly to any paying customer.”
The number of Jews complaining to the CV about an owner refusing to sell to them were few indeed. Much more frequent were places that did not turn Jews and Jewish money away but functioned as meeting places for antisemites, especially Nazis. These were not shops, where one walks in, makes a purchase, and walks out, but places where people spend their free time; for example, coffee houses, restaurants, bars and pubs, Künstlerspiele (artistic performances) and cabarets, and the like. In such places the problem for the Jewish guest was not the owner, but the other guests. And the Jewish vacationer, rather than being insulted at the entrance, could be targeted and abused by the other clients.
As already noted, the question of dealing with such places was problematic for the CV. Until 1929, it included on its lists only places where the owner had declared that Jewish guests were unwanted, or had acted in a way indicative of antisemitic behavior. From that year, it began publishing places that were listed in the Gaststättenverzeichnis in the volumes of the Nationalsozialistische Jahrbuch, which were published in Munich each year. The numbers listed in Table 3, are clearly not representative of the phenomenon. In every town, even a small one, there was at least one pub that was known as the common meeting ground for Nazis. In the large towns, there were dozens and dozens of them. All these were not listed in the Nazi yearbook—probably because their owners never bothered to report to the yearbook, and were seemingly unaware of its existence.
On the other hand, the Nazi lists were no more reliable than that of the CV’s — and probably even less so. In Munich, for example, there was a whole group of such institutions that were listed by the CV as unfriendly to Jews, after they had been recommended in the Nazi yearbooks. However, many owners protested — and sometimes were even supported by Jewish clients and Jewish suppliers who testified that they knew and worked with the owner and that he was certainly not an antisemite. One cabaret owner even declared that he had employed a Jewish band for the last two years. All those businesses were then struck from the CV list.
Nevertheless, there can be no doubt that thousands of pubs, bars, and restaurants were considered by Nazis as legitimate meeting places. And in these establishments, any opponent — be he a communist, socialist, or a Jew — was at risk, sometimes physical risk. In fact, in certain pubs, after dark, not only Jews who entered the place were at risk, but also Jews who happened to pass in the nearby street. While the tourist authorities kept such places out of the resort areas, as they endangered their income, the Jews who traveled to larger towns did not keep to any limited area. As strangers who were not familiar with which places were Nazi meeting sites, they were in much more danger than the local Jews.
Encountering Antisemitic Officials
The antisemitism that was prevalent among official and semi-official officeholders in Germany, long before the Weimar period, was certainly not confined to resort areas. This was one of the major problems with which German Jews had to cope. Jewish vacationers could encounter it more than residents because they did not know in advance when and where they might face an antisemite. Such an encounter, when it occurred, was another sort of disturbance that would harm — and sometimes even ruin — a vacation.
As tourism and vacationing in Germany was so connected with health and bodily improvement, and most resorts were spas (Bad or Kurorte), tourists often met with local physicians. Guests with health problems might even have chosen to spend their vacations in a sanatorium. There were centers that employed their own doctors, that advised guests on the proper use of local health facilities, and prepared individual plans for them. In most places, however, there was no one official doctor, so the guests chose their adviser from among several local physicians. Meeting an antisemitic doctor was obviously an unpleasant experience. A doctor in a leading position, such as the antisemitic head physician in the Waldsanatorium of Obernigk (Lower Silesia), could have ruined the vacations of many Jews who came to his institute.
While there were not many complaints against doctors in the CV files, the problem was common enough to merit a special warning in the Führerbriefe put out by that organization. The warning, published in July 1930, concerned the possibility of encountering antisemitic doctors at spas. It was recommended that visitors should try to obtain information about doctors from a local Jewish doctor and not be satisfied only by inquiring at the local health authorities (Heilverwaltung) or with the Portiers at their hotel. This warning is a clear indication of the dangers that could be faced by vacationers who were unfamiliar with the local residents.
There were other officials that a tourist could meet. One Jew encountered an antisemitic attitude by a police official in August 1924, when he complained about a theft during his vacation at Bad Wildbad (near Tübingen). The policeman contended that many Jews were inventing such stories in order to claim insurance money. What annoyed the Jewish guest even more was the fact that attempts to lodge a complaint about the policeman with higher police authorities, and then with judicial authorities, were met with complete indifference and refusal to cooperate. This is proof that the attitude of the policeman toward Jews was not unique, but shared by other, higher echelons in the law-enforcement establishment.
Antisemitic Insults and Violence
The most direct forms of antisemitism were verbal insults and physical violence, and vacationers in resorts were subject to them just as were Jews in their home towns. Even children were not spared. The aggressors were mostly other hotel guests. When groups of Jewish and nationalist guests met in the same place, this could lead to friction, even to ongoing “incidents” (Zwischenfälle) — as was the case, in 1926, in a guest house in Bad Nenndorf (Hannover province). Jews, like other citizens, could sue those who had insulted them in court — but they did not. In fact, the CV files contain only one such case — by the legal consultant (Syndikus) of the CV branch in Königsberg.
Insults could lead to violence. In Wertheim (Baden), a group of Jews and Christians playing cards in a hotel was disturbed by a group of nationalist guests, who were singing nationalist songs and insulting the Jews. The insults led to an argument between the parties, during which one of the nationalists broke a glass and injured a Jew in the face. The aggressors, who were identified as merchants from Barmen, belonged to the nationalistic Brigade C.
It seems that concerts and musical events with a nationalist character were also sensitive occasions with a potential for violence. Two Jews were beaten by an angry crowd in Bad Reinerz (Silesia) for criticizing the loudness of a military orchestra during a concert. Another Jew was beaten in a Rhineland resort for not standing up when the “Deutschlandlied” was sung. Of course, there were more cases of violence without musical accompaniment.
Milder forms of violence were more widespread in certain places. In Bad Zinnowitz (Pommern), another antisemitic resort on the Baltic Sea, Jews on the beach constantly suffered from sand being thrown at them (along with insults).
Although these acts were performed by individuals, there is no sign that they aroused any indignation by others who were present — whether tourists or local inhabitants.
Antisemitic Attitude by Other Guests or Residents
This section deals with what was probably the most ominous sign of antisemitism in tourist facilities: not the actions of individuals or small groups of declared antisemites, but the attitudes displayed by the mass of non-Jewish vacationers or residents.
In September 1929, Arthur Rosenberg, a board member of the CV group in Dortmund, sent a report to the CV Berlin headquarters about his summer vacation at the Hahnenklee resort in the Harz mountains. Rosenberg wrote that the place had an antisemitic reputation — justified by the fact that with a population of only 550 people, no less than ten hotels and pensions were included in the list of antisemitic hotels published by the Israelitisches Familienblatt. Rosenberg himself did not notice any antisemitism by the hotel staff or local business owners, who were very pleasant toward buyers. But, he said, there was a very clear boycott by the Christian guests against Jews.
Such a report is an extremely important source concerning antisemitism in tourist facilities, because, unlike complaints about single antisemitic incidents, it gives a more complete and balanced picture. It refers not only to the antisemites, but also to those who were not. The CV did not solicit such reports. They were written as private initiatives by individuals, and there are only a few of them. All contain information revealing the spread of antisemitism among guests or among the local population. Sometimes it is clearly stated; sometimes it must be read between the lines. Reports about Rengsdorf (Rhine province), for example, tend to play down the antisemitism there, even though they admit that the population overwhelmingly supports nationalistic organizations. As for the Jews, well, the place needs Jewish tourist money. This can hardly be viewed as a sign of tolerance and acceptance.
The most telling remark in Rosenberg’s report concerns the attitude of the Christian guests toward the Jewish guests, which he described as a boycott. In most cases they did not even say hello. And, even in the cases that they did, “this is the most of what they believe should be done to us” (“dann ist dieses auch das Äusserste, was man uns gegenüber tun zu dürfen glaubt”). Another ominous sign was the mass spread of antisemitic literature among vacationers, as detected by watchful Jews. As we mentioned earlier, much reading was done during vacations (and during the travel to the vacation place); and this was done in public, not in the privacy of one’s home. Thus, it was on vacations that Jews could see what their fellow Germans were reading — and they did not always like what they saw. “People would not believe today,” wrote one Jew in his memoirs, “that there was hardly any train, and in summer hardly any bench at resorts, where someone was not reading Oswald Spengler’s Decline of the West.”
In summing up the evidence thus far, the many cases of antisemitic occurrences that show that Jews could not escape antisemitism even during their vacations. However, one might wonder how representative those occurrences were. Obviously, the majority of Jewish vacationers did have a good time, as they kept coming back to German tourist centers. The hundreds of antisemitic hotels and lodging houses were only a small part of the German tourist industry. Most Jews felt that they could go to any hotel, and Borkum was a marginal case.
However, the heavy concentration of antisemitism in the seaside area should be pointed out. This was just at the time when the seaside became a fashionable and coveted vacation destination (as noted in the beginning of this article). Those Jews who wanted to go to the sea had to be satisfied with the crowded “Jewish island” of Norderney, or risk encountering antisemites at the other resorts. Another option was not to go to the seaside. Thus, antisemitism in the tourist industry could have had a much wider effect than is indicated by the numbers: Jews who had to give up or alter their plans because of the fear of antisemitism can not be counted.
Reports concerning ill treatment of Jews by officials and the disregard or even boycott by other guests are signs of a very significant process that took place during the Weimar period: apart from the radical and violent antisemites, antisemitic opinions and behavior took hold among large segments of German society. Only a few Germans had physically attacked or insulted Jews, but many avoided their company and chose not to speak with them. Without much noise — just by being ignored quietly — Jews were being secluded from German society.
Who Was an Antisemite?
This article has dealt with various expressions of antisemitism — clear expressions, cases in which hate toward Jews was openly and clearly manifested. While there was certainly no shortage of such incidents, one cannot help but wonder how representative they were, since, as we have noted, most Jewish vacationers kept returning to German tourist centers.
The files of the CV archive contain several cases that were not clear-cut as regards to antisemitism. It is our contention that such cases, which might seem perplexing, and which are by and large ignored in studies about antisemitism, are those that might give us a better perspective about German antisemitism and the reasons for its success.
Take the case of M. Jürgens, owner of the Germania Hotel in Wangerooge on the North Sea. The CV file about that resort contains ample evidence about the antisemitic character of that hotel. Yet, a respected member of the CV itself wrote to deny that evidence. The chairman of the CV group in Oldenburg wrote that that the Germania Hotel in Wangerooge and its owner Jürgens — whom he knew personally — are not antisemitic. One of his relatives had stayed there several weeks and did not notice any antisemitism. The CV replied that they had in their possession a brochure of the hotel containing a warning “not pleasant for Israelites” and a postcard sent by the owner with a swastika on the reverse side. The CV also had a prospect from that hotel with two swastikas in its header and an even more convincing item: a letter from the Spa Commission (Badekomission) of Wangerooge to a Jew in Karlsruhe declaring that the Germania Hotel does not accept Jews. The Jew who made the inquiry was recommended to turn to the Monopol or Kaiserhof hotels. The letter was written less than two weeks before the CV leader in Oldenburg sent his letter defending the Germania Hotel.
But this did not settle the case. Several years later the CV in Berlin received a letter from no less an authority than its Landesverband of Hannover, claiming that Jürgens was a “registered Democrat” and should be removed from the list. The CV people, trying to clarify the matter, thought that perhaps they had confused the Germania Hotel of the democrat Jürgens with an institute with the same name owned by the Central Union of War Invalids. They wrote to that organization and received a reply that the Union did not differentiate between invalids according to their religion. This, wrote the Union, was not like the Germania Hotel, as it had come to their knowledge several times during the year that the management of that hotel was antisemitic.
So Jürgens was an avowed democrat who used swastikas on his letterhead. A Jewish local leader knew him and was convinced that he was not antisemitic, but, on the island itself, he was known as one. How are these contradictions to be explained? Apparently by the fact that Wangerooge was known, along with other North Sea resorts, as a favored location for nationalist guests. Jürgens perhaps wanted to get his share of the nationalist tourists and acted accordingly. He differentiated between his personal views and his business, and, as a businessman, acted in a way that would profit him by rejecting a certain kind of clientele in order to attract others. It seems that the others, the antisemites, were more numerous than were the potential Jewish guests.
On the other hand, there was also the Monopol Hotel on the same island of Wangerooge. This was not an antisemitic hotel; on the contrary, it was one of the two hotels in the resor — only two hotels — that the local Spa Commission recommended to the aforementioned Jew from Karlsruhe as places that were worth inquiring by Jews. A guest at that hotel reported that when five Jewish families were staying at the hotel, the owner, the widow Paul Wichmann, was very kind, but complained that it was unpleasant for her to have so many Jews. She kept speaking with the hotel personnel only about Juden and Judenweibern.
A very interesting case is that of Guido Neumerkel, owner of the Kaiserhof Hotel in Bad Neuenahr. Unlike the northern and Protestant Wangerooge, located in an area that had one of the greatest concentrations of Nazi support, Bad Neuenahr is located in the Catholic Rhineland, an area in which support for the Nazis was always well below the national average and which was favored by many Jewish vacationers. In November 1921, Neumerkel had an angry exchange of words with a group of Jews in a pub. He told them that in his hotel Jews were unwanted and asked them to see that its name be published in the CV’s list of antisemitic hotels. The CV representative in Bad Neuenahr was present and informed the CV headquarters accordingly.
The CV, according to its policy of checking and verifying such reports, contacted another CV member in Bad Neuenahr, Julius Dresel, who was a member of the Spa Board. Dresel answered that Neumerkel was no antisemite, but a “highly excitable man, whose words should not be precisely measured” (sehr aufgeregter Mentsch, dessen Worte nicht auf die Goldwage zu legen sind), and any antisemitic expression must have been a personal matter. Following this letter, the CV decided not to include Neumerkel’s hotel on the list. In a letter concerning the matter, the CV wrote:
During our rich experience we have repeatedly encountered cases in which some hotel owner, during a conflict, brought without much thought the term “the Jews” into the argument. In most cases it turned out that this had nothing to do with an anti-Jewish worldview, and was just a thoughtless expression, like people use in a mood of excitement many thoughtless expressions.
These sentences are highly instructive: hotel owners “repeatedly” used insulting remarks against Jews during arguments, and yet, the CV did not consider such remarks as expressions of anti-Jewish feelings.
In 1925, however, Julius Dresel himself, formerly a defender of hotel-owner Neumerkel, wrote to CV leader Holländer that Neumerkel, who has many Jewish guests, had abused the Jews in the most vulgar manner and must now be included on the list. The Rhineland Verband of the CV, which was asked to check the matter, answered that, although Neumerkel had indeed expressed antisemitic views, it was done in a beer cellar, while in the hotel itself no antisemitic incidents took place. In April 1926, it was finally decided, due to Dresel’s opinion, to include the hotel on the list. But this act was immediately followed by a protest letter from a Jew in nearby Andernach, the owner of a wine firm. He wrote that the hotel and Neumerkel himself had worked for many years with his Jewish firm. Besides, he had acquaintances who had visited the hotel many times and had found no trace of antisemitism. The CV turned again to the Rhineland Verband, which, after receiving no response from Dresel, asked another Jew in Bad Neuenahr, and received an answer that the owner was no antisemite. The Verband now recommended removing the name from the list. This was probably done.
So was Neumerkel an antisemite? It was possible for a hotel owner to have a large Jewish clientele and still be an antisemite, separating his business from his personal views. But would such a hotel owner also work with a Jewish wine firm for several years, without the firm owner tracing any hint of antisemitism? (This could be compared with a hotel owner in Wiesbaden who had a heavy Jewish clientele — ranging between 50 and 90 percent, according to CV sources — but refused to deal with a Jewish oils and fats company, claiming that “a German buys only from German firms.”) And could it be that none of his numerous Jewish guests had ever complained about his attitude toward Jews? (Compare that with widow Paul Wichmann of Wangerooge, mentioned earlier, who also accepted Jewish guests, but did not hide her feelings toward them.) This is still possible, but much less probable.
Was Neumerkel, then, an antisemite in his private life, who hid his views during business hours for economic reasons? In a small town like Bad Neuenahr, his private views would have been known to local people. But local Jews, when asked about him by the CV in Berlin and by the Rhineland Verband of that organization, constantly denied that Neumerkel was an antisemite. And yet one cannot ignore the fact that he had expressed sharp views against the Jews — so sharp, that Julius Dresel, a leading member of the Bad Neuenahr tourist establishment, who tended to defend local people from accusations of antisemitism, recommended that Neumerkel be included in the CV’s list of antisemitic tourist facilities.
Guido Neumerkel seems to be an excellent example of a latent antisemite. In his business, which brought him in touch with many Jews, he did not show any trace of antisemitism. Apparently, he did not express such views in his private life either. But he did hold these views, under the surface, and they came to light on several occasions during arguments, with the help of a glass of beer (or several glasses). An argument with a Jew would lead to rebuke and invectives against all Jews, expressed in some very rough language. This is a clear illustration of latent antisemitism, hidden all along, but unveiling itself (or erupting, as in our case) when some outer factor augments it, or, at least, creates the right conditions for its appearance.
We have no transcript of Neumerkel’s expressions. But, disregarding for the moment Neumerkel himself, we do have some evidence about the contents of such latent antisemitism that was common in Weimar Germany. In short, it was not the Nazi view of Jews as a separate and alien race. The völkisch thinking, even if it was accepted by large parts of the population, did not lead to a widespread adoption of a racist view concerning Jews. A racist vocabulary was not widely present in reports concerning antisemitism. Rather, it was a collection of old and new stereotypes and superstitions regarding Jews and their character — greedy, lazy, dirty, ruling the world to Germany’s detriment as rich capitalists or Red Bolsheviks (pick your choice), etc. etc. The wide distribution of these stereotypes in German society created the precondition for antisemitism: the willingness to see the faults of an individual Jew as traits representing all of Jewry.
A hotel owner might always encounter clients demanding a lower price, or complaining about the conditions. If the client was called Schulze, he would be aggravated by him. If the client was called Levy, he would be aggravated by what he believed was a greedy or spoiled typical Jew.
Even more so: the same hotel owner might have had loyal Jewish clients, who would come to his establishment year after year. He might have had Jewish business associates, supplying him with wine or other merchandise for better prices than Christian dealers. He might even have had personal acquaintances with Jews who belonged to his social circle. They could sit at the same table in the pub, drink beer, and play cards. But he would still believe that the “good Jews” he knew were unrepresentative. Apart from those few, almost all other Jews were like that greedy and repulsive Levy who so angered him. This, perhaps, was the line of thinking that explains the behavior of Guido Neumerkel and many others. We have ample evidence of such feelings in villages and small towns, but this is a discussion beyond the confines of this article. (Especially interesting are the small towns of northwest Germany, where Jews were socially acceptable, and sometimes even socially prominent, in places that voted heavily for the NSDAP.)
The many complex cases of hotel owners and other people involved in the tourist industry, recorded in the files of the CV archive, show that there was no clear demarcation line between antisemites and non-antisemites. There were many, many people who were clear and self-pronounced antisemites — in an economic branch where the weight of Jewish clientele was much heavier than their overall share in the population. But there were hordes of others who could not be included in that category; others who could produce evidence of satisfied Jewish guests or business associates to deny accusations of antisemitism leveled against them, but still behaved in a clearly antisemitic manner under some circumstances.
My contention is that this nebulous set of opinions was detrimental for the Jews of Germany. The active antisemites were a minority, and there was no majority in their favor. But even in the tourist industry, there was no majority against them. Even people who benefited personally from a heavy Jewish clientele held latent anti-Jewish views, which were just waiting for the right moment to spring out.
This is consonant with Anthony Kauders’ findings concerning Nürnberg and Düsseldorf. Kauders reached the conclusion that, whereas antisemitism was not part of mainstream political life in the Second Reich, in the Weimar period there was a “quantitative and qualitative shift in the perception of the Jewish question.” Large segments of the population came to accept the antisemitic worldview, rejecting only the more radical and violent forms that it assumed. This was a rejection of “the style and tactics,” but not of the contents of antisemitism.
Supporters of radical and violent antisemitism remained a minority, but antisemitism in itself became an accepted opinion, part of the mainstream social and political life. This was an ominous sign for the future. It was not the view of Judaism as an alien race, but the strong hold of stereotypes — old and new — regarding the Jews, which ensured that antisemitic actions initiated or supported by an antisemitic government would not encounter wide disagreement (let alone opposition).
This is the point that Ulrich Herbert has recently brought up concerning the Holocaust itself. The German people, he claimed, did not fanatically support it. Rather, they displayed an attitude of disinterest and indifference toward the Jews and whatever was happening to them. Therefore, there was no opposition to the radicalizing treatment of the Jews, which grew more and more cruel, up to the utmost limit.
In the tourist industry, the victims of the unclear views about Jews and antisemitism were, in the short term, some insulted Jewish guests and a few perplexed CV officials. In the long run, all of German Jewry fell victim to these views.
Source: Yad Vashem Studies Vol. XXVIII, Jerusalem 2000, pp. 7-50.
