Wednesday, December 3, 2008










































It was a chilly January night in Berlin and a group of soldiers and officers were milling around the back entrance to the Eden Hotel when the first prisoner, Karl Liebknecht, was led out.
He was a small moustached man, in his 40s with receding hair that was black, curly and matted with blood. One of the soldiers, Otto Runge, lunged forward swinging his rifle as a club. The butt crashed across the prisoner's head sending him sprawling.
Semi-conscious he was dragged into a car, which then sped off towards Tiergarten Park. Once there, the vehicle came to a halt and the battered man was ordered out. Staggering forward he was oblivious to the pistols raised behind his back. The assassination was over in a matter of seconds.
Twenty minutes after the first prisoner's departure, a second 'criminal', Rosa Luxemburg, stumbled out of the hotel. This diminutive woman was also in her 40s. Again Runge rushed forward using his weapon as a club. This time the victim collapsed – either dead or dying. She was thrown into the back of another waiting car, which drove around 100 yards when
The New Republic
In September 1918 Germany's Supreme Command realised that their country was on it last legs and decided to sue for peace and, in order to gain more favourable terms, set up a constitutional monarchy.
General Ludendorff was replaced by General Wilhelm Groener and Prince Max von Baden became Imperial Chancellor. But while the Supreme Command worried itself over the armistice terms, the German people seethed with indignation – millions had been sent to the grave for nothing. The hostility was further heightened by stringent rationing that was now leading to starvation.
With the war lost, the socialists in German society saw a chance to manoeuvre into power. The SPD (the majority socialists), were the largest party with the greatest support in Germany – their socialism was calm and methodical.
They were fronted by Fredrich Ebert, a podgy man with a gruff expression. He was an excellent organiser and was capable of taking decisive actions. Gustav Noske was to become his right-hand man. Tall and thickly built, Noske was a good speaker, with the ability of getting his enemies to bend to his will through words alone. But Noske was also ruthless enough to use violence to obtain his goals.



As the days wore on, the situation in Berlin and the country worsened. In early November, the sailors of the High Seas fleet at Kiel had revolted, although they were calmed by the brilliant realpolitik of Noske who had been especially sent to tame the mutiny.
Many of the sailors, however, upped sticks and headed either to other major ports or to the capital. Of the latter, a large group numbering around 3,000 took over the Imperial Palace – the Schloss – and the imposing Imperial stables – the Marstall. They named themselves the People's Naval Division. Other destabilising elements were in Berlin and other cities: army deserters roamed the streets alongside communists, anarchists and criminal gangs.
Despite the growing chaos, the SPD had initially attempted to work with Prince Max von Baden's government. Unfortunately, Max von Baden's attempts to secure the Kaiser's abdication were painstakingly slow and when he did finally receive confirmation that the Emperor was stepping down, it was too late.
Massed protests and strikes against the government and the monarchy were sweeping the nation, particularly in Berlin. The SPD, now fearful of losing popular support, withdrew from von Baden's government, leaving him no choice but to hand over power and the Chancellorship to them on 9 November.
Danger From The Left
The Independent Socialists, the USPD, had spilt from the SPD when the former refused to continue supporting total war. The right of their party, however, still felt able to work with Ebert. On the other hand, the far left of the USPD opposed the SPD's stance and wanted to sweep away the old order entirely.
In Berlin the USPD had taken over the city police when Emil Eichhorn, an extreme leftist of the party, had walked to the police headquarters on the Alexanderplatz, shoved his way through a large demonstration, entered the building and then brazenly announced: "I am the new police president."
With a crowd baying for their blood, the policemen were keen to get out the building alive and the new 'police president' offered them a chance to leave unharmed. Eichhorn was duly appointed.
The Spartacists were further to the left of the USPD; their core support was small and based in the working class slums. Their unusual name was an invention of their leader, the fiery Karl Liebknecht.
During the war he had issued flyers deriding the Kaiser, but to avoid arrest he signed them 'Spartacus'. Liebknecht was a brilliant orator, but he was also impulsive and disorganised.
Supporting him was Rosa Luxemburg, a polish born Jew who was also a good speaker, as well as an excellent theologian. She frowned upon Liebknecht's calls for direct action as too pre-emptive and dangerous, especially when their militant supporters, the Spartacists, were still disorganised.
Winter Temperature RisingWith the armistice signed, Germany prepared to welcome home the millions of men that had served in the Imperial Armies. But in Berlin, as in most parts of the country, many had already walked away from the army to return home. Others went over to the far left. Some stayed in their barracks, half heartily carrying on with their duties.
Even then, a right-wing putsch was attempted by using the units still available in and around Berlin. The aim of the putsch was to rid the government of Independents and was probably organised in connivance with the SPD
Winter Temperature Rising
With the armistice signed, Germany prepared to welcome home the millions of men that had served in the Imperial Armies. But in Berlin, as in most parts of the country, many had already walked away from the army to return home. Others went over to the far left. Some stayed in their barracks, half heartily carrying on with their duties.
Even then, a right-wing putsch was attempted by using the units still available in and around Berlin. The aim of the putsch was to rid the government of Independents and was probably organised in connivance with the SPD


Several hundred troops surrounded the Chancellery, while others had rounded up prominent USPD men.
They proclaimed Ebert 'President', although the Chancellor displayed a distinct lack of enthusiasm and refused to support them outright.
Having failed to secure Ebert's support, the revolutionaries hastily retreated. However, on central Chauseestrasse tragedy struck. An army machine gun opened fire on a Spartacist demonstration, killing 16 and injuring 12.
The Spartacists claimed Ebert had organised the putsch and then, having seen the lack of troops, backed off disclaiming all knowledge of events – that the investigation into the massacre was suspiciously halted points towards SPD foul-play somewhere along the line.
Ebert now waited for nine first-rate Imperial Army divisions to return to Berlin. With them on side he could begin to decisively manoeuvre against his enemies and keep the peace. The divisions arrived in the capital on 11 December. But again, most of the soldiers simply walked away, with only a fraction of those available returning to their barracks and reporting for duty.

The Battle Begins
The People's Naval Division, having seen how quickly these army units dissolved, began to flex its muscles – they began to demand money and supplies.
Exasperated by the threats, the Chancellor decided to starve the sailors out by withholding their pay – starting with their Christmas 'bonus' of 80,000 marks, a sizable sum at that time.
They would only receive their money once they had evacuated the Schloss, handed its keys to Otto Wels (military governor of Berlin) and made arrangements to leave the Marstall. After this, Ebert hoped they could be pressured into disbanding for good.
Wishing to maintain their life of comparative luxury, the sailors decided to try and negotiate with the USPD, their natural allies. On 23 December, a delegation arrived at the Chancellery with the palace keys wanting to talk with USPD representatives.
Each Independent suggested they visit another member of the party higher up the 'food chain'. Eventually, the sailors were told to find Ebert. They were forced to wait, however, because the Chancellor was out to lunch at that time.
Meanwhile, other sailors had arrived at Wels' office demanding their pay. Wels made some phone calls but could receive no precise information as to the whereabouts of the keys. He put the phone down and effectively told the sailors that there was 'nothing doing'. Enraged, they tore up Wels' office, beat its occupant for good measure, and then took him and two of his subordinates hostage.
The men would be released once the sailors received the 80,000 marks. To speed the government's decision, a large contingent left the Marstall, marched to the Chancellery and refused to let anyone either enter or leave the building.
Ebert rushed to the scene and told the angry sailors to remain calm, declaring that his government would be willing to negotiate. He then went to his office and contacted Supreme Command via his secret telephone. The army told Ebert that their soldiers would march into the centre of Berlin and 'set you free'.

A New Force

The Freikorps appeared, even to those in power, to have come out of nowhere. In fact, their seeds were sown as the Imperial Army was collapsing when the Supreme Command decided to allow the formation of elite volunteer units.
The men were hand picked for their reliability – a good number had been Stormtroopers on the Western Front. Arms and equipment were readily available, for Germany at that stage was awash with unused weaponry.
The first Freikorps was created by General Ludwig von Maercker. His men were well paid, well motivated and they loathed, above all others, the far-left. Maercker had also chosen some excellent staff to help develop new urban warfare tactics.
Other Freikorps were being formed too. In rebellious Kiel, for example, several brigades had been created, including the 1,600-men 'Iron Brigade', set up under Noske's auspices after he had quashed the mutiny. In January 1919, however, there were still not that many units – they numbered no more than a dozen – although more were being founded, seemingly with each passing day.

On 4 January, as the Spartacists plotted, Noske invited Ebert to a military camp 35 miles south-west of the capital to inspect the results of Maercker's work. Standing in the grim cold, they were presented with the somewhat surreal sight of 4,000 men marching across the parade ground in perfectly ordered ranks.
Noske and Ebert could hardly contain their glee as the soldiers stamped past. The defence minister gave the Chancellor a slap on the back, saying: 'Now you can rest easy; everything is going to be all right from now on.'
Sunday January 5 saw a gigantic protest march in favour of Eichhorn. As the crowds gathered, revolutionary groups seized the major railway stations and communications centres. That evening leaflets were printed calling for more massed demonstrations for the next day.
The Marstall sailors were invited to join the rising, but they remained non-committal, unwilling to risk the position they had only just managed to hold. The following day, the crowds gathered again – all expecting that a full-scale revolution was about to be declared – but nothing happened. The 'Revolutionary Committee', a 53-man group headed by Liebknecht debated, hummed, hawed and came up with no decisive measures. It was this dallying that gave the SPD their lifeline.
No Quarter
By 7 January the lead elements of the Freikorps had gathered in leafy West Berlin under the guidance of Noske. About 900 other men were stationed at the north Berlin barracks of Moabit under the command of Colonel Wilhelm Reinhard.
Another Freikorps, the 'Potsdam Regiment', had also mobilised and numbered around 1,200 men. They were under the immediate command of Major von Stephani and on the night of January 9-10 were ordered into Berlin to prepare for operations.
Once the order had come through, Stephani decided to head out in advance and make his own reconnaissance. He raced over to the offices of the SPD newspaper Vorwärts that had been taken over by the Spartacists and, disguised as a revolutionary, made a detailed investigation of the building.
Stephani was confident of success and upon returning to his forces, issued a demand for the Spartacists to surrender. Predictably, they refused and at 8.15am on 11 January, Freikorps machine guns, howitzers and trench mortars blasted the Vorwärts building. The Spartacists tried to reply with their own machine guns, but once registered, were promptly obliterated by the Freikorps' overwhelming firepower.
Having faced several minutes of ferocious assault, seven Spartacists left the building waving white handkerchiefs and offered to discuss details of a possible truce – the Freikorps demanded unconditional surrender instead.
One of the Spartacists was sent back to tell his comrades, while the other six were taken away and executed. Then, not bothering to wait for a reply (there was to be no repeat of the Marstall fiasco), Stephani's shock-troops ran forward and stormed the building, capturing around 300 prisoners - many were beaten senseless and again, some were shot out of hand.
On January 11, Gustav Noske and of his forces in West Berlin moved out, with the defence minister walking at the head of a large column made up of men predominately from the bulk of Maercker's Volunteer Rifles and his Iron Brigade (who had rushed to Berlin to join in with operations). After arriving in central Berlin they proceeded to Moabit barracks, where they joined Reinhard's forces