Mila 18 - Leon Uris [58]
“Bronski, I summoned you here because we are in the process of forming a new Jewish Civil Authority. We are disbanding the old Jewish Council as of this afternoon. I am appointing you as deputy in charge of Jewish professionals.”
“But ... Franz ... my position at the university ...”
“As of tomorrow, there will be no more Jews at the university.”
“I have no choice?”
“That is correct. If you carry out our directives and cooperate, you will be much better off than the other Jews in Warsaw, I can assure you.”
“I ... don’t know what to say. It would certainly do no good to plead that ... I have been divorced from all things Jewish for many years.”
“The directives from Berlin clearly state that all new laws regarding Jews refer also to converts to Catholicism and people having one Jewish parent, grandparent, or great-grandparent. Active or inactive practice of Judaism is not a matter of consideration.”
“Franz ... I ... it is hard to believe what I hear.”
“Times have changed, Dr. Bronski. Get used to it quickly.”
“We have been friends a long, long time. ...”
“Never friends.”
“Professional colleagues, then. You have always been a compassionate man. You were here this last month. You saw what happened. You are an intelligent human being. I cannot believe that you have completely lost feeling for us.”
Koenig set his pipe down. “Yes, Bronski, I have made peace with myself, if that is what you mean. You see, I have been lied to by all those philosophers of righteousness who speak of truth and beauty and the triumph of the lambs. This is real, here and now. It is a victory of lions. Germany has given me in one instant more than a thousand years of piddling through mediocrity and finding comfort in the quotations of false wisdoms.”
“Franz ...”
“Just a minute, Bronski. Your way puts me below your cunning. This way makes me your master. I take it you will serve on the Jewish Civil Authority.”
Paul laughed ironically. “Yes, I’ll be happy to.”
“Very well, then. Tomorrow at ten you will report here to receive your first instructions from the Kommissar, Rudolph Schreiker.”
Paul stood up slowly and extended his hand.
Koenig refused it. “It would be wise if you got into the habit of dispensing with amenities which heretofore made us appear as equals. You will address me as Dr. Koenig at all times and otherwise show the respect due a superior.”
“Times have changed,” Paul said. He started from the room.
“Bronski. One more thing. The Zoliborz suburb is being commandeered for the exclusive use of German officials and officers. Jews are no longer permitted. I shall be moving into your house in about ten days, so you have that length of time to resituate yourself. Before you start crying, I might say that out of deference to past relationships I will make a reasonable settlement on your property, a courtesy that most of the other Jews in Zoliborz will be denied.”
Bronski felt weak. He leaned against the door to support himself, then opened it quickly.
“Tomorrow, here at ten to meet Rudolph Schreiker.”
Chapter Two
Journal Entry
WARSAW HAS BLOSSOMED WITH German uniforms of all colors. One must have a program to tell who is über who. The biggest uniform apparently belongs to the new Kommissar, Rudolph Schreiker. We don’t know too much about him, but obviously he is not going to try to win a popularity contest here. The old Jewish Council, a quasi-religious government, has been disbanded. A new instrument called the Jewish Civil Authority has been formed. Emanuel Goldman, the musician and a good Zionist, asked me to serve on the executive board. I ducked him because this so-called Civil Authority doesn’t seem quite kosher to me.
ALEXANDER BRANDEL
Rudolph Schreiker, the new Kommissar of Warsaw, had come from a small town in Bavaria. He did not wish to spend his life at a cobbler’s bench as had his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. It was doubtful that Rudolph would have made a good cobbler, anyhow, for he wasn’t very good at very much.
He