The source: “Latrinenparolen,” Der Angriff. Aufsätze aus der Kampfzeit (Munich: Zentralverlag der NSDAP., 1935), pp. 38-41. The illustration is the book’s dust jacket.
Is it true that while working in the Ruhr you had the closest relations with Freemasons and that you were paid by them? If so, how does that square with your current attitudes?
Is it true that your sister in Berlin is married to a Jew and that you frequently visit them for lunch?
Were you educated by the Jesuits and are you still in touch with and supported by ultramontane circles, getting guidance and advice from them for your political activity? If so, what should we think about that?
Is it true that a few weeks ago you were thrown out of a Berlin bar because you did not pay your bill? If so, how does that square with your hypocritical claims of decency and honor?
Are you a morphine addict?
Is it true that you have a group of party bigwigs who pay you a large salary (the funds coming from French or Italian sources)?
Is it true that you tolerate party comrades in high positions who are morally questionable and whose lifestyles hardly agree with general standards of morality and decency?
Answer, answer! Say something!
Are those jokes? Oh, no, the questions are in bitter earnest. That is only a small sampling of the pile of questions and inquiries that have been asked of me in written or spoken form as long as I have been in Berlin. I am supposed to answer them? Should I always be ready to refute and render powerless each new lie and slander? Does not one see how absolutely embarrassing it must be to pass on such nonsense? And is there no answer to the scandalmonger or scoundrel who spreads such wild stories other than to ask me about them? Does every tramp have the right to insult me and then hide in cowardly anonymity without anyone from the Party responding to these obvious slanders? The Party, after all, is the target they hope to injure by attacks on my insignificant person. How often does one have to say the enemy uses mimicry, putting on a new mask every day, with the eternal Jew always behind it? Are you a morphine addict? Do I look like one? Do you visit a Jew? Is your sister (who is 16 and still in school) married to our deadly enemy? Are we crazy? Have I given reason to think that I am a stupid animal, a hypocrite and crook that any idiot can spit on to the applause of a crowd? If there was even a sliver of truth, one asks, would the Berlin newspapers that are always willing to attack us display such discreet reserve?
The CV [a Jewish organization] claims to operate systematically and quietly. The creature than has shamed and misused our people does not cross swords with us in public debate. First they tried to kill us with silence, then they attacked us with Red terror, then they banned our organizations and press, and when all that failed, what did the Jew have left besides the art of lie and slander, of which he is master? He realizes that something always sticks. He paws through a thick stack of vulgarity with his dirty fingers and the fine citizen thinks: “Maybe it is not all true, but some of it must be. No one can tell such outrageous lies.” Well, the Jew does lie in such an outrageous way. It ranges from Hitler’s supposed Jewish bride to a small slander against the least party official. Should we defend ourselves against it, trying each week to set right the latest absurdities?The Hebrew would love that! He would put us on the defensive and we could change the name of our battling newspaper Der Angriff to The Defender. Do they think we are that stupid?
We decide how we will fight, not some anonymous Hebrew. We are not yet so sick and opium-addicted to lack the strength to provide the proper answer in this new year.
A Jew cannot insult us. We respond only by frustrating his plans. He will not succeed in getting us to change our style. I, the hiring of Freemasons, the Jesuit and bill skipper, the morphine addict and candidate for death, the chief courtier and defender of immorality and vice, will have an answer for Jewry. But it will not be the answer that the Hebrew expects.
Shall I give your our plans for action up to Easter, you innocent passerby of Jewish appearance?
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