I heard a lot about Armin Wegner years ago in Armenia, in the Northern Republic of Armenia. A name well present on the Hill of Swallows, near the capital Yerevan, where the Genocide Memorial and Museum are located which, over the years, I have visited several times. I was able to see the Garden of the Righteous, where trees have been planted that commemorate the people who have worked for the Armenians in various ways. Who have publicly taken a stand in favor of the Armenian cause. It doesn't matter that they did it unsuccessfully. I have seen the Wall of Remembrance, which encloses the ashes or grave earth of the righteous. The ashes of Armin Wegner are also kept there. With those of the US ambassador Henry Morghentau, author of a significant autobiography, with those of the writer Franz Werfel, author of the famous novel The Forty Days of the Mussa Dagh, with the ashes of many others.
I then met and met several times, during 2015, on the various occasions in which the Armenian genocide was remembered in Rome, Michele or Mischa Wegner, Armin's son. A second child, as she was born before him, by his father's first wife, Lola Landau, Sibylle. A sister, he explained, Mischa, with whom he has always gotten along well, even though he has perhaps heard more than she has and still feels the moral obligation to take care of her father figure. I have long been interested in Armenia, in his tormented history. I wrote about it in scientific journals. I have published books about it. The latest, entitled Armenia, the Armenians, released with the Guida publishing house of Naples, in 2015, was presented in Rome during a week of activities aimed at commemorating the centenary of the genocide, days desired by the Embassy of Armenia , by the Central Institute for Sound and Audiovisual Heritage (ICBSA) of the Ministry of Cultural Heritage, by the sociologists of religion of AIS, the Italian Association of Sociology.
When Fiorella Leone calls me to ask if I would like to moderate the presentation, at the Casa della Memoria e della Storia, of Gabriele Nissim's book, The Letter to Hitler. Story of Armin T. Wegner, solitary fighter against the genocides of the twentieth century (Mondadori 2015), I accept with pleasure. I know the book well. I had read it with great attention, I had mentioned it during the XXII Summer School organized by the International Center for Studies on Contemporary Religion with AIS, the Italian Association of Sociology-Section of Sociology of Religion, held in S. Gimignano and Tavarnelle at the end of August 2015. An initiative curated by Arnaldo Nesti who had organized the usual annual appointment on the theme The meaning of living beyond the new solitudes, with the decisive help of Giuseppe Picone. On that occasion we had also organized a photographic exhibition with 19 impressive photos by Armin Wegner, kindly granted by the German publishing house Wallstein Verlag-Germany, obtained thanks to the son of A. Wegner who had supported the loan. Alongside these historic photos by Wegner, another 40 shots of today's Armenia, mine and some friends. Not only. Maestro Maurizio Redegoso Kharitian, virtuoso of violin and viola, had played for us music by Bach, Komitas Vartabed, the famous Gurdjieff, Chachaturjan, in the church of S. Bartolo, on the evening of 26 August. The afternoon dedicated to Armenia was attended by Ambassador Sarkis Ghazaryan, as well as the historian Gabriella Uluhogian, the painter and writer Sonya Orfalian. And other.
I had opened the exhibition a few hours before the concert, talking about Armin Wegner and his photos. Taken in years when digital didn't exist yet; made known, shown in public and also largely published in unsuspected years. A historical document, then. A real source for scholars. Even if they had immediately been the subject of insinuations and denials by the Turkish side. But it wasn't so much this that was worrying, in my eyes, as some facts that emerged from reading Nissim's book. A Nissim known not only as a journalist and essayist, for having thought about the opening of Gariwo, the forest of the righteous, in which, as I mentioned, people who have expressed themselves and taken a stand against genocide and totalitarianism are remembered. Nissim himself was the promoter of the European Day of the Righteous, established on 10 May 2012 by the European Parliament, as reported on the back cover. Wegner emerges from reading this book as an idealist, certainly. But perhaps also, simultaneously and in a contradictory way, as a man who had taken into account the political climate, at least as far as the Armenian question was concerned. In fact, Nissim clarifies and documents the fact that the young Wegner had returned from the period spent in Turkey as a medical officer with the VI Army, under the orders of Field Marshal von der Golz, in a Turkey therefore where he had seen up close the terrible situation in which the Armenians, deported to nowhere. And yet, he had kept silent, for three long years. To nowhere, because as it is known there was no will, no resettlement plan, nor would there have been any reason for this move, other than a will for persecution and annihilation. Indeed there is a film by Carlo Massa, which has the title: Destination nothing. The witness, whose title makes this reality explicit. A video that I recently presented here. In the film, Pietro Kuciukian, who has written a lot about what happened to the Armenians, about the life of the survivors, looks for traces of Wegner father. Mischa (Michele), Wegner's son, also very present in the film by C. Massa, takes part of his father's ashes with him to Armenia, to be buried with those of the other righteous. Another part was dispersed in Stromboli, as per Armin's will. Who, as I said, is initially silent on these atrocious facts which he too undoubtedly saw with his own eyes and which he documented. He will make three years go by without talking about it, without making the images taken publicly known. Images of Armenians who died of hunger and hardship, killed by petechial typhus. Corpses piled up on top of each other, abandoned on the side of a road. Bone.
Meanwhile a. Wegner had written, if anything, praising the Young Turk revolution. He had written highly laudatory about von der Golz, his commander, who also died of typhus. Who, like the Germans present in Turkey in general, had seen what was happening but had done nothing to prevent it. Wegner, once back in Germany, will speak of him publicly in a laudatory tone. We know from Nissim that Armin Wegner, in 1917 shows various interests. For example, he dedicates himself to a collection of poems, he is interested in the landscape, as an ecologist sui generis. He is interested, with conviction, in sexual freedom: and will in fact always be ready to put his theoretical assumptions into practice in this regard, since he definitely appreciates women. He understands them, he is successful. When he meets Lola Landau, he is having an affair with a student. Lola is married to another. She will divorce, marry Armin. That he won't give up on other adventures for this. Having entered the German Oriental Institute and the editorial staff of the bimonthly «Der Neue Orient», of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Armin is entrusted with the task of defending the country's foreign policy. A task he does not mind: he definitely loves Germany. In the future, he will always refuse to write about certain subjects, such as the Holocaust for example, precisely so as not to have to take a stand against Germany. Not only. Also in 1917, we learn, he will collaborate with the Deutschtürkische Vereinigung, an association with offices in Berlin and Istanbul, dedicated to the Turkish-German alliance. In whose committee of honor we find the names of Prime Minister Talaat Pascià, Minister of War Enver Pascià and Minister of the Navy, Djemal Pascià: the three main perpetrators of the Armenian genocide. Then the following year, in 1918, he began to write under the pseudonym Tarik for «Der Neue Orient», a collaboration that would continue until 1920. He - notes Nissim - writes about the places of the genocide: but as if he had never been there. As if he hadn't seen what had happened. Indeed, it celebrates some leaders of the Young Turks. He also exalts Jambolat Bey, Taalat Pascià's trusted friend, who will then be arrested in 1930 and transferred to England to be tried. At the same time, he participates in pacifist movements. Not only that: on February 9, 1918 Armin Wegner will give an articulated and complex report of about fifty pages in Breslau. Accompanied by about a hundred slides. In essence – writes Nissim – it is the exaltation of the Turkish-German alliance. Wegner points out the common cause against the English enemy. There is no mention, on this occasion, of Armenians. We are talking about refugees. And of the betrayal by the population on the border with Russia, near Van and Erserum, hence the need for deportation: as if the Armenian victims were at least partially responsible for what happened. Not only that: Armin Wegner praises the mercy of the Turkish government, which seeks to alleviate the suffering of refugees, to distribute bread and other food to them. A conference that will then be repeated in honor of Field Marshal von der Goltz, in a long propaganda journey. Then, at the end of the year, on October 30, the Armistice of Mudros is signed. The escape of those responsible for the extermination of the Armenians will follow. Wegner had recently written an exaltation of Taalat Pasha, portrayed as a sort of new Bismark who was leading seventy million Muslims to emancipation. Only on November 25 will he write a piece for Der Neue Orient, in which he admits that the Germans were, indeed, aware of what had happened. Nissim comments that it took Armin Wegner time to process what he saw. However, the removal, at least as regards Wegner (not Turkey), will now end. And indeed in January 1919 Wegner published a collection of reflections on the front, with the significant title: The road without return. A martyrdom in letters. And it is the first time that the 'fault of a nation' is mentioned. Then, on 19 March 19 he held a conference on the deportation of Armenians to the desert. Speak in the conference room of the Urania Science Dissemination Society. He presents himself as a witness. He has many slides with him. The audience hears, sees. The impact is huge. However, there are also, immediately, criticisms and doubts. Angry controversy. Why, three years later? And the photos? All yours, all about the Armenians? Maybe not. Certainly, if they were his, if they were true, they would be a very harsh indictment, as will be those providentially executed by Dwight Eisenhower at the opening of the extermination camps, at the end of the Second World War – Nissim rightly notes. Important questions emerge in this conference: that of the so-called internal border; that of the impotence of evil, given that even in the worst of circumstances the yearning for freedom still remains. Today Armenian historian Tigran Sarukhanyan calls into question the decision to house Armin Wegner's ashes in the Armenian Memorial near Yerevan. She accuses him of having delayed speaking for fear of exposing himself. He would have waited, says the historian, for the advent of the Weimar Republic to avoid the consequences of his denunciation. I just mention these problems, inaugurating the photographic exhibition in S. Gimignano, at the end of August 2015. Where my file on Armin Wegner is distributed. I dwell on the photos, on their terrible impact. On their historical value and on the attempts of denial by the Turkish side. In Rome, a few months later, at the Casa della Memoria e della Storia, on the occasion of the presentation of Nissim's book, The Letter to Hitler, held on 21 January 2016, I give the floor first to the historian Anna Foa, who is Like me, she was a professor at Sapienza University. A scholar of the Shoah, Anna has recently published a beautiful book with the Laterza publishing house, Portico d'Ottavia 13.
La Foa speaks of Armin Wegner as a somewhat contradictory figure. He mentions his long silence with regard to the tragic events of the Armenians. Already in this way his speech attracts the attention of bystanders, opens up possibilities for comparison and discussion. But she doesn't stop there. He also speaks of another uncomfortable theme, that is, that of the importance, of the need for comparisons and juxtapositions between the various genocides that have marred and characterized the XNUMXth century. More comparative studies are needed, he says. I don't know if the bystanders realize Anna Foa's position of rupture with regard to the Holocaust, until now generally considered a unique fact, in its own right, absolutely incomparable to others. And not without some reason, if we consider the use of technology, the formal rationality, the planning behind the round-ups, the arrival of the trains in the fields, the emptying of the wagons, etc., on which the specimen had focused film by Claude Lanzman, Shoah. A theme well present in The temptation to forget by Franco Ferrarotti, once published by the Laterza publishing house (1993). Europe's bad conscience had not been extraneous to this strong underlining of the uniqueness of the Shoah, despite the awareness of the extermination also involving the Roma, people with disabilities, political opponents and many others. But the theme of porrajmos, the genocide of the Roma, has only recently emerged. It is certainly the first time I have heard a Jewish historian speak in terms of resemblance and analogy of the Holocaust with other genocides: in my turn I confirm that the idea had also occurred to some sociologists and that they were working on it. Milena Santerini, parliamentarian and professor at the Catholic University of Milan, takes up the theme of the Day to be dedicated to the righteous, something Nissim suggested to her and on which she is committing herself because she finds it a hypothesis of particular interest to the extent that when we speak of the 'righteous' we speak of men and women – he says. Not of heroes. On this evening she first and then Nissim himself underline this concept. Indeed, Nissim intervenes at length, clarifying that Wegner interested him precisely because of some contradictory elements in his life. He recalls for example, in addition to the delay with which he made the Armenian genocide public, his letter to Hitler, which gives the book its title. Because Wegner, who has meanwhile married Lola Landau, made a long trip to Russia, which interested him greatly. Admire the work organization, the attempt to overcome the petit bourgeois mentality. But he has doubts about the prevailing dogmatism, about cruelty, about ill-treatment, about anti-Jewishness. He will write in 1928 to M. Gor'kij, several times, even sending him a list of 94 prisoners: he would like him to intervene on the matter. He is absolutely scandalized by the treatment of Trotsky, by the denial of any dissent. On his return to Berlin Wegner publishes the diary of this trip. With the result that at home he will pass for an enlightened communist, while in Russia he will not even be able to get it published. In reality, Armin Wegner - writes Nissim - changes his mind about Russia, as far as he has seen and touched: after having rejected communism, he will seem to accept it, even if amidst torments and lacerations. Meanwhile, anti-Semitism is mounting in Germany. Lola, a Jewess, senses danger immediately. We are in 1933. She discusses it with her husband. Her children have problems at school, the suppliers refuse to sell them food, the maid quits; even where they have been going for years, near a lake, people are hostile: Armin thinks everything will be resolved with the return to Berlin.
There is also a boycott of Jewish shops in Berlin. Looting. On April 20, Armin wrote a letter to Hitler (the complete text is given at the end of the book, with another letter of his to the American president Wilson, dated February 23, 1919, pro Armenians). He writes to defend the honor of Germany, convinced that Hitler will be able to intervene usefully: he explains to him that the Jews are an integral part of Germany, which would be an indelible stain for Germany, if the persecutions were to continue. He trusts that Hitler, informed by him of what is happening, can usefully intervene, for the good of Germany. It reminds him, among other things, of what had happened in Spain, at the time, with the expulsion of the Jews: if something like this were to happen again, Germany would suffer great economic damage. He wrote on 20 April: on 10 May more than twenty thousand books were burned in the square, including those by Wegner. On August 16 he will be arrested. And then stripped, beaten, frustrated. Taken in buckets of water. He will end up in a concentration camp (he will see three in all). All this strengthens, in some way, his love for Germany. Meanwhile, talk of divorce begins: Lola thinks it would be better for him to distance himself from a Jewish wife. But in the meantime he writes – we are on 9 November 33 – a defensive memorial. And on December 26, therefore after several months of detention, he will be released. Nissim affirms in the book and also says it in the presentation in Rome, that probably Armin, in order to obtain his release, will have signed some abjuration: it is not known. It's not certain but it's probable. 1934 proves to be a year of uncertainty. Armin is free, he is admitted to the Reich Writers' Union, he is notified that there are no more suspicions against him. He will get back the books already seized; he will repossess a beloved lake house. He plans Lola's return to Germany who has been wisely traveling for some time to seek funds for the emigration of Jews. In London they offer him to stay, to finish the book on the Armenians: he refuses because it would cause waves of hatred against Germany. The Wegner couple will return to Germany with their daughter Sibylle. 1935 is the year of the Nuremberg laws, of Lola's decision to go to Palestine with her daughter. In the Roman evening Nissim underlines the wisdom of her decision; which will be implemented in '36. She would like Armin to join her. Whether he, whether she returned to Germany or at least came to Italy: together they could easily go on trips to Germany. Thankfully, she refuses to leave Palestine. In December Armin is in Italy, with all his stuff, with his beloved books. He has rediscovered an old love, Irene Kowaliska, who at the time owned a ceramics factory in Vietri. They will exchange visits (he is in Positano). In 38 he divorced Lola. Who nevertheless remains on good terms with her ex-husband: who will write to her on 24 July 39 to tell her that he had made an agreement with the German embassy and that he had been rehabilitated, so much so that he became a member of the National Socialist Association of the Reich in Italy. A formal fact, he explains. At the end of the year he will be born to Irene Mischa, who will later be recognized by his father. Nissim recalls these events extensively in the book. Faster in Rome. And he concludes by saying that Armin Wegner is, in his opinion, a just man. A typical fair. Namely a man. Someone who is wrong, who makes errors of interpretation, who can have ambiguous behaviors. But which, in this specific case, intervenes against totalitarianisms: the Russian one, the Hitlerite anti-Jewish one. The Turkish one that meant the genocide of the Armenians. And he spoke publicly. Not a hero, but a man. Mischa Wegner, seated to my right, asks to speak. I know him as a deeply kind person. He certainly inherited great idealism from his father. I am concerned about his reaction in the face of this sort of desecration of the figure of the father. But he calmly takes the floor. Nissim – he says – has worked hard to create a book in which his father is somehow celebrated. Instead, today he spent words to demonstrate that he was a common man, that he was right but also wrong. Who is not a hero but a just man. Well, he, Mischa Wegner, agrees with this view. His father was certainly a man, not a hero. A man with his fears and his courage.
Let's open the debate. The dominant theme, from the outset, is that of the day to be dedicated, possibly, to the righteous. Is it time to ask? Is Milena Santerini right to pose this request? asks a lady in the room. The public is divided, even if she forcefully rejects the hypothesis, arguing that there are too many days dedicated to this and that theme. That after a few years its original meaning is lost and everything turns into a tired ritual.
In fact, in recent days there is a wide range of opinions on the internet regarding days dedicated to remembrance, with diversified positions ranging from those of those who find that the Holocaust has been talked about too much and that the day of remembrance has been lost meaning over the years, to the theses of those who instead underline its meaning and importance, the help for the transmission of memory to the new generations. Impossible to resolve a complex issue like this in a few minutes: this debate should be resumed at another time. I therefore turn to the exponent of the Casa della Memoria e della Storia presente, asking her to remember it, if possible, in future programming. The public, which has followed with keen interest, which has participated in the debate from different positions, with a certain vehemence, seems very happy. We are all warmly thanked. I believe that what was perceived was the deep interest that we all had for the topic dealt with. Because indeed Armin Wegner is an interesting and contradictory character. Or perhaps interesting precisely because it is a man with all his contradictions. A man therefore more real, more credible than certain mythicized characters, certain heroes whose hesitations and weaknesses are unknown. The book is therefore interesting and easy to read, partly due to the curiosity that the figure of Armin Wegner arouses, partly due to the sliding narrative style used by the author. Among other things, initially and for a long time he uses a character extraneous to him to talk about Wegner. In fact, the book opens in a Roman scenario, in which a twenty-year-old Johanna is looking for a job and to this end she reads the announcements in the «Messaggero». Answer that of an unknown Armin Wegner who is looking for a secretary. She goes to his house, at Via dei Quattro Venti 104. They agree. And she gets to know him, his wife Irene, his son Mischa. He types his letters, mostly addressed to his daughter Sibylle, to a certain Lola Landau who lives in Israel and to other strangers. Then, one day, Armin makes her an atypical request: to retype a letter he had sent to Hitler in 1933. The girl listens with skepticism to the explanations that Armin gives her when asked for clarification: he wants it to be published in Germany. No, it's not written now, he wrote it then, in 1933. What happened to the letter at the time? He does not know. He can't know. What he knows for sure is that he was arrested, with all the consequences of the case, a few days after sending it. You, Johanna, immediately think of a braggart. However, he replies the letter, to which he makes continuous, small improvements. He copies it in hundreds of copies: Armin wants to send it to German newspapers, to friends, to politicians. Then, Johanna returns to Germany, follows courses at the university. Forget the Roman experience. Years go by and the time comes to request a degree thesis. Ten years after having been Wegner's secretary, she, pushed by her teacher, who considers her lucky for this recoverable contact, will find herself talking to Wegner, recording his memories for the thesis. And for a good part of the book the writer Nissim uses Johanna's voice, her supposed reactions, her reasoning to interpret Armin's events. Because you wrote about it, there is indeed a publication of yours in A. Wegner, in German. Here however, in this book, Nissim evidently attributes to her thoughts, reactions, doubts which are his own. And indeed at one point in the book, Johanna disappears. In conclusion, a well-researched, thoughtful book. Not hagiographic. Three hundred four pages that tell the life, the work, the thought of an Armin T. Wegner who stands out on the cover, in uniform, his face still youthful, his gaze intent on scrutinizing something we cannot see. Perhaps, the genocides of the twentieth century.
