| Vienna,
June 20
Austrias affair with Kurt Waldheim is a little like the affair
betwen the French diplomat and the Chinese tenor who have
just been sent to prison in Paris for spying. The tenor, Shi
Peipu, was a secret agent who liked to dress up in his couretsan's
robes from the Peking Opera. He put them on one day for a
party at the French Embassy, seduced the diplomat, whose name
was Bernard Boursicot, and began a romance that went on for
twent years - providing China with a lof interesting information
from the Embassy's diplomatic pouch. The odd thing about Shi
Peipu is not that he spied but that for twenty years he kept
his lover convinced he was a woman (only "very modest"),
and that M. Boursicot went to prison refusing, really, to
change his mind. The odd thing about Kurt Waldheim is not
his war file or the Nazi clubs he joined as a student but
the fact that for forty years he dressed up in patriot's clothes,
invented a past for decoration, and seduced Austria, and now
Austria would rather defend those inventions than discuss
its own interest in maintaining them.
A diplomat here with a clearer head than M. Boursicot's said
the other day that postwar Austria is like an opera sung by
the understudies, and there is some truth to the observation.
There have not been many people stature in Austria since the
war. There have been people like Kurt Waldheim, pretending
to stature, and there has been a public anxious to believe
in them. Vienna is probably the only iEuropean capital where
it is considered normal, among the intelligentsia, o be a
monarchist. It is not that the Viennese miss the Hapsburgs
- though there are certainly people here who do miss the Hapsburgs.
The Viennese miss the city they had when the Hapsburgs were
around. They miss what they call the thickness of culture.
They may not know it, but they miss the Czecjs and the Hungarians
and the Jews who lived there. They miss the "joyous apocalypse"
of art and design and thought which produced the work that
is making the museum rounds - the Wien Künstlerhaus,
the Centre Pompidou, the Museum of Modern Art - in various
versions of the fin de siécle Vienna show at the last
Venice Biennale. Vienna itself has been returned to the natives,
and it is a provincial place, a kind of imperial ghost town.
It is beautiful and full of charm, but the nostaIgia here
is so desperate, and so deep, that it seems to have exhausted
the Viennese. They long for prominence . Kurt Waldheim lied
about a past that inciuded three years of devoted service
to a Nazi general who was hanged for war crimes when the war
was over, but the Austrians elected him President this month,
and the reason they did may have less to do with Nazi stirrings
or anti-Semitism, or even stubbornness, than with the indisputable
fact that Waldheim is prominent - by which they mean that
people who are not Austrians recognize his name. Waldheim
was Secretary-General of the United Nations from 1972 until
1982, and Austrians - nearly fifty-four per cent of them,
anyway - do not much care that he was a terrible Secretary-General
for every one of those years, that he was greedy and cowardly
and vain and laughably ambitious, or that he wanted to stay
and was defeated, or that he tried to leave New York with
the residence furniture and did, in fact, manage to leave
with the silver. At home, he has let it be known that he ran
the world from his United nations suite, and by and large
the people at home believe him. How he ran the world is not
important. What is important is that the world was run by
an Austrian.
The irony, of course, is that the rhetoric has been so xenophobic.
Waldheim's posters said things like "We Austrians Will
Vote For Whom We Want!" (Originally, the posters said
"Jetzt Erst Recht!" and had a yellow stripe, but
they were taken down when somebody pointed out that Hitler
had used the same stripe and the same slogan on his posters.)
Waldheim's managers talked about a conspiracy of Americans
and Israelis and the World Jewish Congress, despite the fact
that research into Waldheim's past had aready been going on
for months in Austria, and by Austrians, by the time the World
Jewish Congress got involved. Voting fol Waldheim, people
said, was "voting for Austria". All the same, the
poster everybody liked, the poster Waldheim always signed
for the children, was not the one with the Alps in the background
or the one with Frau Waldheim in a dirndl - it was the poster
of Kurt Waldheim and the Manhattan skyline, the one signifying
his celebrity. Austrians feel about Kurt Waldheim the way
they feel about Gerhard Berger, who races in the Grand Prix
in Monaco and talks to Princess Caroline and Princess Stephanie.
He is an Austrian who made good away from home.
This much is known about Kurt Waldheim's career. He was always
adaptable in his own interests. It was said to be a family
virtue (the family name Watzlawik, became a properly Ger 'an
"WaIdheim" when German names got to be more desirable
than Slavic ones), although Waldheim's father, Walter, was
notably unadaptable. He was an admirer of Engelbert Dollfuss,
the catholic fascist Who ran the country for two years in
the nineteen-thirties, abolished Austrian democracy, and was
assassinated by Nazis. When the Nazis took over, Walter Waldheim
lost his job. There is a report on young Kurt Waldheim from
the Nazi leader in his home town, Tulln, about fifteen miles
from Vienna, which says that before the Anschluss Waldheim
was a diligent Catholic who opposed National Socialismin in
a "disgusting" way - he had stood on street corners
handing out leaflets that said "Vote Austria, Not Nazi"
- but that after the Anschluss he was a diligent soldier of
the Reich and "served us well". In fact, two weeks
after the Anschluss Waldheim joined the Nazi Student Union.
One week after Kristallnacht, he joined a cavalry unit of
the Storm Troopers - in German, the Sturmabteilung, or S.A.
The Storm Troopers had made a name for themselves in Vienna
on Kristallnacht, burning synagogues, but Waldheim seems to
have joined because their riding club was a place where a
young Austrian starting out on a law career could make the
best contacts. He lived his whole life in the same spirit.
When it was time to marry, he chose a girl, Elisabeth Ritschel,
who held the right new National Socialist views, and had joined
the Nazi Party as soon as she was eighteen. When it was time
to write his law-school thesis, he chose for a subject a German
nationalist named Konstantin Frantz, whose concept of the
Reich, Waldheim said, had finally been realized in the "current
great conflict ... with the non-European world." Two
years into the war, he got himself attached to the staff of
the German High Command for the Balkans, under General Alexander
Löhr, and that was a job with so many contacts that Waldheim
ended up with a King Zvonimir medal from the Croatian puppet
state. He also ended up as Case No. R/N/684 in the United
Nations War Crimes Commission file, charged with "murder"
and with "putting hostages to death " Officially,
he was a translator, an interpreter, and a "special missions
staff officer." His job involved verifying and transmitting
special orders, and, eventually, recommending on those orders
and making sugiestions of his own. He was in Greece for the
High Command when forty eight thousand jews from Salonika
and Corfu were rounded up and sent to Auschwitz and Bergen-Bueplse.
He was there, after the Italian surrender, when a hundred
thousand Italian soldiers who were left in the country were
seized and deported to German camps. He was in Yugoslavia
for the High Command when massacres of thousands of partisans
and their families took place. As far as the record goes,
Waldheim never murdered anyone himelf or personally "put
to death" any hostage. "I only did my duty,"
he says now. He initialled the orders that crossed his desk
and the reports that those orders had been carried out, and
sometimes he wrote the reports himself and kept the staff
logbook. When the war was over, he walked into the Foreign
Office in occupied Vienna and asked for a job. He carried
three letters in his pocket - one from Tulln's leading Socialist,
one from Tulln's leading Catholic, and one from the mayor.
All the letters said what a good patriot Kurt Waldheim was.
+++
No one knows when Waldheim actually began to reinvent his
war - when he started saying that he was medically discharged
from the Wehrmacht in December of 1941, after a grenade splintered
in his ankle (the wound is real) on the Russian front, and
spent the rest of the war with his law books in Vienna. Every
Austrian with a connection to the Nazi Party had to fill out
a "de-Nazification" questionnaire by the end of
january, 1946. Waldheim, answering his, listed his membership
in a National Socialist "riding club" (but not the
S.A. Reiterei) and not much else. He was never formally "de-Nazified".
His file went to the Justice Ministry and then the Foreign
Ministry, and in the confusion it was never closed.
There were half a million Austrian Nazis - more Nazis, proportionally,
than in Germany - and a million Austrians in the German Army,
and many of them had records worse than Kurt Waldheims. What
makes Kurt Waldheim exceptional is not his record but the
trouble he took to erase it. There was no shame here in having
been a soldier. In 1943, in Moscow, the Allies had signed
a declaration to the effect that Austria was not a Nazi state
but Nazism's first victim, and after the war this was how
Austria chose to see itself. So many Austrians had joined
the Nazi Party for cover or protection that it was easy for
people who had joined in weakness or terror, or even out of
enthusiasm or ideology, to begin to believe the same of themselves.
Of course, the real victims of Nazism were not around to contradict
them. A hundred and ten thousand Austrians (sixty thousand
of them Jews) died in the course of the war in concentration
camps. As for the Jews here - there were a hundred and eighty-nine
thousand Jews in Vienna in 1938; when the war ended, there
were six hundred.
+++
The first accusations of any importance against Kurt Waldheim
were made in 1947, in Yugoslavia, by a Wehrmacht captain named
Karl-Heinz Egberts-Hilker, who was on trial for his life and
was later hanged as a war criminal. Egberts-Hilker tried to
implicate Waldheim as the responsible officer in a series
of reprisal murders in Macedonia in October of 1944 (three
villages were burned, a hundred and fourteen villagers were
killed), and those murders were the basis of the dossier the
Yugoslavs passed on to the United Nations War Crimes Commission
that year, with testimony from a German Army clerk and a recommendation
that Waldheim be placed on an "search list", arrested
and extradited to Yugoslavia for trial. The recommendation
was disregarded - either intentionally or for lack of evidence
or because there were more than thirty-six thousand warcrimes
dossiers on file at the United Nations then, and no way they
could all be processed. When the commission disbanded, in
1948, every member state got an index of those thirty-six
thousand dossiers, but Austria was not a member in 1948. Austria
joined the United Nations in 1955, after the occupation ended,
and by then Kurt Waldheim was well along in his career in
the Foreign Service. He served under four Foreign Ministers
before he got the job himself, in 1968. The first was Karl
Gruber, who had led the Austrian resistance. Gruber had brought
bis friends from the resistance into the Ministry with him,
and one of them, his secretary, wad a young man named Fritz
Molden, who had been the liaison between the Austrian underground
and the Allies - and who spoke in Waldheim's defense during
the campaign this spring. Molden still remembers the day in
November of 1945 that Waldheim walked into his office in the
Foreign Ministry, looking, Waldheim said, for personnel. The
two men started talking, and Molden says that it seemed to
him that Wadheim, with his law degree and bis "clean"
war, would make a good diplomat. That day, he recommended
the young lawyer with the bad ankle to Karl Gruber. Gruber
hired him - conditionally. There were rumors about Waldheim
in Vienna, and Gruber had Molden check those rumos with the
political police and then with the Interior Minister, an old
Socialist named Oskar Helmer, and finally with the Allied
Counter Intelligence Corps and the Office of Srategic Services.
In ten days, he had clearance from them all.
Waldheim was twenty-seven and useful, and, whatever the rumors
were, most people figured that he was at worst an accomplice,
the way so many Austrians had been accomplices. "He was
no hero," Molden says now. It is easy to understand why
Austria did not pursue him. The politicians of the Great Coalition,
as the postwar government was called, were Socialists, Communists,
and Catholics from the Volkspartei - the People's Party -
and they had either been in the resistance together or in
Dachau together. But he peopie who did the voti were mostly
former Wehrmacht soldiers and their families, and by the end
of 1949 five hundred thousand ex-Nazis (nearly a tenth of
Austria) were eligible to vote, too. The official story was
that every old Nazi was a potential democrat, the way every
soldier of the Third Reich was an Austrian patriot liberated
by Hitler's defeat. Just about every young man in Austria
who was not demonstrably a war hero or a war criminal had
doctored his record in some way and arranged his protection,
was arranging it. Some people think that Waldheim may have
arranged his by informing. He was, by all accounts, as pliant
at the Foreign Ministry as he was at the United Nations -
doing favors, currying favor, careful never to take a moral
stand or, indeed, any stand that could isolate him or make
him unpopular. Certainly the Yugoslavs never pursued their
charges against him. None of the Allies seem to have looked
him up officially until he was elected Secretary-General,
in 1971, and then they either ignored the reports they got
or used them for the Secretar General's friendship. There
are stories that he was an agent of influence, early on, for
Yugoslavia. There are als stories hat he was an agent for
Russia and its allies, because the Russians backed him at
the United Nations right off, vetoing the Finnish delegate
Max Jakobson and campaigning against other candidates who
were more impressive than Waldheim. He was the Foreign Minister
here when Russia invaded Czechoslovakia in August of 1968,
and it obviously suited the Russians that he ordered the Embassy
in Prague closed to everyone except Austrian citizens. (Waldheim's
ambassador in Prague, who happens to have been Rudolf Kirchschläger,
the President, he is succeeding now, ignored him and kept
the Embassy open anyway.) But if Waldheim was an agent of
influence for the Yugoslavs and the Russans, the chances are
that he was also an agent for the Americans and the British
and the French and just about everybody else with access to
bis file, including, in time, the Austrians. The curriculum
vitae he gave to Fritz Molden late in 1945 lists his military
service in the Balkans. Supposedly, no one outside the Foreign
Ministry ever saw it until it turned up a couple of months
ago -to great fanfare at Waldheim headquarters - as proof
that he had always been an honest (if not an honorable) man.
The fact is, though, that people in the Ministry saw it, or
could have seen it, and not only did they give him a job -
they never corrected his public story. There is no mention
of the war at all in the vita that Austria sent to the United
Nations in 1971 to support his candidacy.
It seems now that Tito may have known about Waldheim, and
chose to use him. (Tito's old vice-president, Mitja Ribicic,
thinks so.) The dossier that left Belgrade for the United
Nations War Crimes Commission in February of 1947 said that
Waldheim was a fugitive, but not that he was a fugitive in
Vienna, or that he was working, as he was by then, as a special
assistant to the Austrian Foreign Minister - although the
Yugoslavs knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
They told their ambassador in London in a cover letter that
left Belgrade at the same time. The point is that since the
war there have been people in high places who knew or could
have known that Kurt Waldheim was an intelligence officer
for a war criminal, charged with transmitting requests and
permissions involving reprisals and deportations and civilian
murders, and that every one of them ignored or suppressed
the information he had, figuring either that it was harmless
or hurtful or useful or even profitable to himself. Waldheim
was obviously not a spy, a Shi Peipu in a three-piece suit,
any more than he was, technically speaking, a murderer. It
was simply that his secret made him obliging. Israel Singer,
the secretary-general of the World Jewish Congress, says that
Kurt Waldheim is like the girl who takes a quarter here, a
quarter there, and builds a clientele hat way - with two-bit
favors that add up to a lot of time in bed.
+++
All of Austria knows there is a World Jewish Congress. Ever
since February, when the congress hired a historian from the
University of South Carolina named Robert Herzstein, to trace
Kurt Waldheim's war by going to the National Archives and
looking for every piece of paper that Waldheim signed or initialled
as a "special missions staff officer" for General
Löhr, the World Jewish Congress has had the peculiar
status of a great enemy power. Quite few other people have
been tracing Waldheim's war - most notably a`young reporter
named Hubertus Czernin, who works for the Vienna newsweekly
Profil and who started to investigate Waldheim, and the charges
against him, late last winter. But the congress is, so to
speak, the enemy of choice. It is not that Austrians have
any idea of what the World Jewish Congress is or whom it represents
or who supports it. (It is a kind of umbrella organization,
with headquarters in New York, which looks after the interests
of Jewish communities in seventy countries. A lot of its support
came from the Zionist Nahum Goldmann, who helped to found
it in 1936,and, recently, from Edgar Bronfman, the Seagram's
heir.) The problem, as one Vienna psychoanalyst put it, is
that World Jewish Congress "sounds Jewish."
Waldheim himself is not known as an anti-Semite. He seems
to have initialled away the lives of Serbin partisans as easily
as he initialled the transit orders for Greek Jews on their
way to Auschwitz. The only prejudice that might have seriously
interfered with his career was a dislike of short people:
Wiener magazin says that when he was Foreign Minister he tried
to introduce a heigt requirement for the Foreign Service,
so that only tall people could join the diplomat corps. But
Austria has what could be called an antl- Semitic "vocabulary
of explanation", and Waldheim - apart from one speech
about Jewish suffering, very late in his campaign - did nothing
really to discourage that vocabulary. Occasionally, he used
it himself. He let it be known that the World Jewish Congress
controlled the foreign press. He lingered over Jewish names.
He stood by, smiling benignly, at provincial rallies while
the local Bürgermeister went on and on about the foreign
conspiracy against Austria's most famous citizen. He stood
by, here in Vienna, while "patriots" in Trachten
beat up people demonstrating against him and the police looked
on. Waldheim is not a clever man. He is single-minded and
implacably insensitive, and nothing - certainly not the prejudices
of his admirers - seems to embarrass him. He was not embarrassed
to have been caught lying about where he was and what he was
doing from 1942 to 1945 any more than he was embarrassed to
have been caught using the United Nations diplomatic pouch
to send soft American toilet paper to his family here. He
learned one gesture for his campaign: whenever he was at a
loss for something to say or something to do, he would open
his arms in a kind of big, empty welcome. The gesture was
automatic, like the movement of a windup toy. He learned his
lines the same way - automatically. (He always did - Once,
when he was on a United Nations famine-inspection tour in
Africa, he greeted a mother with a dying baby in her arms
by telling her what a lovely child she had.) It was clear,
once the rumours about him started, that a man with a murky
past could easily become President of Austria if he was a
victim of Jewish conspiracies, just as a country with a murky
past could easily become a democratic republic if it was a
victim of Nazism. It was clear to the people in the Volkspartei,
who had already put him up for President in 1971 and lost,
and it was clear to the people at Young and Rubicam, who were
planning his campaign this time around, and who took a leave
of absence to continue with Waldheim after the scandal broke
and the agency cancelled its contract. "We were looking
for impact - you know, a strong color and a strong slogan,"
one of the advertising men said when he was asked about the
poster borrowed from the National Socialists. "We'll
as a client if the product is in line with the strategy, but
it's not our business to ask if the product is really washing
whiter."
There are only about seven thousand Jews in Austria, so any
anti-Semitism here is anti-Semitism in its purest form - anti-Semitism
without Jews. Harald Leupold-Löwenthal, the head of the
Vienna Freud Society, calls it the Austrian disease - the
negation of reality in fantasy. His friend Peter Michael Lingens,
the editor of ProfiI, says that once you are guilty of killing
millions of Jews, you don't really need more Jews around to
know you hate them. Every couple of years, somebody here takes
a poll about anti-Semitism and the results never vary - seventy
per cent of the Austrian people dislike Jews, and about a
third of those people strongly dislike Jews, and a third of
them consider Jews "foul" and are physically revolted
in a Jew's presence. Bruno Kreisky, who was Chancellor for
thirteen years and is a Jew himself, says the polls are nonsense
- first, because Austrians elected him, and, second, bevause
you can't base anti-Semitism, as some polls evidently do,
on whether people enjoy telling Jewish jokes. Hitler, of course,
was Austrian, and claimed to have learned his anti-Semitism
in Vienna. He said that bis ideal leader was someone who could
combine the radical racial doctrine of George von Schönerer,
whom he heard about here as a young man, with the scapegoat
politics of Karl Lueger, who got to be mayor, in 1897, by
convincing Viennas workers that there would be plenty of money
for everyone if only the Jews were gone. Lueger held torchlight
rallies and burned the Rothschilds in effigy while Schönerer
and his friends carved Jewish heads on their canes and talked
in parliament about Jewish devils, and between them they managed
to create a theatre of race and a myth of race which had their
paradigmatic moment on Kristallnacht, when forty-two of Vienna's
forty-three synagogues were destroyed.
Most Austrians alive today have never known a Jew or had
a Jewish neighbor, though Kurt Waldheim certainly had Jewish
neighbors when he moved to Ne York and took up residence in
the Secretary-General's mansion, on Sutton Place. New York
was obviously not the place for Waldheim to announce that
he had spent the a better part of the Second World War working
for a war criminal. His biography "washed whiter"
in New York. The story in New York (it was in a book of his
called "The Challenge of Peace") went: "The
knowledge that I was serving in the German army was hard to
bear. Deliverance from my bitter situation finally came when
our unit moved into active combat on the Eastern front in
1941. I was wounded in the leg and medically discharged."
In 1980, when Waldheim was thinking about a third term as
Secretary-General, the United Nations War Crimes Commission
files were mysteriously closed. No one, as it happens, was
looking for Waldheim's dossier at the United Nations. The
French had already looked him up in the Allied War Archives
in Berlin, and so had the Wes Germans, and they all, for reasons
of their own, said nothing. But by 1980 the Americans had
an Office of Special Investigations to look for war criminals,
and had asked for access to the commission files. The American
Attorney General, Benjamin Civiletti, wrote the Secretary-General,
thanking him in advance for bis cooperation - and it was after
that that all access lo Ihe files was cancelled. When the
New York Congressman Stephen Solarz wrote to Waldheim a few
months later - Solarz had been reading a little about Waldheim's
past in The New Republic - Waldheim was so offended that he
replied, "I have not hitherto considered it necessary
to react to slanders such as the one you quote."
+++
It was Bruno Kreisky who suggested Waldheim to the United
Nations in 1971. Waldheim was looking for something distinguished
to do. He had already been an ambassador and a foreign minister,
and once he lost the Presidential election that year there
was not much point for him in staying home. It was never a
question of making Waldheim Chancellor. The Chancellor runs
Austria (though not the world) whereas the President has very
little to do besides, as Waldheim put it this ntime around,
"moral renewal". Austrians were aware that Waldheim
was cut out for something much more ceremonial than life at
the chancellery, something on the order of embassy receptions
and official visitors. For Chancellor, they preferred Kreisky
- a brilliant and irascible Socialist who was so assimilated
that he could call Menachem Begin a terrorist and Muammar
Qaddafi a patriot and never admit to the contradiction. Being
"assimilated" has a special meaning in Austria.
Once, it was a legal status. Assimilated Jews - under the
Hapsburgs, the official word was tolerierte, or "tolerated"
- had rights and privileges that other Jews did not. They
were what Hannah Arendt called a "state-people".
The Austrians called them "court Jews," and this
was often what they called themselves. Becoming assimilated
was like changing nationalities, and there were not many assimilated
Jews in Vienna before the war who identified with the shtetl
Jews who had made their way here from Poland and Russia. They
were very Austrian in their negation of reality in fantasy.
It was not that anti-Semitism surprised them - anti-Semitism
has always been part of Austrian life and politics. It was
being identified with other Jews that they found difficult
to accept. They agreed with Gustav Mahler, who wrote in bis
journal that Jews were smelly people with black robes and
long hair. When someone referred to Mahler (who was by then
Catholic) as "the Jew Mahler," he replied, "I
do not belong to the same people." Kreisky might easily
say that he does not belong to the same people as the Polish
Jews who came to Vienna from the camps in 1945 and opened
cobbler shops and tailor shops in the Ring, or the old Hungarian
Jews who arrived in 1956, or the Soviet Jews who live near
Mexikoplatz, across the Danube Canal, and run a rough black
market with contraband from the East European river freighters
that make the Danube route. On the other hand, it was partly
due to Kreisky's diplomacy that two hundred and sixty thousand
Soviet Jews got exit visas during the thirteen years that
he was Chancellor, and entirely due to bis authority that
Austria opened its borders to every one of them as a place
to live while they were deciding where to go. Most of the
Jews here now are Eastern Jews. There are only a few thousand
Austrian Jews - Jews who came home after the war or the children
of those Jews. Kreisky himself spent the war in exile in Sweden
and has Swedish wife, and sometimes he calls himself a Jew
and sometimes he says that to call Bruno Kreisky a Jew you
would have to use the same crazy racial categories that the
Nazis invented at Nuremburg. He dislikes Zionists and Zionism.
This has made him something of a pariah to Jews abroad, but
in bis day it made him the one European leader who could negotiate
for the West in the Arab world.
The intellectuals here like Kreisky. They say that he is
authoritarian and proud and Ihat he nearly ruined his party,
but they consider him one of them, because he reads what they
write and shows up at their Graz conferences and always drops
them a note when they publish something good, saying, "Loved,
the book, Yours, Kreisky." Even his enemies admit that
he is the most interesting Austrian politician in forty years.
It may be that in his own way Kreisky is assimilated to anti-Semitism.
Erika Weinzierl, a historian at the University of Vienna,
says that whenever Kreisky attacks the Israelis or the "Jewish
lobby" (meaning American Jews who do not agree with either
his Middle Eastern policies or his socialist politics) there
are Austrians who think, If the Jew Kreisky can talk like
this, then we can, too. She says that Kreisky has not done
very much more than Waldheim to correct that vocabulary of
explanation which has to do with Jews and Jewish conspiracies
and Jewish power.
When Kreisky was elected for the first time, he brought a
lot of old Nazis into Austrian politics. This is no secret.
Kreisky says that in 1970 there were still more than a quarter
of a million Austrians alive who had belonged to the Nazi
Party, and that there was no way he could have run a government
with those Austrians disqualified from political life. He
says he took the old official story about turning Nazis into
democrats and made it his working hypothesis. The truth is
he would never had won in Austria in 1970 without making that
hypothesis. He recruited politicians with as much to account
for as Waldheim, and whenever anyone brought up their records
the Chancellor would say, "I back them, this has to be
the end of the discussion." A lot of people who voted
for Waldheim this month were really voting against Kreisky
and the Socialists. They said it was unfair to talk so piously
about Waldheim now, when there had been four ex-Nazis and
one S. S. officer in Kreisky's first government. It was particularly
unfair, they said when only three years ago Kreisky backed
a notorious old S.S. Sturmführer named Friedrich Peter
as a president of the Austrian parliament. Peter had a small
party of his own, called the Freedom Party, which was supposed
to protect the "Germanness" of Austrian life from
decadent Slavic influences, and which was clearly appealing
to old Nazis like him. The Freedom Party is in a coalition
with the Socialists now, but Kreisky had talked about a coalition
as early as 1975, when a round of parliamentary elections
was coming up and the Socialists were worried about their
majority. Simon Wiesenthal - the man who tracked down Adolf
Eichmann from a documentation center in Vienna - started investigating
Peter then. He discovered that Peter had spent two years on
"extermination duty", in the Soviet Union, with
an S.S unit that murdered at east ten thousand people - eigth
thousand of them Jews. Wiesenthal had already kept one S.S.
officer out of a Kreisky government. He never forgave Kreisky
for making peace with Nazis, and Kreisky never forgave him.
This time, Kreisky accused Wiesenthal of slandering him, of
slandering socialism, of slandering Austria abroad. He threatened
to take Wiesenthal to court. He called him a mafioso, and
then he said that Wiesenthal must have had an "understanding"
with the Nazis to have survived the war at all and especially
to ve lived through some of it "openly" and "unpersecuted".
Wiesenthal, who
spent the war in concentration camps, thereupon filed suit
against Kreisky, claiming that Kreisky, in effect, was caling
him a Gestapo agent, and Kreisky replied by naming a parliamentary
commission to investigate Wiesenthal's center. They were "the
only famous Jews left in Austria", as one reporter put
it, and before they backed off from their various suits and
investigations they nearly destroyed each other.
Wiesenthal is a conservative man. He is close to the Peoples
Party, and has beenfor years. No one here was surprised that
he refused to challenge Waldheim this spring - he said that
Waldheim was an opportunist, but that nobody yet had proved
he was a war criminal - or that he attacked the World Jewish
Congress, instead, for interfering in Austrian politics and
"undoing the work of years of reconciliation." Wiesenthal
is old, and maybe he is getting sentimental about Austria,
or maybe age has made him susceptible to what Dr. Leupold-Löwenthal
calls "the other Austrian disease" - "the situation
is hopeless but not serious" disease. As it is, a lot
of younger Austrians agree with Wiesenthal. They know the
Socialists are just as compromised as the People's Party in
their arrangements. Fred Sinowatz, the Socialist Chancellor,
quit after the elections this month. He was maladroit and
not too bright, and the coalition he made with Friedrich Peter's
party was a disaster. Three of Peter's friends joined Sinowatz's
government, including a Defense Minister who went to the Graz
airport one day last year to greet an S.S. major named Walter
Reder, who had just been sent home by the Italians after forty
years in a Gaeta prison.
Last year, the Socialists talked about approaching Kurt Waldheim
and asking him to run as their candidate. When the People's
Party got to him first, the Socialists attacked him. When
he came within sixteen thousand votes of the Presidency in
the first round of the election, they stopped attacking him.
They decided that every attack on Waldheim had meant a vote
for Waldheim - and announced that the interests of Austrian
unity and an honorable campaign they would not mention the
Second World War or Waldheim's part in it, until the voting
was over. Peter Michael Lingens, whose magazine exposed Wafdheim,
likes to tell a story about his mother and the election this
year. Frau Lingens was in the resistance. Her husband enrolled
her in the National Socialist Working Women for protection,
but she was caught and arrested anyway, in 1942, and sent
to Auschwitz, and since the war - at least, until now - she
has been a devoted Socialist. She voted for Waldheim, she
told her son, because of the hypocrisy of the whole campaign.
Some Austrians want to see the Socialists out of power so
badly that they do not much care that they had to start by
making Kurt Waldheim President. A President here may have
very little to do, but he does choose the Chancellor, and
there are parliamentary elections in another year and no clear
indication of what the majority will be, or even if there
is going to be a majority. The Socialists have already run
Austria for sixteen years, and there have been so many scams
and scandals over those years that until the Viennese began
to amuse themselves by betting on the countries that would
still let Waldheim in if he was President (Bulgaria led the
list, followed by Czechoslovakia, Libya, and Syria) the favorite
parlor game in Vienna was betting on how much money had disappeared
that week from the federal treasury. The economy in Austria
is a state economy. A lot of the industry belongs to the government,
and there are planned deficits to keep that industry going,
so that Austria can, say, sell a telephone system to the city
of Cairo and then loan the Egyptians the money to buy it.
There is room in the system for what Germans and Austrians
call Filz. (Filz means "felt", and people use it
when a deal is so matted with favors and bribes and padded
costs and hidden charges that you can't separate the threads.)
There are bureaucrats from the Vienna Rathaus in jail now
because of a hospital-construction scandal that has lasted
five years and put more than a hundred million schillings
- seven million dollars - into their various pockets. The
officers from a trading company of the country's biggest steel
conglomerate have been fired for "borrowing" a quarter
of a billion schillingd to invest in oil futures - and losing
them. It is not that the Socialists have a monopoly on graft.
(The most interesting scandal this year involved an insurance
company that the People's Party controls through one of ist
trade Bünde: everyone supposedly took home millions of
schillings, including a Cistercian abbot from Styria who was
interested in living better.) It is simply that state ownership
and state partnerships and state banking and state financing
and all the formulas of a state economy have created habits
of mind and opportunity that are now "institutionally
irresistible", as one banker put it. They are not so
different from the corporatist formulas the Fascists invented
in the nienteen-twenties and thirties (which is really how
Austria got them), but by now they are almost entirely associated
with Socialism and with sixteen years of Socialist government.
Kurt Steyrer, the Socialist who ran against Waldheim, is a
doctor, and a decent man but not a strong one. In 1983, when
he was Minister of Health and the Environment, the Socialists
wanted to build a power station at Hainburg, east of Vienna,
that would have flooded thousands of acres of rare wetland
forest. Ecologists and students stopped the project by demonstrating,
but Dr. Steyrer never said a word against it. His reputation
suffered so much, that even the Austrian ecologists came out
for Waldheim after the first round of voting this spring.
Waldheim himself began to talk solemnly in what is known as
his headwaiter's voice about clean air and clean water for
Austria's grandchildren. Kreisky pointed out that there is
not much Austria can do about ist grandchildren so long as
the countries around Austria have thirty-two nuclear reactors
of their own and thousands of nuclear warheads aimed across
ist. But the truth, as one young Austrian said, is that "none
of these old guys helped us much - not Waldheim, not Kreisky,
not Steyrer." It is not lost on young Austrians that
Kreisky himself built a nuclear reactor (there was a referendum
against it, and it was never used), or that Waldheim never
said a word about nuclear risk until Chernobyl exploded, and
the ecologists got five and a half per cent of the vote in
the first round of an election Waldheim was supposed to win
easily.
The fact is that no one really knows why Austria voted the
way it did this month. No one knows whether Austria voted
for Waldheim or against foreigners and Jews or for the People's
Party or against Socialists. No one eben knows whether the
politicians in the Peoples Party like Wldheim. Waldheim was
their Trojan horse, and he carried them a little close to
power, and it was a free ride. None of them had to climb down
and say what they were going to do once they got there. All
they had to say was "We Austrians Will Vote For Whom
We Want!"
+++
The first most Austrians heard about a problem involving
Kurt Waldheim was last September. People came home from vacation,
and by the end of the month anyone with a friend in the Socialist
Party knew that something was up - something terrible about
the war that was going to come out and finish Waldheim in
a couple of days. It is curious now how many people did think
that the news about Waldheim - not his past so much as his
having lied so calculatingly about the past - would finish
him. The Socialists figured it was a matter of time before
he dropped out of the election. The World Jewish Congress
gave him three or four days. The reporters at Profil concluded
that the Socialists were in business for another sixteen years.
The Socialists claim that they did not get interested in Waldheim
until January, when the Minister of Defense - the same minister
who had welcomed the S.S. major home - allowed some Air Force
officers to hang a plaque in honor of Alexander Löhr
on the wall of the National Defense Academy, in Vienna, and
in the discussion that followed someone mentioned that Kurt
Waldheim had been Löhr's adjutant. The truth is that
the Socialists were interested in Waldheim for as long as
they knew that he was running against them. A local historian
by the name of Georg Tidl had been working on Waldheim's file
for a year before anyone at Profil heard about Waldheim's
being a lieutenant in Löhr's Balkan command - the Heeresgruppe
E, it was called. Nobody knows whom Tidl was working on Waldheim
for - he is supposedly a little odd, and sometimes he says
the New York Times and sometimes the South Africans and sometimes
the "cossacks" - but the Socialists must have known
about his work, because even the People's Party knew about
it. ' Hubertus Czernin, at Profil, says that Tidl went to
the secretary of the People's Party in April of 1985 and told
him that Waldheim had some sort , of Nazi past, and that the
secretary refused to listen. After that, the information was
more or less available. Some people think that the Socialists
bought it, and eventually leaked it to the World Jewish Congress.
Other people say no, that it was not Tidl but a man named
Leon Zelman - he runs the Jewish Welcome Service here - who
got the information and told the Socialists and the congress
what was going on. Zelman is a Socialist and a Jew, a shtetl
Jew from Galicia. He spent three and a half years in concentration
camps - Auschwitz, Mauthausen, and finally a camp called Ebensee,
near Mauthausen - and then he settled in Vienna, and the little
Jewish community here has been his life and his passion. Early
last year, Zelman arranged an invitation for the World Jewish
Congress to hold its annual meeting in Vienna. It was the
first time the congress had met in Vienna since before the
war. And it happened to be the moment the Italians chose to
let Walter Reder out of jail. The government that welcomed
the World Jewish Congress one day welcomed the S.S. major
the next, and then, to everyone's distress, Chancellor Sinowatz
appeared at the congress to make amends and gave a speech
about how much the Sinowatzes had suffered the day the Jewish
family next door was taken away by the Gestapo. All the Sinowatz
children cried and cried, the Chancellor said, and had to
have a lot of candy to get over the experience.
Many of the Jews here are conservative, like Wiesenthal.
They look after themselves, and they do not want any more
trouble in their lives. They were embarrassed when people
from the World Jewish Congress started to talk about leaving
Vienna because of Walter Reder. They did not think it was
sensible for foreign Jews to talk publicly about whether to
stay in a country that sends ist Defense Minister to welcome
a war criminal home. They did not want the attenlion. Like
other Austrians, they did not want to confront the anti-Semitism
here. They preferred to put anti-Semitism in a drawer and
close the drawer and hope it would disappear, like an old
letter that has been around too long to answer. They liked
the euphemistic surfaces of Austrian life. They liked reality
that curved like a baroque bow into something pleasing. What
they did not like was Israel Singer - who is an abrasive character
- coming to Vienna and making judgments in their name. Many
of them thought it would be nice if Kurt Waldheim was President.
They approved of Waldheim for the reason other Austrians approved
of him - because he was prominent. Zelman's friends say that
when Zelman saw this his heart was broken. Now he tells people
that the city he loved so much, the city that gave him peace
and let him live in safety, was an illusion. "I was selling
an illusion," he said, two days before Waldheim won.
Waldheim made a trip to Jerusalem when he was at the United
Nations, and Zelman sometimes talks about that trip, because
Waldheim referred to Jerusalem as the Israeli capital, and
then, when his aides told him that as far as the United Nations
was concerned Tel Aviv was the capital, he refused to wear
a yarmulke at the Yad Vashem Memorial. Zelman says that of
these days Waldheim will show up at the synagogue in Vienna
to make his peace but that this time "I am sure that
he will put a yarmulke on, and I am not so sure that the congregation
will refuse to let him in."
+++
Hubertus Czernin started investigating Waldheim after the
Defense Minister and the Minister of Buildings had an argument
about whether to take down General Löhr' s plaque from
the Defense Academy wall. Cernin called the German military
archives, in Freiburg, and the Germans referred him to a veterans'
club in Linz, where an amateur historian was doing research
on Waldheim's Army unit in Russia. The historian, in turn,
sent Czernin to George Tidl and to the State Archives, here
in Vienna, behind the Ballhausplatz. Czernin had nothing against
Waldheim then. In January, when the argument about the plaque
started, someone from the Socialist Party had called him and
asked if he had heard the rumors about Waldheim. He said he
didn't take them seriously at all. He made a crack about Waldheim's
having been Löhr's righthand man, and mentioned it to
a reporter at Profil who was writing an article on the plaque.
The reporter did take the rumors seriously, and said so, and
the in'estigation began.
Czernin wanted to be fair with Waldheim. Actually, he was
so fair that he called on Waldheim and asked whether Waldheim
objected to his looking through some of the files at the State
Archives; he thought that maybe he could help clear up the
rumors that were going around. Waldheim, he says, was gracious,
or maybe just oblivious. He sent his secretary with Czernin.
The secretary was a young diplomat by the name of Ferdinand
Trauttmansdorff, who had come home from the embassy in Bucharest
for what he probably thought was going to be a predictable
and pleasant campaign that would put him in touch with a lot
of important people and look terrific on his resuné.
Czernin is Austrian by birth, Czech by origin. He is thirty
years old - a friendly young man with black hair falling in
his eyes and a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses on his nose
- and he wears polo shirts and bluejeans to the office and
carts around two plastic shopping bags full of books about
Nazis and Nazism, which he has been accumulating since the
Waldheim story broke. To many people here, Czernin presents
what has always been best about Austria - the et´hnicity,
the civility, the intelligence, the very "Austrian"
understanding of how complicated reality is. He is a fine
reporter in a city where most of the press is terrible. The
fact that it is terrible gives people something to complain
about and another wistful comparison to make with the golden
days when the press was good. The papers and magazines in
Austria belong to businessmen or to banks or chambers of commerce
with official links to the various partie, and they are expected
to serve their owners' interests. It may be true - the Viennese
say it is - that the country is so corrupt that you have to
queue upat the newspapers with your scandal, but it is also
true that most newspapers will turn you away. The papers identify
with power. They are respectful and obliging, and nearly all
of them chose to protect Kurt Waldheim. A piece of information
to the effect that, say, Kurt Waldheim once approved orders
for a "cleansing operation" that led to the deportation
of sixty thousand Yugoslavs to concentration camps would appear
in the papers here as "Jews Accuse Waldheim of War Crimes".
The biggest daily, a tabloid called Kronen Zeitung, with a
circulation of a million, belongs to a neighbor of Waldheim's
on the Attersee. Die Presse, which used to be the great Vienna
paper in the days when it was the Neue Freie Presse and had
people like Theodor Herzl contributing, belongs to the Chamber
of Commerce and reads like the People's Party public-relations
bulletin on newsprint. Profil itself belongs to al daily paper
called Kurier, which, in turn, belongs to a syndicate of businessmen
and an agricultural bank that are People's Party fiefdoms.
Lingens and his partner sold the magazine to Kurier in 1975,
when it was four years old and they were having a hard time
keeping it going, but they demanded an independent charter,
and guarantees, and to their surprise got them. They tried
o model Profil after a good German weekly. They made it look
like Der Spiegel, but they say they wanted it to sound like
Die Zeit. It had been so long since Austrians had read any
news about Austria besides good news that they did not know
what to make of a magazine that talked about "investigative
reporting" and had people running around the country
asking questions and printing the answers. They are used to
it now, but the fact is that any Austrians who did not read
Profil over the past six months could easily believe that
Kurt Waldheim spent the war with his law books, because that
is what the papers they did read told them.
Most young Austrians learn very little at home about the
Second World War. In school, if they get to the war at all,
they usually learn that the Second World War was the time
that foreigners came here and stole the Austrian farmer's
chickens. Hubertus Czernin says that his Gymnasium class never
even heard that there was a war. The class went right from
the Treaty of Versailles to the State Treaty of 1955, which
established the Austrian Republic. Czernin was one of the
lucky ones, he says, because he had parents who talked about
the war. Czernin's father knew a general in the plot against
Hitler and was sent to prison in Vienna and his maternal grandfather
was half Jewish and in politics, and he spent the war in the
concentration camp at Mauthausen. Czernin and Lingens have
the resistance in common - which means they have the war in
common - and it may be because of this that the magazine took
it as a duty to establish a record of Kurt Waldheim's career.
Not any Austrians are willing to make a distinction between
the men who fought for Hitler and the men who refused. In
1947, the priest of a parish church near Linz asked his bishop
for permission to print a story in the church newsletter about
a devout Catholic farmer named Franz Jägersteter, who
had refused to swear an oath to the Third Reich when he was
drafted, and was executed. The shop said no. He said so many
other Austrians had lost their lives fighting that it would
not be right to take one farmer who had lost his life for
not fighting and call him a hero.
At first, a lot of the people at Profil and on Waldheim's
staff believed that Waldheim represented those "other
Austrians". When he talked about the war at all, he talked
about the hundreds of thousands of Austrians who were in the
Wehrmacht. He neve missed a chance to mention that the only
serious attempt at a coup against Hitler was the Wehrmacht
coup in July of 1944, but he never addressed the war itself,
or his lying about the war, or the cost to himself or to any
Austrian soldier of having fought for Hitler. The problem
- at least for the staff that planned his strategy and wrote
his speeches was that he could never really bring himself
to identify wilh those hundreds of thousands of Austrians
who were not heroes, who were drafted and given a uniform
with a swastika and sent away to fight. Some of his staff
wanted him to talk about the difficulty of heroism, to take
the part of ordinary Austrians who had lacked the will or
the courage or the understanding to resist, and to say something
about a life spent working for a world in which decent, ordinary
people like that would never have to confront such a terrible
choice again - and fail themselves. It was, to say the least,
a moment for statesmanship, but Waldheim, despite his years
as an ambassador and a foreign minister and even a secretary-general,
had never learned statesmanship. He was too vain to understand
the uses of humility and regret and failure and a properly
stated mea culpa. The best his people got was the speech he
made about anti-Semitism, late in May, at the Schwarzenberg
Palace. (The irony of the mise en scéne may have been
lost on Waldheim; the Schwarzenbergs were an Austro-Czech
family who had challenged Hitier by registering as members
of the Czech minority instead of citiens of the German Reich.)
It may be that Waldheim was so used to the ceremonial euphemisms
of United Nations high life that he had come to believe that
life was protocol and truth was the last word spoken by the
highest-ranking person. When Czernin called on him a second
time, Waldheim denied everything his file from the archives
said. Czernin says that Waldheim would look at the photocopy
of bis Wehrstammbuch, his Army record, with his signature
on membership cards from the S. A. riding club and the National
Socialist Student Union, and even at his own Photograph, and
say, "No, not me, not true", as if there were nothing
there - no papers, no picture, no embarrassed reporter, no
young diplomats with their mouths open. It was a photograph
from the archives that interested Czernin most. It was a head
shot, the kind of picture that goes on passports and identity
cards, but it reminded Czernin of something, and then he realized
he had seen a face like that in a picture somebody had sent
to Profil that fall - a picture of a grup of young Austrians
waiting on the Heldenplatz on May 1, 1938, to welcome Hitler
to Vienna. Czernin was so bewildered by then - bewildered
by the two pictures and by the Wehrstammbuch he had seen and
by Waldheim's always saying, "No, not me", and smiling
so politely - that he went straight from the meeting to a
café in the Hotel Erzherzog Rainer and sat up until
one in the morning drinking and talking with Peter Marboe.
Who was Waldheim's chief of staff, and Gerold Christian, Waldheim's
press secretary, trying to make some sense of the conversations
he and Waldheim had had. "I told them, 'Wow! Waldheim
must have had terrific contacts to be able to stay in Vienna
and study law for two whole years in the middle of a world
war', and they went back to Waldheim, and then Waldheim said,
'Well, maybe I was only sick for two months, and maybe then
I went to the Balkans.' But the thing is, he would never tell
the whole story and this was very annoying, because it turned
out that he was one of the best-informed officers of the Balkans.
He knew everything." In the end, Profil and one Salzburg
paper, Salzburger Nachrichten, asked that Waldheim withdraw
from the campaign. An "alternative" paper called
Falter gave all the reasons why he should withdraw from it.
The rest of the press preferred to write about how the World
Jewish Congress was paying Greek partisans - a hundred and
fifty thousand dollars is the latest figure - to say that
Kurt Waldheim had beat them up.
+++
Eli Rosenbaum the general counsel for the World Jewish Congress,
flew to Vienna on February 4th -two weeks before Czernin visited
the State Archives and met with Waldheim. Rosenbaum says that
the congress had only just heard about Löhr and Waldhelm
- that one of his researchers had read the article on Löhr
in Profil, and showed it to Israel Singer, who took it to
Edgar Bronfman who said, "Go ahead." Not many people
believe that, but it is the congress's story, the way the
Socialists' story is that one of their staff happened to read
about Waldheim and Löhr in Profil, and showed the article
around, and that after that the Socialists got busy. The World
Jewish Congress blames the Socialists for their "deafening
silence" after the first round of voting. Singer claims,
with justice, that the Socialists were immensely cynical in
their campaign - which went from attacks on Waldheim to silence
about Waldheim to elder-statesman rectitude from Kreisky to
the resignation of Chancellor Sinowatz once Waldheim was elected
and the Socialists had nothing to lose, and a lot to gain,
by showing some appropriate indignation. On he other hand,
the Socialists blame the World Jewish Congress for a certain
potshot style that does not do well here. Some Socialists
agree with Wiesenthal that the World Jewish Congress is raising
the level of anti-Semitism in Austria. But the argument between
Wiesenthal and the World Jewish Congress has as much to do
with Jewish politics, which are at least as involuted as Austrian
politics, as it has to do with Kurt Waldheim. Simon Wiesenthal
does not really like the congress's moving, as it were, into
his territory (even the Wiesenthal Center in Los Angees has
been at odds with him over his reluctance to condemn Waldheim),
and the World Jewish Congress does not really like the attention
Wiesenthal gets as a famous Nazi hunter. Israel Singer says
that Jews do not cause anti-Semitism - anti-Semites do. He
is right, of course. When Michael Graff, the general secretarv
of the People's Party, actually accused the World Jewish Congress
of provoking "feelings that we all don 't want to have",
a jourialist here named Barbara Coudenhove-Kalergi replied
that it was not a matter of whether you wanted to have those
feelings - it was having them that counted. She said that
the most painful thing in Austria right now ls watching anti-Semites
warn other anti-Semites against anti-Semitism.
+++
Monsigniore Leopold Ungar, who runs the Catholic Charities
here, thinks that the Allies made a terrible miscalculation
after the Second World War. They believed that the Austrians
were going to recover, morally and historically, and that
it was the Germans who were going to have to start all over
again - the hunters and gatherers, so to speak, of modern
Europe. In fact, it is the Austrians who are without a history.
People who have seen the new Vienna shows (the Künstlerhaus
version was called "Traum und Wirklichkeit", which
means "Dream and Reality") often remark on the passion
with which the artists and intellectuals of prewar Vienna
abandoned history. Harold Bloom, the Yale critic, could have
been talking about Vienna instead of Wordsworth when he described
what an "anxiety of influence" was. That kind of
anxiety hangs over Vienna even now. lf there is no real Austrian
literature of the war - no "Tin Drum" of the Anschluss
- it may be because the important Austrian writers of the
past forty years, writers like Thomas Bernhard and Peter Handke,
went right back past the war to the questions about art and
language which the early modernists posed and never resolved.
Austria's evasions are the same evasions that Karl Kraus wrote
about in every issue of Die Fackel - they have a spezial language
, whether it is the language of anti-Semitism or the language
of the victim, and writers here believe that any true recovery
for their country has to startagain with language, as Austrians
use it. They are more interested in Wittgenstein than in their
military historians. Still, when Waldheim began to talk about
doing his duty as a soldier, Peter Handke offered his services
to Steyrer, twelve hundred intellectuals published a letter
of protest, and another group of writers and artists took
ads in the daily papers to say that, while they didn't really
like the Socialists, Kurt Steyrer would do less damage than
Kurt Waldheim as an Austrian President. The only "artist
for Waldheim" seems to have been a Hungarian sculptor
who spends his summer vacations in Gablitz, in he Vienna woods,
and thinks that Waldheim is the "greatest living European."
Last month, the sculptor sent huge bronze bust of Waldheim
to a People's Party rally in the Gablitz Festhalle. It was
a striking likeness of the new President. It could be the
first gift in a long career of getting gifts that Waldheim
will want to donate to a worthy cause instead of taking home
and keeping it for himself.
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- ... International
point of views on Austrian affairs and tendencies ...
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" ... in a city
where most of the press is terrible ..."
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"... In the end,
Profil and one Salzburg paper, Salzburger Nachrichten,
asked that Waldheim withdraw from the campaign.
An "alternative" paper called Falter gave
all the reasons
why he should withdraw from it. The rest of the press
..."
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