There were certain influential Germans in Constantinople who did not accept Wangenheim’s point of view. I have already referred to Paul Weitz, for thirty years the correspondent of the Frankfürter Zeitung, who probably knew more about affairs in the Near East than any other German. Although Wangenheim constantly looked to Weitz for information, he did not always take his advice. Weitz did not accept the orthodox imperial attitude towards Armenia, for he believed that Germany’s refusal effectively to intervene was doing his Fatherland everlasting injury. Weitz was constantly presenting this view to Wangenheim, but he made little progress. Weitz told me about this himself, in January, 1916, a few weeks before I left Turkey. I quote his own words on this subject:
“I remember that you told me at the beginning,” said Weitz, “what a mistake Germany was making in the Armenian matters. I agreed with you perfectly, but when I urged this view upon Wangenheim he twice threw me out of the room!”
Another German who was opposed to the atrocities was Neurath, the Conseiller of the German Embassy. His indignation reached such a point that his language to Talaat and Enver became almost undiplomatic. He told me, however, that he had failed to influence them.
“They are immovable and are determined to pursue their present course,” Neurath said.
Of course, no Germans could make much impression on the Turkish Government as long as the German Ambassador refused to interfere, and, as time went on, it became more and more evident that Wangenheim had no desire to stop the deportations. He apparently wished, however, to re-establish friendly relations with me, and soon sent third parties to ask why I never came to see him. It is doubtful whether we would have met again had not a great personal affliction befallen him. In June Lieut.-Col. Leipzig, the German Military Attaché, died under the most tragic and mysterious circumstances in the railroad station at Lule Bourgas. He was killed by a revolver-shot. One story said that the weapon had been accidentally discharged, another that the Colonel had committed suicide; still another that the Turks had assassinated him, mistaking him for Liman von Sanders. Leipzig was one of Wangenheim’s intimate friends; as young men they had been officers in the same regiment, and at Constantinople they were almost inseparable. I immediately called on the Ambassador to express my condolences. I found him very dejected and careworn. He told me that he had heart trouble, that he was almost exhausted, and that he had applied for a few weeks’ leave of absence. I knew that it was not only his comrade’s death that was preying upon Wangenheim’s mind. German missionaries were flooding Germany with reports about the Armenians and calling upon the German Government to stop them. Yet, overburdened and nervous as Wangenheim was this day, he gave many signs that he was still the same unyielding German militarist. A few days afterward, when he returned my visit, he asked:
“Where’s Kitchener’s Army?
“We are willing to surrender Belgium now,” he went on. “Germany intends to build an enormous fleet of submarines with great cruising radius. In the next war we shall therefore be able completely to blockade England, so we do not need Belgium for its submarine bases. We shall give her back to the Belgians, taking the Congo in exchange.”
I then made another plea on behalf of the persecuted Christians. Again we discussed this subject at length.
“The Armenians,” said Wangenheim, “have shown themselves in this war to be enemies of the Turks. It is quite apparent that the two peoples can never live together in the same country. The Americans should move some of them to the United States, and we Germans will send some to Poland, and in their place send Jewish Poles to the Armenian provinces—that is, if they will promise to drop their Zionist schemes.”
Again, although I spoke with unusual earnestness, the former Ambassador refused to help the Armenians.