[ [26] The typical career of a German Socialist leader. It is not far afield to estimate that seven of every ten of the Socialist leaders and government officials in Germany have been or still are members of the editorial staffs of Socialist newspapers or magazines. Most of the others are lawyers; proletarians who earn their bread by the actual sweat of their brows are rare in the party leadership.
Haussmann and Noske reached Kiel late Monday afternoon. The parading mutineers met them at the station. Noske, speaking from the top of an automobile, addressed the crowd, appealing to their patriotism and to the German instinct for orderly procedure. Their main demands, he pointed out, had already been granted. The government, representing all parties of the empire, promised that all grievances should be heard and redressed. The speech appeared to have some effect. Isolated demonstrations took place until into the evening, but there were no serious clashes anywhere.
The situation seemed somewhat more hopeful. The leaders on both sides either could not or did not realize what powerful and pernicious influences were working against them. The Governor felt his hand strengthened by the presence of Haussmann, the Minister; the Workmen's and Soldiers' Council was both calmed and encouraged by the presence of Noske, the party leader. The members of the council and the men representing the Kiel government began a joint session in the evening. Four delegates of the Social-Democratic party of Kiel also attended the conference, although their party had already, at a meeting a few hours earlier, virtually decided to order a general sympathy strike.
The deliberations of the conference showed that the situation had suddenly assumed the aspect of a strike, a mere labor and party question. The soldier and sailor delegates left the debate largely to the party leaders. Both sides, government and strikers alike, showed themselves honestly desirous of finding a peaceful settlement. The difficulties proved, however, to be very great. At 1:00 A.M., on Tuesday, the conference took a recess. Noske telegraphed to Berlin: "Situation serious. Send me another man." But despite all difficulties both sides were hopeful.
Of the many thousands of mutineers, however, there were many who were not disposed to await an orderly adjustment of the situation. Already potential masters of the squadron, they set about transmuting potentiality into actuality. On one ship after another the red flag of sedition, the emblem of the negation of loyalty to native land, replaced the proud imperial standard. It is an amazing thing that in all Germany not a dozen of the thousands of officers whose forefathers had for two centuries enjoyed the privileges of an exclusive and loyal caste gave their lives for their King in an effort to oppose revolt and revolution. At Kiel, and later at Hamburg, Swinemünde, Berlin—in fact, everywhere—the mutineers and revolutionaries met no resistance from the very men of whom one might have expected that they would die, even in a forlorn cause, in obedience to the old principle of noblesse oblige. At Kiel there were but three of this heroic mold. These men, whose names deserve to be remembered and honored wherever bravery and loyalty are prized, were Commander Weniger, Captain Heinemann and Lieutenant Zenker of the battleship König, who were shot down as, revolver in hand, they defended the imperial standard and killed several of the men who were trying to replace it with the red rag of revolution. Captain Heine, commandant of the city of Kiel, was shot down in the hallway of his home Tuesday evening by sailors who had come to arrest him. These four men were the only officers deliberately shot in Kiel, except the two fatally wounded in Sunday night's fighting at the military prison.
Admiral Krafft, commander of the Kiel squadron, finally decided to leave port with his ships. But it was too late. Some of the ships had to be left behind, for the mutineers, coming alongside in small fishing-steamers and other craft, had compelled the loyal remnants of the crews to refuse to obey the order to accompany the squadron. Even on the ships least affected by the mutiny, hundreds of the crews refused to come aboard. Word of the revolt had moreover reached other coast cities, and when the ships reached Lübeck, Flensburg, Swinemünde and other ports, it proved impossible to keep the missionaries of mutiny ashore and on shipboard from communicating with each other. Thus the contagion was spread further.
Tuesday was a day of tense excitement at Kiel. There was some shooting, due—as was also the case later in Berlin—to false reports that officers had fired from houses on the mutineers. The streets were filled with automobiles carrying red flags, and red flags began to appear over various buildings. Noske, feverishly active, devoting all his iron energy to restoring order and finding a peaceful solution of the revolt, conferred continuously with representatives of the city government, with military and naval authorities and with the strikers. The movement still had outwardly only the aspect of a strike, serious indeed, but still a strike. He succeeded in having countermanded an order bringing troops to the city. Despite this, the suspicious mutineers compelled the Governor to go with them to the railway station in order to send the troops back if it should prove that the counterorder had not reached them in time. At the request of the mutineers—who treated the Governor with all courtesy—he remained at the station until the troop train arrived empty.
The situation on Tuesday was adversely affected by the flight of Prince Heinrich, brother of the Kaiser. He was not unpopular with the men of the navy and he was never even remotely in danger. Yet he fled from Kiel in an automobile and, fleeing, destroyed the remnant of authority which his government still enjoyed. The flight itself rendered the strikers nervous, and the fact that the death of a marine, who was shot while standing on the step of the Prince's automobile, was at first ascribed to him, enraged the mutineers and was a further big factor in rendering nugatory the efforts of Noske and all others who were honestly striving to find a way out of the situation. Autopsy showed that the marine had been shot in the back by one of the bullets fired after the fleeing automobile by the victim's own comrades. This disclosure, however, came a day later, and then it was too late to undo the mischief caused by the first report.
A "non-resistance" order, the first one of many that helped make the revolution possible, was also issued on Tuesday by the military authorities. Officers were commanded not to use force against the strikers. "Only mutual understanding of the demands of the moment can restore orderly conditions," said the decree.
Wednesday, the fourth day of the revolt at Kiel, was the critical and, as it proved, the decisive day. When night came the mutineers were crowned with victory, and the forces of orderly government had lost the day. And yet, strangely enough, neither side realized this. The strikers believed themselves isolated in the corner of an undisturbed empire. The more conservative among them began to consider their situation in a different light. There was an undercurrent of feeling that no help could be looked for from other quarters and that a reconciliation with the authorities should be sought. Noske shared this feeling. Speaking to the striker's delegates late on Wednesday evening, he advised them to compromise. Seek an agreement with the government, he said in effect. The government is ready and even eager to reach a fair compromise. We stand alone, isolated.