That night, back in the temple, Paul felt the familiar sense of artifice and boredom that had swamped him years earlier when he had started attending Masonic meetings. The place was full to bursting with more than a hundred people in attendance.
At an opportune moment, Keller, who was still Grand Master of the Lodge of the Rising Sun, stood up and introduced Paul to his brother Masons. Many of them already knew him, but at least ten members greeted him for the first time.
Apart from when Keller addressed him directly, Paul spent much of the meeting lost in thought… until near the end, when one of the older brothers-someone by the name of Furst-got up to introduce a subject that was not on that day’s agenda.
“Most Venerable Grand Master, a group of brothers and I have been discussing the current situation.”
“What are you referring to, Brother Furst?”
“To the worrying shadow Nazism is casting over Masonry.”
“Brother, you know the rules. No politics in the temple.”
“But the Grand Master will agree with me that the news from Berlin and Hamburg is worrying. Many lodges there have dissolved of their own free will. Here in Bavaria, none of the Prussian lodges are left.”
“So, are you proposing the dissolution of this lodge, Brother Furst?”
“Certainly not. But I believe the time may be right to take measures that others have taken in order to ensure their permanence.”
“And what are these measures?”
“The first would be to cut off our links with brotherhoods outside Germany.”
This statement was followed by a lot of murmuring. Masonry was traditionally an international movement, and the more links a lodge had, the more it was respected.
“Silence, please. When the brother has finished, everyone will be able to give their own thoughts on the matter.”
“The second would be to rename our society. Other lodges in Berlin have changed their name to Order of the Teutonic Knights.”
This set off another wave of grumbling. Changing the name of the order was simply not acceptable.
“And finally I think we should discharge from the lodge-honorably-those brothers who place our survival at risk.”
“And which brothers would those be?”
Furst cleared his throat before continuing, visibly uncomfortable.
“The brothers who are Jewish, of course.”
Paul leapt up from his seat. He tried to take the floor to speak, but the temple had become a pandemonium of shouts and curses. The commotion lasted for several minutes, with everyone trying to speak at once. Several times Keller struck his lectern with the mace, which he seldom had occasion to use.
“Order, order! We will speak one at a time, or I shall have to dissolve the meeting!”
Tempers cooled a little, and speakers took the floor in support of or to reject the proposal. Paul counted the number of people weighing in and was surprised to discover there was an even split between the two positions. He tried to think of something to contribute that would sound coherent. He urgently wished to convey how unfair he found the whole discussion.
Finally, Keller gestured to him with the mace. Paul stood up.
“Brothers, this is the first time I’ve spoken in this lodge. It may well be the last. I’ve been astonished by the discussion provoked by Brother Furst’s proposal, and what most astonishes me isn’t your opinions on the subject but the mere fact that we’ve had to discuss it at all.”
There were mutterings of approval.
“I’m not Jewish. I have Aryan blood running through my veins, or at least I think I do. The truth is, I’m not altogether sure of what I am, or who I am. I arrived in this noble institution following in the footsteps of my father, with no other objective than to find out about myself. Certain circumstances in my life have kept me far away from you for a long time, but when I came back, I never imagined things would be so different. Within these walls we are supposedly in pursuit of enlightenment. So, can you explain to me, brothers, why this institution would discriminate against people for anything other than their actions, just or unjust?”
There were more murmurs of assent. Paul saw Furst rise from his seat.
“Brother, you have been away a long time and you don’t know what’s happening in Germany!”
“You’re right. We are living through a dark time. But in such times we have to cling strongly to what we believe.”
“What’s at stake here is the survival of the lodge!”
“Yes, but at what cost?”
“If we have to-”
“Brother Furst, if you were crossing the desert and you saw the sun was getting stronger and your canteen was getting empty, would you piss in it to stop it from running out?”
The roof of the temple quaked with the outburst of laughter. Furst was losing the match, and he seethed with rage.
“And to think that these are the words of the outcast son of a deserter,” he exclaimed, furious.
Paul took the blow as best he could. He squeezed hard on the back of the chair in front of him until his knuckles turned white.
I must control myself, or he will have won.
“Most venerable Grand Master, are you going to allow Brother Furst to expose my statement to this cross fire?”
“Brother Reiner is right. Stick to the rules of debate.”
Furst nodded with a wide smile that put Paul on the alert.
“Delighted. In that case, I ask you to withdraw the floor from Brother Reiner.”
“What? On what grounds?” said Paul, trying not to shout.
“Do you deny that you only attended the lodge’s meetings for a few months before your disappearance?”
Paul became flustered.
“No, I don’t deny it, but-”
“So you haven’t reached the degree of Fellow Craft, and you do not have the right to contribute to meetings,” Furst interrupted.
“I’ve been an Apprentice for more than eleven years. The degree of Fellow Craft is gained automatically after three years.”
“Yes, but only if you attend the Works regularly. Otherwise you have to be approved by a majority of the brothers. So you have no right to speak in this debate,” said Furst, unable to hide his satisfaction.
Paul looked around for support. Every face looked back at him in silence. Even Keller, who had seemed to want to help him moments earlier, was quiet.
“Very well. If that’s the prevailing spirit, I renounce my membership in the lodge.”
Paul stood and left the bench, walking toward the lectern occupied by Keller. He removed his apron and gloves and threw them at the Grand Master’s feet.
“I’m not proud of these symbols anymore.”
“And nor am I!”
One of the others present, a man by the name of Joachim Hirsch, stood up. Hirsch was Jewish, Paul recalled. He, too, threw the symbols down at the foot of the lectern.
“I’m not going to wait for a vote on whether or not I should be expelled from a lodge I’ve belonged to for twenty years. I’d prefer to leave,” he said, standing at Paul’s side.
Hearing this, many others stood up. Most of them were Jewish, though there were a few non-Jews, Paul noticed with satisfaction, who were clearly just as indignant as he was. Within a minute, more than thirty aprons had piled up on the checkered marble. The scene was chaotic.
“That’s enough!” shouted Keller, beating the mace in a vain attempt to make himself heard. “If my position allowed it, I’d throw this apron down too. Let us respect those who have taken this decision.”
The group of dissidents began to leave the temple. Paul was one of the last to go, and he left with his head held high, though it grieved him. Being a member of the lodge had never been particularly to his taste, but it hurt him to see how such a group of intelligent, cultured people could be split apart by fear and intolerance.
He walked in silence toward the entrance hall. Some of the dissidents had gathered in a huddle, though most had collected their hats and were making their way out into the street in groups of two or three so as not to attract attention. Paul was preparing to do the same when he felt someone touch his back.
“Please allow me to shake your hand.” It was Hirsch, the man who had thrown his apron in after Paul. “Thank you so much for setting an example. If you hadn’t done what you did, I wouldn’t have dared do it myself.”
“No need to thank me. I just couldn’t bear to see the injustice of it all.”
“If only more people were like you, Reiner, Germany wouldn’t be in the mess she’s in today. Let’s just hope it’s only a passing ill wind.”
“People are scared,” said Paul with a shrug.
“I’m not surprised. Three or four weeks ago, the Gestapo got the power to act extra-judicially.”
“What do you mean?”
“They can detain anyone they like, even for something as simple as ‘walking suspiciously.’”
“But that’s ridiculous!” said Paul, astonished.
“There’s more,” said another of the men who was about to leave. “After a few days the family receives a notification.”
“Or they’re called in to identify the body,” added a third gloomily. “It’s already happened to an acquaintance of mine, and the list is growing. Krickstein, Cohen, Tannenbaum…”
When he heard that last name Paul’s heart leapt.
“Wait, did you say Tannenbaum? Which Tannenbaum?”
“Josef Tannenbaum, the industrialist. Do you know him?”
“Sort of. You could say I’m… a friend of the family.”
“Then I’m sorry to have to tell you that Josef Tannenbaum is dead. The funeral is being held tomorrow morning.”